Tamed V (3 page)

“Eight o’clock,” I chime in, dropping my cool façade. I puff my chest out and tense my arm muscles. God, I’m desperate.

“We go out afterwards, too—you should come,” Adrian says hopefully.

Sophie’s tugging my hand so I start to move along. This is Adrian’s thing, not mine, but when I glance back I see her looking at me with interest. I think she’ll come. For me, not him.

Chapter 4

I feel my best after a game. The adrenaline runs high and my muscles are warm. These are the nights I welcome attention from girls like Mary (Marcy?)
and non-committal sex to work off the high. I’m not in the place to be
anything
to
anyone
right now, other than for my family, and even for them I’m not sure I’m measuring up.

It’s not the same as when I played high school ball or even for my club team. But even so I still have local celebrity status. It may be all I ever have and I find myself clinging to that position desperately.

Columbus is a small town, small enough for shitty bars and bartenders who look the other way. At nineteen, I could have been serving my country with the rest of the guys in this town. Why not serve me beer? Someone shoves one in my hand the minute I walk in the door and I’ve drained half of it before I get past the entry.

“Great game,” people say when I stroll through the bar. Men clap me on the shoulder. Women rest a hand on my arm, squeezing the hard muscle beneath my shirt. They want to touch a hero and I’m the closest this town has had in a while—something positive outside the war. I failed them, but they still lift me up.

I spot Adrian by the bar talking to Bird. She’s got some sort of white filmy shirt and those raggedy cut-offs she wears all the time. My eyes glue to her chest because she’s showing a hint of cleavage and that’s all it takes, you know? A hint. Makes a guy want to see what else is under there.

I start in their direction but come face to face with Shelly (Shelby?) a girl I hang around with some. Her hand cinches around my waist and she says, “Nice double.”

I smile down at her. Shiny black hair. Firm tits. She’s a lot of fun. “Thanks.”

She links her fingers with mine. “Maybe later…”

“Yeah, I’ll find you,” I say, but my eyes are across the bar. On her. I tug away.

“Awesome game,” Adrian says when I approach them.

“You too, man. How’s the shoulder?” He took a pitch to the arm in the third inning.

Adrian rolls up his sleeve and reveals a fresh, red bruise. It hasn’t even turned purple yet. “Pretty wicked.”

I laugh and reach for the bottle the bartender slides in my direction. “That’s gonna hurt like a mother.”

“It already does.” He grimaces. Adrian looks at Bird, whose been watching the two of us. “Hollis wants to know why the hell you’re hanging around Columbus and not in the big leagues?”

“Who’s Hollis?”

They both look at me like I’m an idiot and I realize that Bird’s real name is Hollis.

Hollis.

I like it.

Once that’s cleared up I narrow my eye at Adrian. His comment is a low blow and it makes me wonder if he realizes she’s been watching me and not him. “Yeah, well I want to know when you’re going to stop pussy-ing out and not take a hit every fucking week.” I tag him on the shoulder for good measure and he winces in pain.

“Wow.”

We both turn and stare at Hollis. I look away and take a sip of my beer.

“So this is what a lifetime of testosterone-fueled sports does to a guy?” she asks, looking irritated.

Whatever.

I empty the bottle and place it on the bar top. I don’t need this. Adrian’s shit and this girl’s judgment. I don’t even know her and she sure as hell doesn’t know me. I walk away.

It doesn’t take me long to find another group to settle in with, one that doesn’t pressure me or ask questions. Shelby (Shelly?) sticks to my side and her hands are soft and warm. I should be leaving with her any time now, heading out for a good time, but Hollis lingers around the edge of the bar, distracting me. She mingles easily with this crowd of unfamiliar faces like she’s a regular. I wonder if she asks any of them about me. I wonder what they tell her.

“So,” the girl with jet-black hair says.

I lift an eyebrow.

“You want to go back with me?”

The pressure in my pants says I do. And my fingers drunkenly tangled in the hair resting on her back agree, but one look at Hollis standing near the door in that gauzy shirt makes me say, “I’d better not.”

I leave with the same fanfare. Congratulations. Excellent hit. Nice save. I avoid their eyes because they’re hopeful, something I let go of long ago. The outside air is warm and muggy but for the first time all night, I can breathe.

How long can I do this?

Hollis approaches me near my Jeep. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t get the chance to tell you how much I enjoyed the game, you know, before you and Adrian started acting like jerks.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” I reach in my pocket for my keys. They drop to the ground with a clink.

Hollis picks them up first. When she bends over I get a peek down her shirt. White lace. Nice.

“Maybe I should drive?”

“My Jeep?” I shake my head. “No.”

“You’re drunk, Tucker.”

I lean against the car. Hollis reaches for my hand. “I’ve got a car, let me drive. You can pick up the Jeep tomorrow.”

Her hand in mine feels nice and I let it stay as she maneuvers us through the parking lot. She has an old Volvo, more rust than yellow paint. I settle in the seat next to her. “You drive a stick?”

“Sure.”

