21. Avery
TWENTY-ONE
AVERY
“Thanks for helping me,” I whisper to Maven and June as we walk into the Titans’ administrative offices at FedEx Field. “I’ve been finding rubber ducks around my office all week and I know it was that redheaded jerkwad. This is payback.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Shawn for being my godfather and giving me access to this area. He doesn’t know what we’re using it for, so let’s pretend it’s for a good cause,” Maven says.
“It is for a good cause,” I say. “Men should be put in their place every once in a while. Inconveniencing them is one way to do it, since they’re a constant inconvenience to me.”
“I can’t wait for you to meet Emmy,” Maven says. “You two are going to be best friends.”
I look around the corner and see the coast is clear. I don’t know why I thought I’d find anyone; with only an hour to go before kickoff, everyone is on the field for warmups. The place where I should be, but I’m sneaking around in the name of revenge.
Reid fucking Duncan is going down.
Maven leads us down the hall to Reid’s office, holding June’s hand and swinging their arms back and forth. “How did you get all this cellophane into the stadium? Bags aren’t allowed.”
“I addressed it to myself and sent it to the stadium last weekend. I put on a Titans polo I bought at the gift shop to make it look like I worked here and picked the box up from guest services twenty minutes ago, passing it off as athletic tape,” I say.
“You are ruthless . I should probably talk to Shawn about stricter security measures, but I’m freaking impressed,” she says.
“Are we going to wrap everything in Uncle Reid’s office?” June asks.
“Everything we can touch,” I tell her, wiggling my eyebrows. “I want it to take him hours to clean it up.”
“He’s going to be so mad. He hates when his things aren’t organized. One time, Uncle Mav put his plants in a different order, and he spent two hours putting them back in place.” June grins over her shoulder and looks me up and down. “I like you, Avery.”
“I like you too, kid. Thanks for being an accomplice.”
Maven opens a door and motions us inside. She locks it behind us, and I survey Reid’s office.
“Where should we start?” Maven asks. “I’m a first-time cellophaner.”
“The desk. It’s going to take the longest.” I put the heavy cardboard box on the floor and open it with a pair of scissors, handing them each a roll. “We’ll go in opposite directions so there are multiple layers. Makes it harder to cut through.”
“Have you done this a lot?” June asks. “You’re practically an expert.”
“I’ve been known to TP a house or two in my youth. This isn’t much different,” I say, and I walk to Reid’s desk.
There’s a photo of him, Dallas, and Maverick in the corner. All three of them are in tuxedos, devilish smiles on their mouths, and their arms slung around each other. The frame to the left is a group shot with a younger June, and everyone is in Halloween costumes.
“That’s when we dressed up like Frozen characters,” June tells me. “Uncle Reid was the snowman.”
“He and Maverick have been in your life a while, haven’t they?” I ask.
“Since I was born. I didn’t have a mom when I was younger, and when people teased me, I didn’t really care. I had three dads, and three is much better than one. Uncle Reid helped me learn my ballet dances.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. We practiced in the living room. He’s not very good, but he did his best. He even wore a tutu. Uncle Mav took me shopping while Daddy was playing football. We always had fun. Then Mom got here, and everything is even better.”
My breath catches as I stare at the photograph. I imagine Reid holding June as a baby, rocking her to sleep and singing her a lullaby. Letting her braid his hair and paint his nails. Being her bonus dad so she never felt alone, and showing up when she needed him the most.
Fuck him for being a nice fucking guy .
“Three is better than one,” I agree. “And four is better than three. You got lucky with the best mom in the world, June. She’s letting you help me make a mess out of Reid’s office, and that’s cool as heck.”
The three of us work in tandem. We climb over each other, going around and around the metal legs and laminate tabletop until his desk is a mess of plastic.
The chair and computer are next, and it takes two more rolls and Maven wrapping his stapler for us to finish the job.
“Wow.” June presses her finger into the wrappings and giggles. “That’s going to be hard to undo.”
“This is brilliant, Ave,” Maven says. “I wish we could watch the game here. Look at this view.”
“I wish I could see his reaction.” I grab a sticky note from a stack on his bookshelf and draw a heart followed by my initials. I tack it right on his covered computer and step back to admire our hard work. “There. Now it’s perfect.”
“Guess we need to get going,” Maven says. “It’s almost game time.”
“Can we tell Uncle Reid we need something from his office during halftime so he has to come in here?” June suggests. “Then he can see the damage we did.”
“I like the way you think.” I ruffle her hair. “Will you film it for me?”
“Duh.” June grins proudly and knocks her knuckles against mine.
“I have to run. Duty calls. Text me later?” I ask, and Maven hugs me tight.
“I will. Have fun, Ave. Are you wearing your sunscreen?”
I hug her back. “Yes, Mom. Enjoy your air-conditioned luxury box and pray for me. I’m going to sweat my butt off down there.”
