Page 42 of Hard Count
If it were me, she would be the only benefit I would need. Maybe he felt the same.
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same man? He sacrifices a lot for the team. He’s the first one to show up and the last to leave. He does everything with us in mind.”
“You’re right. He is all of those things.” She hops off the counter and slides past me. “You should probably go. I haveto catch up on some reading, finish watching the game, and write up my report so I can give it to the guys tomorrow at practice.” She tosses our dirty spoons into the sink making them clatter around until they settle against the metal surface.
“Stop,” I say, when she slams the freezer door and walks back to the living room. “Drew, please. I’m not leaving when you’re upset with me.” I wrap my arms around her from behind and press the side of my face against hers.
“I’m not upset with you. If anything, I guess I’m jealous.” I loosen my grip so she can turn in my arms. It’s almost comical that she would be jealous of me considering how I was acting over her classmates a half hour ago.
“Can you tell me why?” I ask.
“You already said it. He’s a man who sacrificed himself so the team could have everything they needed. I was the sacrifice when I should have been everything.” Her eyes pool with tears before she buries her head in my chest.
It isn’t my place to fix their relationship. I don’t know where I would even begin to try. But I’ll be damned if this girl ever goes another day feeling as if she’s less than everything. Not while I’m still breathing and she gives me the opportunity to do it.
15
DREW
NEWHOUSE 6-0
Nash’s hand glides up my bare thigh under the hem of my shorts as he kisses me harder against the kitchen island. I tighten my grip on his waist when his tongue rolls around mine. He’s turning me on so much I’m ready to forget the dinner and go back to my place.
“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Dad shouts as he enters the kitchen with his hands full of Chinese takeout. Nash practically flies across the kitchen at the sound of his voice. I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my laughter. I’m not sure how we’re going to keep this from him.
My dad may not see everything I do for the football team but he isn’t an idiot. Nash and I aren’t exactly hiding our attraction to each other. It's kind of hard to. We haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other since our first kiss outside my apartment. Not that I’m complaining. I likethat he constantly has this need to touch me even if it’s something simple like holding my hand.
I help my dad empty the bags while Nash opens up the containers and grabs serving spoons for each dish. He knows this kitchen better than I do. My dad’s switched everything around since Mom and I moved out years ago. I often wonder why he didn’t move into something smaller. There’s no reason for a single man to be living in a four bedroom house.
“I think we have a full buffet here, Coach,” Nash says.
My dad looks over the spread he’s put together. “You can’t order Chinese food without having enough for leftovers. This will keep me fed for the next few days.”
The thought of my dad eating alone every night makes my throat swell with guilt. Nash runs his hand down my back as if he can sense my distress. Does he know me that well already? It hasn’t been that long since we’ve started spending more time together. Has he been watching me close enough to have my emotional cues figured out?
“You should probably call me Gavin when you come over for these dinners,” he says with one eye on Nash as he drops his arm from my back. “I’m Coach on the field.” He passes me a plate and encourages me to go first. “I got you a bunch of those crab things you used to ask for all the time. Do you still like those?”
“I do. Thanks.” I add half of what’s in the white carton to my plate without thinking twice. “If you want one, you better get them now. I won’t be so generous a second time.”
“Thiswas you being generous?” Nash pops the whole Crab Rangoon in his mouth. “What if I said they were my favorite?”
“Are they?”
“No. They’re good but this is my go to.” He adds two hearty scoops of General Tso’s chicken onto his plate.
“Okay slow down, sir.” I place a hand on his wrist. “I want some of that too.”
“I bought two of those.” My dad slides over a second container in my direction. “You used to eat all of mine when you were little.”
“I thought you didn’t like it.”
“That’s what I said because I didn’t want you to feel bad for eating most of mine but it’s one of my favorites too. Something we have in common.” He smiles.
I push what’s left of the chicken toward my dad and try to mask the shock I’m feeling from him not only remembering something from years ago but also for never scolding me for taking something that wasn’t meant for me. It seems out of character and unlike the man I know now.
“Why?” I find myself asking the question out loud. I know I shouldn’t slice open old wounds. It’s why I typically stay quiet about most things that strike a nerve or hit me the wrong way. It isn’t worth the confrontation.
“Huh?” He takes his food to the small table off the kitchen. Nash adds two egg rolls to his plate and joins him. Meanwhile I’m frozen in place.
