35. Tru
CHAPTER 35
TRU
“ I t’s for the best, you know,” Sandra said over a martini the next night. “That boy’s nothing but trouble, just like his father. Better you settled down, then have your fun.”
Evil witch.
“Anyway, it’s not like you could have kept him. His father would have never allowed it. He has big dreams for him, and none of them have to do with staining the perfect family name with a glorified orphan he had to take in. Commit too many sins, and you have a lot to cover up.”
I shook away the memory.
I thought she’d been talking about me.
She’d been talking about Vaughan the whole time.
I turned in Van’s arms. We were both still naked. I hadn’t closed the door, and we’d had sex three times in the past eight hours.
He moaned my name in his sleep and constantly reached for me like I was going to disappear. I trailed my finger down his jaw. “You awake?”
“No,” he grumbled. “I’m so tired.”
“You put in a lot of work all day yesterday. Lots of hard time.”
“It hurts to laugh.”
“I didn’t mean to kick you. It was the angle.”
He cursed. “I probably have a broken rib, and when I tell Coach I’m no longer qualified for the draft, he’ll ask me what took me out, and I’ll point at you and be like the short one, she has a temper on her, wildcat in bed, worth it.”
“You’re delirious.”
“Drunk off sex.” He sat up. “When’s class?”
I stretched my arms overhead. “Ten. I have time.”
“I’m at eleven. We should schedule a tutoring session on that level of the library you like so much later today.”
“We are not having sex up there.”
“But think about the memories?”
We both laughed when footsteps sounded. Brady walked by the room. I exhaled a sigh of relief when he backtracked and pointed at both of us in bed, then rubbed his eyes, then pointed again. “So the date went well?”
“We went to an arcade,” I blurted. “After burgers.”
Brady smirked. “And then you took the games home to the bed. Nice, I like your style.” He leaned against the doorframe. “So are you guys still fighting, and you just got so intoxicated you lack the will to move, or are you back together?”
“Together,” Van blurted, beating me to it.
I turned and threw my arms around him.
“Well, shit me a brick.” Brady sighed. “I’m not getting any sleep for the next few weeks, I just know it… Do me a favor and try to put music on or something so I don’t hear you boning. Oh and remember the hot tub rule still stands, you jackass!” He pointed at Van. “I mean it.”
Van held up his hands. “We won’t bone in the hot tub.”
“Bone.” Brady laughed. “We should use that word more often.” He giggled. “Sorry, I think I’m still drunk.”
He walked into the doorframe twice before stumbling backward and making his way toward his room.
“Together, huh?” I elbowed Van. “Officially?”
He lifted me onto his lap and smacked my ass. “Yes, and you’re officially back in my bathroom, alright? It ups my chances of seeing you naked more.”
I shrugged and slowly climbed off his lap. “Or you could just shower with me?”
“Yes.” He jumped out of bed, grabbed my hand, looked up and down the hall, and ran with me to the bathroom.
I laughed the entire way.
Until moans of pleasure took place of the laugh.
And then silence as he wiped my body down.
Together again.
Vaughan: Three weeks later
“I’m losing my shit.” I got up from the couch, then sat back down, then got back up, then sat. Tru wasn’t any help. She was chewing her fingernails like her only goal in life was to have nubs for hands, and Brady puked twice—not from alcohol. Then again, he was also a potential draft pick. We weren’t going to be at the top, and we may never even make it outside of a practice squad, but who knew?
Dad hadn’t even texted a good luck.
Mom did, but that was it.
It had been Tru’s idea to have a party at the house. At the time, I thought it would be great, but failing in front of everyone or potentially failing did not lessen my anxiety.
“You need to relax,” Tru reasoned.
“I can’t relax when my entire future is riding on me being a draft pick.”
“You’re going to get drafted.”
I grinned. “You know something I don’t, Cinderella?”
“Just that you’re amazing, and I’m so beyond lucky to have you.”
“Are you messing with me?”
She smirked. “I’d never.”
“Will you two stop flirting while our lives hang on the line?” Brady expressed.
The announcer suddenly walked on stage to start the fifth round. There were seven altogether, and I knew that if I did get called, it would be closer to the end. I was gripping my cell phone like my life depended on it. All of the nation's top players were in that room with full knowledge they would most likely be picked. They just didn’t know by what team. The league invited all two hundred and fifty of us eligible for the draft, but I decided to stay home with friends and family because I knew I was close to the bottom of the bucket.
I squeezed Tru’s hand so hard when he cleared his throat. “To start the fifth round, the University of Harvard quarterback Vaughan Aires!”
Frozen, I just sat on the couch and stared at the screen. My phone suddenly buzzed in my hand. It was all a blur—the coach calling me personally, welcoming me to the team. I had to sign immediately and head over to Bellevue in the morning to meet the coaching staff. There were more details, but I was too stunned to do anything.
His call was followed by at least ten more—agents wanting to sign me right away. I’d already had my eye out for Matt Kingston. He was a notorious sports agent out of the Seattle area. Thankfully, he finally did call, and I told him I wanted to sign with him immediately. His response was wow, that was easy.
It was two hours of complete chaos, but Tru never left my side. Brady got called at the end of the seventh round to San Francisco, and the guy looked so relieved he was going to pass out.
After our epic news, it was time to celebrate. Everyone was ready for one hell of a good time.
“Get me a drink?” Tru questioned.
“How about a dance?” I asked instead.
Her smile grew. “I’d love to dance with you.”
I didn’t waver, standing and grabbing her hand, leading her to the dance floor that happened to be our living room.
Once we were done having a moment, I stated, “Let’s get you that drink now.”
“Oh, are you trying to get lucky?”
I put my hand on my chest. “I’m offended. Can’t a guy just get his girl a drink?”
“How about a margarita with Don Julio tequila and salt around the rim?”
I laughed. “I aim to please.”
She giggled.”
“No really, it’s on my résumé.”
“Is that next to your low IQ?”
“As a matter of fact, it is, but the size and girth of my cock on the sentence below makes up for it.”
“I see.”
I smirked. “You will soon.”
I wasn’t sure how much time went by, but I swear the night flew at rapid speed, and before I knew it, I was opening my bedroom door for Tru.
“Oh, what a gentleman.”
“I do what I can.”
She stepped back. “Whoa.” Grabbing the wall for support, she grabbed her stomach, suddenly feeling queasy. “Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick.” Hauling ass into my bathroom, she was on her knees in front of the toilet hurling into the bowl before I could help her.
In seconds, I was holding back her hair while she threw up for a solid minute.
“You all right?”
“I think I threw up my liver.”
Slowly moving her head and body onto my chest, I gently laid her on my bed.
“I think I’m dying. You can go back out to the party.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you.”
“So I’m rocking your world right now? You’re just a regular Casanova.”
“But you love me anyway.”
“I don’t know why.”
“Because I’m awesome.”
“Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick again.”
And this was how we spent the night I got drafted.
Staying with her the entire night.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
What I didn’t expect was a text from my father late into the evening.
Dad
Congratulations, son.