I make it to the sidelines after the coin toss. I high-five the Thunderhawks players, going through the special handshakes I have with a few of them, and filming their huddle.
“You seem distracted, Avey baby,” Justin Jones, star running back and longtime veteran, says. He rests his elbow on my head and looks down at me. “You good?”
“I’m great.” I beam at him. “How many yards do you think you’re going to have this afternoon?”
“I hope over a hundred. I played like shit last week and we lost, so I need to make up for it. Just wish the Titans weren’t so damn good.”
“You and me both,” I grumble.
It’s our first time playing them, and the possibility of getting blown out frays my nerves.
Our defense takes the field, and I let myself lapse into five seconds of looking for Reid. I do my best to be casual about my search, a quick glance to the Titans’ sideline instead of a full-on scan of the stadium, but I can’t find him.
He must be hiding somewhere.
I’m going to give him shit for that later.
By halftime, I still haven’t seen him, and I don’t know if I should be worried.
I don’t know if I’m allowed to be worried.
We might have different takes on how to do our jobs, but it generally involves being around during gameplay, and he’s not here.
When the Titans run back onto the field to start the second half, I make a bold choice and head for Dallas at the fifty-yard line.
“Hey, Avery,” he says as I approach him.“What’s up?”
“Have you seen Reid?” I ask.
He glances around. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him since warm-ups. He said he needed to answer a call, but he never came back.”
“Okay. Thanks. Forget I asked.”
“He might be in the sensory room. He goes up there sometimes,” Dallas says.
“Do you think—” I snap my mouth closed and gnaw on my bottom lip. “How much would he hate me if I went up there and looked for him? Probably not any more than he hates me right now, right?”
His smile turns softer. “Take the elevators to the fifth floor. Make a left, then you’ll see the door marked on your right.”
“Cool. Thanks. Have a good second half,” I say.
I follow Dallas’s instructions, tapping my foot the whole elevator ride up. When the doors open and I stand in the empty hallway, I wonder if I’m making a huge mistake. This is something a friend would do, and we are not friends.
There’s a voice in my head telling me to check on him, though.
Encouraging me to put one foot in front of the other and move forward until I’m knocking and waiting for him to answer.
“Come in,” says a muffled voice.
I open the door and find Reid inside. He’s sitting on a bench, his shoulders curled inward and head hanging low. His hair is messy, and there’s a hint of sunburn on the back of his neck.
“Hi,” I say. His spine straightens and he turns to look at me. Eyes a little glazed over, he blinks like he’s slow to catch up with who I am and where he is. “Is it okay if I’m here?”
Reid looks back at the wall with a single nod. “Sure.”
I step all the way into the room and take the bench opposite him. The last thing I want to do is crowd his space, to make him feel like I’m here to save the day. I smooth my palms over my leggings and cross my feet at the ankles.
“Are you okay?” I ask after a beat of silence.
“I’m fine.”
I nod even though he’s still staring at the wall, not at me. “Okay.”
He sighs, heavy and resigned. “My dad called before kickoff. I shouldn’t have answered—I don’t normally answer. But my parents are getting older, and I’m afraid if I don’t pick up…” He trails off, his eyes shuttering closed. “I hate the guy, but I try my best not to be a total dick.”
“I understand,” I say, and he cuts his gaze my way.
“You do?”
“Yeah.” I fix my ponytail to give my hands something to do. “My dad had cancer. He went in for a routine physical and walked out with a stage four colon cancer diagnosis. He fought hard for a few months, but I missed the call that told me he passed because I was busy with work. I’ve never forgiven myself.”
Reid’s eyes hold mine. “How long?—”
“Four years ago. A few months before I took my job with the Thunderhawks, actually.”
“I’m still so sorry. I’m going to sound like an asshole complaining about my dad when yours?—”
“Just because our experiences are different doesn’t mean yours is less important.”
He rubs his arm, and I have the urge to touch him there. To put a steadying hand on his shoulder so he’s not alone.
“Permission for a temporary feud pause?” he asks.
My lips twitch. I like this game we’re playing. “Pause granted.”
“I talked about my dad a little bit the night we met at the bar. He’s been disappointed in me for years. Lately, though, he’s in this phase where he’s constantly telling me how I’ve thrown my life away. All the opportunities I’ve wasted because I want to sit behind a phone and videotape athletes. What I do isn’t good enough, and it’s never going to be good enough for him.”
It comes out in a rush of words.
A tangle of emotions claw at his voice as he squeezes his eyes shut and sighs again.
There’s a crack in my heart at the weight he must be carrying. The burdens he holds and the battles he’s fighting. The thoughts he might have about not being enough, all because of a career that brings him joy.
“Maybe he’s projecting,” I say. “Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“My therapist said the same thing. That might be true, but fuck , it hurts to hear how much of a waste of space I am. To hear how much better my friends are than me because they’re professional athletes.”
I get up and take the seat next to him. Our thighs press together, and he doesn’t pull his leg away.
