13. Brian
CHAPTER 13
One thing you have to know about Tuft Swallow: this town goes hard for cornhole.
I’m still chanting along with fans and neighbors lining every row of bleachers, and it’s almost like I’m back in high school at the Homecoming football game. But even back then, I never experienced the thrill of an entire community of fans single-mindedly cheering on their star player for a bottom-of-the-ninth tiebreaking match-up.
It’s electric. Beside me, the dad of a family of five reaches into the cooler at his feet and hands out bottled waters to his children. Then he nudges me and holds up a beer.
“One for the team?” he shouts, and I can only barely hear him over the roar of the crowd.
“Yeah, thanks,” I shout back, and we cheer along with his wife as Kodi and Zeke square off at the 50-yard line.
Oh fuck.
Despite all my outward enthusiasm for Kodi, when I see Zeke step onto the field beside the turquoise and orange board with that cocky smirk on his face that I know all too well, my guts twist. I take in his stance, his body, the way the sunlight flashes a halo of highlights against his soft, black hair, and a singular thought fills my brain.
You’re rooting for the wrong team.
The euphoric high that’s been building since Kodi’s and my kiss comes crashing down all at once. Suddenly, I don’t even recognize myself. Who is this man, screaming his head off in a high school football stadium and drinking beer next to a couple of strangers with three small children? What am I turning into?
Is this my life now? Rooting for some former high school softball player I barely even know to out-perform the man I love at a community cornhole game? For what purpose? To keep some gossip rag from airing out my dirty laundry? To get revenge? To save face?
It’s like someone came up behind me and poured a cooler full of ice water down my back. I’m frozen by how bizarre it all feels, like I’ve stepped into some kind of alternate 1950s universe where neighbors actually care about each other and nothing matters more than beating the town rivals.
Kodi’s a nice girl and all, but do I really want her to win against my Zeke? Do I want to see him run off to his teammates for comfort, watch him spiral further and further away from me and what our relationship could be?
I hold my breath as I stare at the gorgeous man who, only a few short days ago, was important enough to warrant me leaving my life in the city to take the next step together. The same man who then stomped on my heart along with whatever plans I had for us. He’s tossing his bright-red beanbag up in the air and catching it repeatedly, an easy grin teasing that sexy dimple in the middle of his clean-shaven cheek, and my chest aches to see it.
I still want him. I want him so badly.
And I can’t have him.
I have to get out of here. I don’t care that I should stay to keep up this ridiculous ruse that Kodi started, to show Zeke that I can move on, just like him. To playact at that aloof carelessness that he seems to value so highly. To convince this town that I’m not still pining after their biggest rival.
I’m not a liar. I’ve never been one to deceive or keep secrets. I wear my heart on my sleeve; I always have.
That’s why it hurts so much that my affection meant so little to him. When it had meant so, so much to me. It still does.
The noise, the crowd, the tension in the air… it’s suffocating. I can’t stay here a second longer.
I rise from my seat, beer can still clutched in my hand, and push my way through the cheering crowd down to the space between the bleachers and the sidelines. But as I reach a break in the bodies milling around me, I hear someone calling my name.
“Brian! Brian!”
It’s Lily, Kodi’s curvy redhead friend, along with another woman with pink hair and tattoos–her teammate in the second round. I shake my head, avoiding eye contact. My heart is broken, my introverted soul exhausted, and my capacity for people today completely spent. I need to get off this roller coaster, and fast.
A hand clasps around my upper arm, and I wince when I turn around to see that she’s caught up with me anyway. “Where are you going?”
“I need to leave,” I shout back to her, too drained to come up with an excuse. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Look here, bucko.” Her fingers dig into the skin under my t-shirt, pinching a little. I turn back around to face her, surprised by the venom in her voice. Pink Hair’s eyes widen with mine when she hears Lily’s brazen tone. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Kodi, or you and number 17, but whatever it is that’s got your knickers in a twist needs to take a backseat. Your girl needs you.”
“My girl?” I yank my arm out of her grasp, turning to face her completely as I lean over the fence and into her face. I have to shout to hear myself over the raucous crowd. “Are you kidding me? Kodi doesn’t need me. She’s got this whole town cheering her name. She’s in her element right now. And I’m–” my chest squeezes as I gesture to the field and take in Zeke bagging a cornhole and the crowd erupting into a roaring swell of cheers and boos, “I’m very much not, okay?”
