Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ayda
Spending an afternoon with Deeks was always a nice way to pass the time, even if he did have an opinion on every single box with wheels that I picked out.
Drew would never allow that.
That’s a foreign piece of shit, Ayda. What are you thinking?
Then my favorite: Ayda, you get on that thing and Drew will kill me, not you.
That was because I’d swung my leg over a crotch rocket—something that was just abhorrent to these men. Not to mention it also fell into the category of foreign piece of shit. It didn’t leave me many options, so I gave up and promised Deeks I would torture Drew with the very short, shortlist.
The very same list I’d started with.
We were headed back to The Hut when the day got exponentially better.
Tate was voluntarily out in the muddy grass off to the side of the yard with some of the other guys, throwing a ball around.
They were all covered in mud, streaks of it caking their faces as the sweat cut lines through it.
As always, the boys did nothing half way.
Blood and slow forming bruises were already appearing on arms, legs and faces as they pushed one another around while Tate stood in the middle of his little huddle looking like he was in his element now that his two worlds had collided.
“Who’s winning?” I asked, slipping onto one of the benches next to Libby as Deeks headed straight for the cooler with the beer.
“Who do you think?”
“That’s our boy,” I said, accepting the beer Deeks threw at me before he dropped down next to Harry on the porch steps.
“He’s really good. That smile he’s got on right now is just—” She cut herself off, grinned and looked down at her hands, her cheeks pink as she peeked back at my brother who was pointing his players to where he needed them to be.
I got that she had a big thing for the kid, but hearing that from his older lover was a little bizarre.
“You’ve never been to one of his games?” I asked, steering the direction of our conversation into safer territory.
“Well, no.”
“They still have a couple of games in the season, and if they get into state, even more. You should come with me next time.” I cracked open my beer and drained half of it before kicking my feet out and crossing my ankles.
“I think I might. I also think you should know that he was a mess last night, Ayda,” she said quietly, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, her head turned in my direction and away from the men in the yard.
“He sat up half the night talking about y’all’s lives since your parents died.
He worries about you. He worries that he’s putting a strain on your relationship with Drew and that he’s the reason you were so miserable before… Well, before you met Drew.”
“Then he’s a bigger idiot than he looks.”
“Ayda!”
“Libby,” I huffed, draining the beer I was holding and setting it by my feet.
I watched the play Tate had set up, the snap of the ball, the thunder of the feet and the perfect execution of Tate’s throw.
It was beautiful. It always was, no matter what position he was playing.
I pulled my legs under me and brushed my bangs from my face before sucking in a deep breath and looking back to Libby, who was staring at me with a horrified expression.
“I’d never even thought about kids when my parents died.
I was having too much fun being the selfish college student my parents always encouraged me to be.
Man, they were good at loving us. They had their dreams, but they never pushed them on me.
They just wanted Tate and I to do what made us happy, so I did.
When they were killed, and I realized that I would be Tate’s only role model in life, I freaked the fuck out.
I wasn’t worthy of that. I would never be our mom. ”
“But you did it anyway.”
“I did. I’ve always loved Tate. Yes, he’s my brother, but he was always a sweet kid with a big heart and dreams that reached further than the stars.
I don’t think we’ve ever been typical siblings and that’s not just the age difference.
We used to go camping and we’d drive to college games or to concerts in Dallas.
When I was faced with my parents’ will, it just seemed like a natural decision to make. ”
“What about your dreams?”
“They didn’t matter so much anymore. His happiness made me happy; his dreams became my dreams. I never made the conscious decision to feel that way, either. When he got on the team in junior high and I saw that smile… I just knew.”
“So, you’re saying that he’s an idiot because you weren’t miserable?”
“Oh no, I was miserable alright.” I laughed, leaning my elbows back on the table. “But Tate was the silver lining. He was the thing that made it all bearable. He was what made me happy. He’s also the reason Drew and I crossed paths.”
“Now that I remember.”
“I think the entire pack does. What a night to try and rip off the Hounds.”