“Have you shown him how good you are at your job?” I ask. “The ideas you come up with and how you’re helping the Titans bring in more fans and boost the team’s earnings?”
Reid tips his chin in my direction. “Trying to find ways to compliment me, Avery? Two weeks ago, you called my videos boring. Why the change in your tune?”
I nudge his ribs with my elbow. “Don’t flatter yourself. We’ve pressed pause, remember?”
“It doesn’t matter how much I’m helping the team make. It could be me earning that money. He has no clue how it works; I’m a glorified influencer to him.”
“Have you set up boundaries?”
“Yeah. Then my mom gets upset, and I cave. She wants us all to be a family, and the more distance I put between us, the sadder she is.”
“You’re not in charge of her feelings, Reid. You’re in charge of yours. You need to do what makes you happy. Otherwise, you’re going to be miserable for the next thirty years.” I pause and rub my thumb across my bottom lip, a smile forming there. “Plus, I’ve seen you play flag football. You’re shit at it. Staying off camera is better for everyone’s health.”
His laugh is a deep rumble. Soft, and a sound I hate myself for wanting to hear again. It echoes around us, and I laugh too.
“I’m going to ignore that last comment and pretend you stopped talking twenty seconds ago when you were complimenting me.” Reid knocks his knee against mine, and I feel the touch everywhere. “I’m sorry for unloading all of this on you.”
“It’s okay. It’s distracting me from the game.” I gesture to the television in the corner of the room. “We’re losing, and I always want to turn off the comments when I have to be the one to post the final score.”
“I’d be concerned about the people who like to lose.” He glances at the screen and snorts. “Dallas has a fantastic leg. I can’t keep coming up with captions that praise his kicking ability. I’m out of good ideas.”
“Maybe you all should stop being so good.”
“Beating you is way more fun.” He looks me up and down. “Where did your box go?”
“My box?”
“The thing you were carrying into my office before the game.”
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” I say innocently.
“You are the least subtle person I know.”
“You saw me and didn’t stop me?”
“Nah. You looked excited. I thought I’d let you have your moment,” he says.
“Oh.” A smile breaks free across my mouth. “Okay, so… I kind of turned your office into a cellophane kingdom.”
Reid drops his head back and laughs again. Louder this time, and his shoulders shake. His grin is bold and beautiful, and I hate him a little bit.
Goddamn him .
Goddamn him for being attractive.
Goddamn him for being vulnerable with me.
Goddamn him for wearing those glasses.
“Fucking genius. I had that on my list to do to you,” he says.
“Sorry I beat you to it. Are you mad?”
“Are you mad about the rubber ducks?”
I’ve been finding them everywhere .
In drawers and under stacks of papers.
In between books on my shelf and in the bottom of coffee mugs.
They keep appearing, and every time one pops up, it feels like Reid is there. Like he’s sitting on the couch behind me and watching me.
“No,” I say. “I’m not mad. How many did you hide?”
“Guess you’ll have to keep looking to find out.”
I take a breath. The silence grows thick, and I turn my body to face him. “I didn’t know about the call. I wouldn’t have?—”
“That’s not how feuds work, Avery. You have to commit to it. You wanted to wrap my desk in cellophane, so you did. And I’m sure it looks great.”
“Want to go see it?” I ask.
His eyes light up, a spark of an ember behind the green. “I’d be honored.”
We leave the sensory room and head down the hall. When we get to his office, Reid scans us in, and I follow him inside. He bursts out laughing at the wrap job we did, and I can’t help but grin.
“Thoughts?”
“I’m impressed,” he says. He pulls a pen from his pocket. He tries to stab the plastic, but it doesn’t give. “I’m going to need a knife to get this off.”
“I made sure your scissors were inside a drawer. I had to make this as difficult as possible for you,” I say.
“I’ve always loved a challenge.”
I stare at him, and he stares back.
The noise from the crowd on the other side of the wall swells to a dull roar, and someone must have scored. We might be in the Titans’ house, but Thunderhawks fans showed up strong today. A win in enemy territory would be nice.
A win against Reid would be nice.
“I should?—”
“Are you—oh. Sorry. What was that?” Reid asks.
“I was going to say I should go. The game and?—”
“Right. Yeah.” He nods and steps out of the way, giving me a wide berth. “Of course.”
“Resume the feud?” I ask.
His eyes bounce to my lips then shift to my neck. “Resume the feud,” he repeats.
I don’t know how it happens.
I don’t know who moves first.
If questioned, I would deny any involvement, but maybe it’s me.
Maybe it’s him.
Maybe it’s both of us, drawn together like magnets, an inevitable pull I can’t resist no matter how hard I fucking try.
One minute, we’re six feet apart.
The next I’m pressed against his door. His hand is tangled in my hair and his mouth is on mine. He’s kissing me like a man starved, and I’m not doing a goddamn thing to stop him.