Page 1 of The Wiener Across the Way

WIENERS AND GRAY SWEATPANTS

DECLAN

The only time I enjoyed being up at the butt crack of dawn was when I’d pulled an all-nighter between the legs of a lush and gorgeous woman. That was not why I was awake at sunrise today, and that just fucking sucked.

I was in a shitty mood. Which wasn’t anything new. I certainly shouldn’t be around anyone, including my well-meaning brothers who were probably already knocking on my door this morning to console me.

I was all up in my head and the only way to get out was a brutal workout, like the one I was inflicting on myself this morning at stupid o’clock early. I wanted punishing. Only an asshat like me would come this close to losing the Mustangs our whole damn game yesterday.

Too bad it wasn’t snowing like it had a week ago. No, today, the sun was shining down, setting us up for a seventy-five-degree day. Fucking sunshine. Even climbing the steps at Rust Rocks wasn’t enough to shake off the funk that had envelopedme. Maybe I’d have half a chance if someone wasn’t singing the fluffiest pop. The kind that wormed its way into my brain and took up way too much space.

Damned if I didn’t already know every word.

I wouldn’t have hit the Rocks this morning if I knew there was going to be a sound check. Although Jules was going to pee her pants when I told her. I may be a professional athlete, but even I got a little starstruck over Kelsey Best.

Nobody needed to know that listening in on the bits of songs she sang testing her equipment out lifted the dark cloud over my grumpy ass just a little.

Security had already kicked everyone else out, but one scowl from me, and they’d left me to my workout. Helped that I’d been coming here for years, they all knew me, and I was generous with tips when they let me in early. And the fact that I’d promised to go after a few more rounds of climbing the steps.

Besides, I was here first. Kelsey and her people had shown up after sunrise, so I wasn’t giving up my time just because she was one of the world’s most popular singers.

I needed to beat this mood, get above the line, or I’d never find my focus for practice today. It was going to be hell reviewing those tapes, and I had a feeling coach was going to kick my ass.

Sort of like I wanted to kick the ass of whoever decided it would be a good idea to add a yapping dog track to the song Kelsey was singing right now. It was really throwing off the beat.

I hit the top step, gave a good stretch of my neck from one side to the other, took the last swig of my water, tossed it in the trash can, and turned to head back down the almost two hundred steps to the stage area. Hold up. That barking wasn’t part of the song. Kelsey just stopped singing and the music track that accompanied her did too. But the yap yap yap was still going strong, and it was coming from all the way up here somewhere.

Who the hell let a dog loose in the amphitheater? And a little yappy one at that? Dumb fuckers. It wasn’t safe. Coyotes or mountain lions would have no qualms about making a snack out of someone’s pet. I followed the sound of the barking until I saw one of the weirdest things in my ever-living life. A sparkly blue blob was barking like some kind of stuffed animal come to life. Was this a joke?

Either that or I was hallucinating. Must be the lack of oxygen to my brain from going twelve laps up and down the enormous steps.

Except, the barking turned into a low growl, and that’s when I heard the distinctive and scary as shit rattling sound coming from the scrubby trees and rocks on the north side of the path over to the parking lot at the top. The sweater was not yapping at some baby toy. Nope. That was a rattlesnake, and if I didn’t do something fast, blue fluffball of fur was going to die.

I crept closer, slower than the concrete-cleated New England Rebels quarterback, and called to the pooch as quietly as I could. “Here doggy, doggy, doggy. Come here you dumb little poop, before you really piss that snake off.”

The dog lowered its head and growled some more, but it also wagged its tail. Little bugger had heard me but wasn’t willing to give up the fight yet. I didn’t know whether it was brave or dumb. But as I inched closer, the same thing could probably be said about me too. “Come on, poochy poo. Someone is going to be really sad if you get poisoned and eaten by that snake.”

Doggo still didn’t back down, but its tail basically went ballistic, which did not please the rattler. Shit. I started looking around for something I could throw at the snake to distract it so I could make a dash for the pup. But I didn’t see a damn thing. The Rust Rocks maintenance crew were on their fucking game. The walkway up here was immaculate.

Kelsey’s voice burst through the speakers, but this time it was no sound check. “Has anyone seen Wiener the Pooh?”

If I wasn’t afraid either me or the dog were about to die, I would have snort laughed. She named her dachshund Wiener the Pooh? I had to assume that was who was growling and wagging her tail in front of me right now. I quietly called her name, but it had the same effect as before. More tail wagging.

Okay, time for plan B. I slowly pulled my shirt up and over my head. No, I did not think I was going to dazzle the snake with my abs. That would have worked if Chris or Everett had tried it, I’m sure. I was the bulkiest one of the bunch, and that made me a killer defensive linesman. But not an underwear model.

On the steps below, I heard people calling the dog’s name, and for the first time, it distracted her from her prey. Which was a bad thing. I launched my t-shirt at the snake in an attempt to either cover it up or at least block it if it decided to strike. I hit the thing dead on, and while it flopped about under my shirt, I lunged forward to snag up the little dog like a fumbled football.

Like I should have done in the game yesterday.

Little Wiener wiggled like a happy baby and licked my face about a thousand times. I headed toward the steps and called down, “I found her.”

Kelsey was already halfway up the steps, and the closer she got, the more I fucking forgot how to breathe. And it wasn’t the altitude. She was so much prettier in person than on the screen, and that was saying a lot. I was going to have to hold her squirmy little dog in front of my junk, because my gray sweatpants were not going to hide the bulge forming there.

Shit.

She was breathing hard by the time I met her a tenth of the way down, and while my mind was completely in the gutter, I was also impressed she hadn’t keeled over racing up here like that. The steps at Rust Rocks were a workout for even thefittest, plus, this was the Mile High City baby. What we lacked in oxygen, we made up for with the view.

But even the sunrise over the Flatirons didn’t compare to the beauty that was Kelsey Best with rosy-red cheeks.

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