Libby started laughing, her eyes moving back to the yard and finding Tate sprinting toward the makeshift end zone with Kenny and Moose at his heels.
He made it over with time to spare, but it didn’t stop Kenny from plowing into him.
I was on my feet in a second, my hands cupped around my mouth to project my voice.
“That’s a foul, asshole! Get off the field.”
Kenny pushed up from the ground and looked in my direction, his hands slapping his chest as a challenge before he shrugged.
“Rules are rules, butthead. Move it or lose it.”
“Pipe down in the cheap seats,” Harry shouted, waving his beer at me. “I got a wager on this game, sweetheart.”
“You bet against my brother, Harry?” I gasped in feigned horror.
“Better odds.”
“How do I get in on that?” Deeks asked, his tone just as teasing as Harry’s was. I loved seeing the club like that, unified and relaxed. A lot of them were still on high alert of course. That was only natural, but days like this were rare and I enjoyed them.
“Oh, y’all are going down.”
“How you gonna manage that?”
I shrugged, pulling off my sweater, just leaving a T-shirt underneath.
Handing it to Libby, I put my index finger and thumb to my lips and whistled as loud as I could.
Tate’s head popped up from his huddle and found me on the sideline, his eyes lighting up.
It had been a while since I’d been on the field with him.
“You sure?” he shouted.
“What are you implying, Tater?” Tater was the name I’d used for him when he was born. I knew it wasn’t right, but I used to tell Mom it was because he looked like a little tater tot all wrapped up in his swaddle blanket.
“You can be on Kenny’s team.”
“What? Why? I wanna be on the winning team,” I shouted back, knowing what I was about to start.
“Hey!” Kenny’s eyebrow shot up and his tone was full of incredulity. “You saying we’re not winners, Hanagan?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I shot back, bouncing on my toes to taunt him further. “I could beat you alone with a hand behind my back. You’re the worst player I ever saw, K-Dog.”
“Come here and say that.” Kenny laughed, spreading his arms wide. “I dare you.”
Every man in the yard started to laugh, the whoops and hollers egging me on until I pushed off my toes and sprinted toward Kenny, stopping only when I was about four-feet away.
There was a method to my madness. The mud was pooled by my feet.
In an act of innocence, I clasped my hands behind my back and angled my body forward in a lean.
“You are the worst player I ever saw, Kenny.”
The moment he moved to grab me, my foot kicked out, spraying a line of mud right up his front and into his hair.
He froze, I think in disbelief, as he tried to calculate just how much of a mug he’d been to fall into my trap.
It wasn’t like you could really tell all that much.
They were all covered in mud anyway. My attack was just a little more deliberate.
“You got a little something…” I said, trailing off and pointing to my eyebrow.
“I’m gonna give you a head start.”
“You think I’m scared of you?”
“One.”
I was gone, my feet slipping and sliding in the mud as I headed straight for Deeks and Harry. Harry was laughing, but Deeks looked unsure, his humor evident only in a small smile as I dodged and cut a path in the opposite direction behind Tate’s team.
Kenny didn’t buy into my little game. He was like a train on rails, and he kept coming, his laugh maniacal as he finally caught me and took us both down and into the mud.
He twisted to make sure he was on the bottom, ensuring my landing was softer, but he had one hand holding my arms as the other grabbed handfuls of wet mud to rub in my hair.
“Bastard. You’re such a bastard.” I half squealed and laughed. I finally struggled loose and rolled to my knees, my hand scooping up mud as I slid inelegantly to my feet. “Payback is a bitch.”
I lobbed the mud ball at him and took off, sliding on my feet as I tried to sprint to safety but found myself defying gravity as he hoisted me over his shoulder with a shout of victory.
I was laughing so hard at my attempt to get free from his grasp that I didn’t hear the bikes pull into the yard.
I didn’t know how long they’d been there when I finally caught sight of them, but I knew something wasn’t quite right as Drew swung his leg over the bike and dropped his helmet onto the seat.