13. Mack
CHAPTER 13
MACK
D espite my crashing mood, I hit Mustang’s with Carter and Baker. More out of a sense of duty than an actual desire to celebrate our win, but I’m here.
We press through the thick crowd, making a beeline to the bar. People stop Coach Carter every two seconds, congratulating him on the hard-won victory. A few of the men offer up coaching tips, which is something else considering I know a few of them never played one second of football in their damn lives. Carter takes it all in stride, and I’m reminded again why I have no desire to be the head coach.
After what seems like an eternity, we finally make it to the bar. There are two open seats and I magnanimously offer them to Baker and Carter. I’m too amped up after the game to sit down, anyway. Although I have a sneaking suspicion a good portion of the buzzy energy churning through me has more to do with seeing Gracelyn and less to do with football. But I’d rather not dwell on that right now.
The bartender takes our drink order and Carter and Baker settle in, with me hovering behind them.
“Good game, Carter,” Baker says, cracking his knuckles. “I was nervous there for a second, but we somehow pulled it out.”
Carter rolls his shoulders, adjusts his Thunder Creek ball cap. “It was a close one. But I knew we could do it. Good zone coverage strategy at the end there, Mack.”
“Thanks.” I nod, accepting the beer bottle from the bartender and take a long slug. “That kid from Sandalwood’s real good. I see why he’s already getting picked up.”
“We’ll be playing that team again in the playoffs, I’m betting,” Baker says. “And now they’ll know our plays. We’re going to have to keep getting better if we want to win state.”
Carter shrugs. “We will, boys. Keep the faith.” He lifts his drink and scoots back in his seat, giving me a clear view down the length of the bar.
And there she is, laughing and talking with the same guys from the football stadium. Gracelyn, the neon lights from the bar lighting her up and making her glow even brighter. The beer swirls in my stomach as she smiles at the man next to her, throwing her head back and laughing. The familiar, high-pitched tinkle floats across the room, hitting me hard in the chest.
I want to be that guy.
Tearing my gaze away, I pick at the edge of the label on the glass bottle. Anything to keep my focus off Gracelyn and the dude she’s talking to.
“Mack—do you have plans this weekend?” Baker rams my elbow, knocking my arm so hard a few droplets of beer slosh onto the wooden bar.
“Working in the yard. Tons of leaves to rake.” I swipe at the spill with my knuckles, my eyes wandering back over to Gracelyn. Now she’s looping one of her long curls around her finger and fluttering her lashes at the dude. He moves in closer, boxing out the other guys.
I don’t like the way he’s staring at her tits. Or his aggressive posture, chest all puffed out. Like he’s some modern-day caveman ready to haul her out of the bar over his beefy shoulder.
In fact, I don’t like anything about the guy. Jealousy pings through me like a silver pinball trapped beneath the glass of an arcade game, bouncing off my taut nerves. I take another chug of my drink, the cool liquid doing nothing to ease the scratchy tightness in my throat.
“I’m gonna use the john. Be right back.”
Setting my bottle on the bar, I shove a hand in my pocket and move through the crowd toward Gracelyn, who’s conveniently located near the restroom. I slow down as I get closer to her group, unsure if I should say anything to her.
What are you going to say?
Ducking my head and avoiding eye contact, I step into the bathroom. Surprisingly, there’s no line and I do my business, debating what to do as I stand over the urinal. Part of me wants to sidle up to her and see what happens. An even larger part of me wants to tell the fuck boy to get lost.
Zipping up, I wash my hands and shove out of the restroom. Gracelyn’s still standing in the same spot and now the guy’s inched in tighter, his fingers dangerously close to my girl.
My girl.
Except she’s not my girl.
Scrubbing a hand over my tight jaw, I stalk back to our spot at the bar. Last thing I want is to make a scene and embarrass myself. In a town as small as Thunder Creek, everyone will hear about it by tomorrow morning. The story may even hit the local paper, and I’m pretty keen on keeping my coaching position. A bar fight would definitely put that in jeopardy.