“Dr. Gosling, wait,” Pink Hair calls out, and the imploring look in her eyes makes me hesitate. “You don’t understand. This is Kodi’s first big match like this since her injury. I know that she seems, like, unstoppable all the time, but this is a big day for her, okay? Please. Don’t leave her. Not now.”
“What makes you think I’m so important to her?” I throw my hands up in the air, getting really annoyed at these people’s insistence that I stay and watch my ex rub his physical prowess in my face for a moment longer. Kodi and I hardly even know each other. These women are Kodi’s best friends; do they actually believe for a second that there’s something going on between us? When we only met three days ago?
“She gave you her first real kiss, for starters.”
What now?
All the blood rushes from my head as I stare at the redhead in disbelief.
She can’t be serious. No way.
Did I just steal some poor woman’s first kiss? And a patient’s, at that??
She’s not some teenager. This is a woman in her twenties. I can’t possibly…
Shit, shit, shit. I’ve really stepped in it this time. I’m pretty sure I’ve broken about a thousand and a half rules, spoken and unspoken, with this one.
Lily crosses her arms. “Yeah, doc. So you better stick around to make sure you either give my girl a victory smooch or a shoulder to cry on, because I’m sure as heck not gonna be the one to break the news that her boyfriend ran away during her moment of glory.”
Fuck.
I look to the field, just in time to see Kodi toss a perfect throw. Her bag arcs in a glorious sweep across the 27-foot regulation court and knocks two hanging chads clinging to the edge of the plywood circle right into the goal.
The refs blow their whistles, and the hometown side of the stadium erupts in a cacophony that makes my eardrums ring. Barely audible against the roar, the ref’s voice crackles over the loudspeakers:
“An amazing three cornholes, nine points to number 12: Kodi Gander! Mighty Swallows win the round and the match!”
“Come on!” Lily yells at me, and tugs my arm until I’m practically toppling over the fence. Pink Hair lends me a hand and they forcibly pull me over the barrier. I lose track of Zeke in the tumble of limbs and faces.
Somehow I land on my feet, and they tug me to the team huddle around Kodi, where she’s got her hands lifted in a victory stance as a couple of teammates spray her with beer. She squints against the spray, a wide, open-mouthed smile splitting her face as she squeals for the players to stop drowning her. When she’s safe to open her eyes, the sparkling brown orbs find me in the huddle, and the euphoria on her face has my lungs pushing all the breath from my body.
Her clothes are soaked, ponytail dripping with amber liquid, and her cheeks are dotted with splotches of red between her freckles.
She’s radiant.
My brain short-circuits, and my legs take over. The next moment I’m at her side, lifting her into the air and spinning her around like a real boyfriend would. She arches her back and swings her arms into the air as we pirouette together, before I come to a stop and she slowly slides down my chest, wet jersey rippling up between us and revealing her smooth, white skin beneath my fingers. Her lips are only a breath away from mine.
In a fraction of a second that lasts an eternity, her brows lift in a question as our gazes lock.
I’m not sure if it’s the adrenaline or the exhaustion, or even the energy of the crowd, but my awareness tunnels in around us until all I can take in is Kodi and me.
Her sparkling gold-flecked eyes, flushed cheeks. The damp wisps of dirty blonde hair framing her heart-shaped face. My fingers splay across the exposed skin at her waist, and her lips open on a breath. I take them in mine, teasing at that space between us with my tongue until she lets me in. And I give her the victory kiss that she deserves.
That every girlfriend–fake or not–deserves from her boyfriend for her first kiss.
Or her second, at least.
We stay locked in each other’s arms for a second, two, three—until my heart restarts and I release her gently back to the ground. She blinks rapidly as we separate, and Lily, Pink Hair, and the rest of the team swarm her in celebration.
I back away, allowing the team a chance to maul their victorious captain. Then I look over to the visitor’s side of the field.
Zeke is standing stock-still, beanbag still in his hand, taking me in with an unreadable expression on his face. When I catch him staring, his lip curls in his signature cocky grin, but it doesn’t reach his pitch-black eyes.
He tosses the bag high above his head, and before it can reach its full descent, snatches it from the air. Then he waggles his eyebrows at me, gives me a wink, and turns around to join back up with his team of losers.
The butterflies that always flutter in my stomach when that man winks at me go at it in full force, and I swallow around the sudden lump that forms in my throat.
And then I return to the kettle of Mighty Swallows to fulfill my role as the captain’s fake boyfriend, exhausted.