Page 11 of Home Town Advantage
Palmer’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “Umm, no. My mission isnotto get laid tonight.”
Kennedy gives a short, hard nod. “Well, then you’re good to go. Mission accomplished.”
So much for Kennedy being nice.
Thirty minutes later, we’re walking into a club. It’s called Club Liberty and is supposed to be a Philly hot spot.
The club is beautiful. It’s modern but plays homage to Philly in its touches. The sleek, dark walls are covered in photos of the city. The lights are strobing, and the music is blaring.
Layla immediately comes running toward us with a huge smile on her face. She looks stunning in a short gold dress, showing off her extremely long legs, curvy hips, and full ass. You would certainly never know she recently had a baby.
She wraps her arms around me. “I’m happy you’re here. We’re going to have so much fun. We don’t get out much anymore, but I like to come here to let loose when we do. My mom is watching the baby tonight so we can get our freak on. Right, mi amor?”
She’s a little tipsy already. I love how relaxed she is.
An adorable brown-haired man I hadn’t noticed smiles frombehind her as he wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her cheek. “I love it when you get freaky. Juego encendido, hermosa.”Game on, beautiful.
She places her hands over his and leans back into him in a familiar way. “Sulley, Palmer, Kennedy, this is my short king, my husband, Presley.”
His face falls. “I’m nearly six feet tall. I’m not a short king.” He then playfully bites her neck.
She giggles. “You’re shorter than me. That’s what you get for marrying a basketball player.”
He twists his lips. “Hmm. Worth it.” He looks at the three of us. “Welcome to Philly. You may be the tallest friend group ever. It’s a good thing all my friends are tall too.” He waves his hand in invitation. “Come. We always have a private booth upstairs with security so no one bothers us.” He twists his lips. “Some women go a little feral for my teammates.”
We follow him up a guarded set of steps to what appears to be a balcony overlooking the dance floor. I’m silently praying one last time that his friend group doesn’t include Vance.
I see a large round booth flanked by security. Sure enough, four very famous football players are sitting there with drinks in hand.
There’s one that stands out to me. He always has. He’s wearing his trademark jeans with a flannel top. Every other guy is dressed more fashionably, but not Vance. I can’t see his shoes, but I’d bet my next endorsement deal that he’s wearing cowboy boots. His ever-present frown is firmly in place. I’m sure he’s as happy to see me as I am to see him.
I can feel my heart start to beat faster, like it always has when Vance McCaffrey has been near me. I hate him with every fiber of my being, but I equally can’t ever forget what it felt like the first and only time he touched my body.
FIVE YEARS AGO
Today was the worst day of my life. I watched a coffin with my brother inside be lowered into the ground. I wish I didn’t look. The image will forever be burned into my mind.
I don’t remember the undoubtedly beautiful eulogies, as most of them came and went in a blur, just like the rest of the day. He was loved by everyone who knew him. I only remember Vance’s speech, where he talked about brotherhood. Vance’s mother had complications during his delivery, and she had to have a hysterectomy. He’s an only child and spoke passionately about how Finn was the sibling he never had. How much he truly loved my brother. How there is now a hole in his heart that will never go away. I know the feeling.
He looked exactly like I felt. Broken.
The house has been full of people expressing their deepest sympathies. In some ways, that makes it easier. Late at night, when it gets quiet, that’s when reality truly settles in.
Finn will never walk through the front door again. I’ll never hear his unique laugh again, the one that would always bring a smile to anyone around. It was like Woody Woodpecker, and I loved it. I would give anything to hear it one more time. We’ll never shoot hoops by the garage in the middle of the night until my mother yells at us about the noise. He’ll never see me play another game of basketball. He’ll never achieve his dream of being an architect. I’ll never get to see a true Finn O’Shea original come to life. He designed his cabin on a torn piece of paper and couldn’t do everything he wanted because of the costs. I couldn’t wait to see a true architectural masterpiece, born in his brain, come to life. I manage to crack a small smile at the notion ofFinn’s Fantastic Designs, his childhood name for his countless drawings that somehow stuck.
My parents are barely holding it together, but when Maddie walked into the funeral with a visible baby bump, my mother physically collapsed. Deep sadness set in that my brother won’tknow his child, but it also gave us a shining glimmer of hope that we’ll still have a piece of him to hold onto. I pray this baby can keep my parents going in what I know will be dark days ahead for them.
Finn last visited for my basketball senior night three months ago. Maddie already has a decent-sized belly, but I suppose some women pop early. She’s super tiny, so perhaps small women show more easily.
It’s late at night, and I’m sitting in the treehouse that Finn and Vance built for me when I was six. I’m on the always-present bed of blankets, hugging my knees as I look around. Every single thing in here reminds me of him, my favorite being where he carved our initials in the support beam.
There are inspirational quotes everywhere. He drew them in here before he left for his first tour. He told me to come in here when I needed a push since he wouldn’t be around anymore. Now he’ll never be here for me again.
I squeeze his dog tags in a tight fist. My parents let me keep them when his belongings were returned to us from the military. A matching pair that will never again be reunited with their owner. They’ll be my most precious possession. I won’t ever be without them again.
It sounds like the house has finally emptied, and the bevy of indistinct voices has fallen silent. I hear the familiar creaking of the treehouse ladder and then see Vance’s head appear through the opening in the floor. “Mind if I keep you company?” he asks in his deep velvety voice.
I nod before he finishes his ascent into the treehouse. He looks ridiculous in here. He’s such a big man. Vance was always tall, but now he’s filled out as well. He’s an imposingly perfect creature.