Baker and Carter have their heads together, fully engrossed in putting together a Special Teams offense for the next game. They don’t loop me into the convo—I’m uncertain they know I’m back from the bathroom.
Leaving me more time to fixate on Gracelyn and the frat bro at the other end of the bar. Now he’s leaning down, whispering something in her ear. I bet he’s sniffing her floral perfume and wondering what she’d smell like rubbing up on him. Anger surges through me as his meaty paw strokes her arm.
Hell, naw.
I can’t stand here and watch this. But I can’t bring myself to look away, either. It’s like witnessing a slow-motion car crash, knowing something grisly’s about to happen and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop it.
Frat bro reaches out and tucks her hair behind her ear and that’s all I can take. Black spots flicker at the corner of my vision and I’m hot all over. Pulling my phone out, I tap out a text.
Mack: If that dude touches you one more time, he’s going to have a few broken knuckles
I smash the send button and glare over at the corner, waiting for Gracelyn to read the message. A few seconds later, she picks up her cell and glances at the screen. Then her head pops up, her gaze wandering over the crowd until her crystal blue eyes land on me.
She holds an index finger up to frat bro as her hands fly over her cell.
Firecracker: Seriously? You don’t have a claim on me, Mack
Accurate. I have no claim on her at all. And that’s burning me up, from the inside out.
Mack: I know. But I can tell from here he’s not right for you
She flips her hair over her shoulder and shakes her head at her phone.
Firecracker: You don’t know anything about this guy. Maybe he’s Mr. Right
Now it’s my turn to shake my head, my right eye twitching. Surely, she’s not falling for his amateur moves.
Mack: He definitely isn’t
Firecracker: How do you know?
I glance up, locking eyes with her for a long second. Then I shoot her another text.
Mack: I told you I can tell
Firecracker: Tell what, exactly, from way over there?
She pops a hand on her hip and glares down the bar at me. Pressing my lips together, I don’t hesitate with my response.
Mack: Tell that he’s not me
Her cheeks turn pink as she reads the message, so I go for broke.
Mack: You should be sitting on my face right now while I play with your beautiful tits and make you scream
Mack: Not getting loved up by some overgrown frat bro
Lips forming a perfect ‘O,’ her neck and face brighten.
Mack: Ditch the bro and come home with me
I hold my breath, waiting for her answer as she stares down at her cell. Although the bar’s noisy, all I hear is the blood whooshing loudly in my ears, heart hammering. If she didn’t know how I felt about her before, she sure as hell does now.
Gracelyn turns to the frat bro, patting his forearm and smiling. Time flips to slow-motion as she sips her drink and leaves me hanging.
My cell buzzes again.
Firecracker: As lovely as that offer is, I can’t keep doing the casual thing
I frown at the screen, my insides swirling as I quickly debate showing my hand here. But fuck, who am I kidding? All I think about is Gracelyn—what she’s doing, how she’s feeling. If she’s having a good day or not. I haven’t felt this way about anyone in years.
Take the chance, Mack. Tell her how you feel.
Mack: Who said anything about casual?
She rattles the ice in her glass, then lifts her wide baby blues to mine.
Questioning.
I tip my head toward the door with a slight nod.
Answering.
Smiling up at frat bro, she gives him a finger wave and my chest fills with relief, my entire body lightening.
“I’m gonna get going. See you boys later.” I lean over and toss a twenty onto the bar to cover my drink.
“What? You’re leaving already? It’s barely eleven pm,” Baker says, tapping his watch.
I shrug. “Yeah, it’s too crowded tonight. I’ll see y’all later.”
Carter doesn’t protest, waving me off while Baker grumbles something about me being a boring old man.
But right now I could give two shits what Baker thinks. I have a much better offer on the table than hanging with my two buddies, talking football and drinking beer.
I’m about to have my face buried in Gracelyn’s sweet pussy, lapping up her juices and making her scream my name.