She starts the car and the engine is loud but soothing. I watch her hand grip around the knob of the gear shift, imagining what it would feel like to have her hand on me. The idea makes me shift in my seat.

“What?” she asks, looking over at me. She smiles and I realize I, too, have a grin on my face.

“Nothing.” I give her directions and stare at the city, then rows of houses as we drive.

“So what’s your story, Tucker Jensen?”

I shrug. “Army brat. Baseball star. Big brother.”

“You’re a brat?” she asks.

“Spoiled rotten.”

I look over at this girl and her hair blowing around from the open top. I want her but she plays me with a level of aloofness I can’t get a handle on. “What about you?”

Hollis stares out the window. I stare at her. “Wanderer. Adrift. Rolling stone.”

“That’s your story now or always.”

“Always,” she says. “I left home at sixteen. Went to school for a while, dropped out, traveled a bit. I kind of just go where life takes me.”

I snort. “And life brought you here? To Columbus?”

“My family needed me. My brother is all I have left.” She tilts her head. “Plus, I’ve never been here before and I like meeting new people.”

“Sounds like most the people around here. Moving a lot. New people all the time.”

“Sort of,” she agrees.

My tongue feels loose and I’m warm and comfortable next to her. Before I think better of it, I say, “I had a scholarship.”

“In baseball?”

“To Harvard.”

“What happened?”

“I passed it up for my shot at pro.”

“And…”

I look at her. She’s so pretty. So different. She seems sort of flighty but not now. Now she’s entirely focused. On me. I rub my hand over my head and turn back to the window.

“And my father never came back from Iraq,” I say to the wind. “I stayed home to help my mom.”

“Oh, Tucker,” she says. “That seems improbably unfair.”

“Life’s not fair,” I say. I’ve heard it so many times but it’s true. I point up ahead. “That’s my house. The blue one.”

It’s past midnight and all the lights are out. The kids should be in bed. Sophie with her blanket that she’s never grown out of. Owen with his cap stuffed under his pillow. Joe’s probably texting Lindsey on his phone. I know I would be. And my mom…I don’t even want to think about it.

I hook a finger in the door handle and give Hollis a smile. “Thanks for the ride, Bird.”

“What?”

I cup her neck and rub my fingers over where I suspect the tattoo should be inked in her skin. “That’s what I call you.”

“Bird?”

“Yeah,” I say and I watch her lick her bottom lip. My dick goes hard(er) and I take the risk, leaning in to kiss her. I go for it slow, not wanting to make a jackass out of myself, because I’m not used to rejection. If anyone could reject me it would be her. This girl. This enigma.

She doesn’t though, her lips press against mine and I feel her tongue in my mouth. She tastes like beer. She smells like sunshine. I’d give anything to reach my hand up her skirt, to tug at the lace bra I’d seen earlier that night.

She pulls away from me before I can make my next move and says, “Bird, I like that. Good night, Tucker.”

I can’t fight the smile on my face but I know it’s time to go. I open the door and step outside. “See you.”

Raising my hand in a wave, she starts off, the engine loud and rumbling. I walk up the pathway to the side door, bumping into the bushes along the way, feeling lighter than I have in months.

*

“Hey, hey, hey, hey…”

I open and eye and see Sophie an inch from my face. I push my head into the pillow.

“Tucker, time to get up. Mom said.” She hits the top of the pillow.

“I’m up.”

I start to think she may have left but then I feel her bouncing on the bed. “I’m not leaving ‘til you get up. Mom told me not to let you go back to sleep and to tell you it’s your own fault for staying out so late.”

Mom. I fight the rising anger building in my chest.

“I’m up,” I say again. “I need a minute, okay?”

“I’ll be outside the door.”

I tug her hair. “I’m sure you will. Go make me some coffee, eh?”

The hangover isn’t bad. I didn’t drink that much. I remembered everything about the night before. The game, the double, Adrian, Bird.

Hollis. Not Bird.

In the bathroom I take a piss, working through the morning wood that got woodier the second I think of Bird and her lace bra and…shit.

Sophie points to the coffee on the kitchen counter. We all had to grow up a little faster over the last couple of years. Well, half grow up, half stunted. None of us can figure out how to move on completely without him.

“Sophie and Owen have camp today. Joe is working for Mr. Boggs until six. I need you to drop them all off, okay?”

“What time will you be home?” I ask, pouring sugar into my coffee, making it as sweet as possible.

“Probably after six.”

“So I need to pick them up, too.”

Using the reflection of the microwave, she applies a thick coat of lipstick. Mom got the job working at a law firm downtown after dad died. She had to do something, she said.

Something, apparently, did not include raising four kids.

“That would be great. Just think, once Joe earns enough money for a car you’ll be off the hook,” she says.

I inherited my looks from my mother. She’s beautiful. Even now, with the graying hair and tired eyes. She carries a streak of vanity that I also inherited. She wears nice clothes to work and I suspect she has a thing for someone in the office. She’s got that look. The one the girls wear when they have a thing for me.

“We’ve got a game at 5:30,” I tell her. Sophie and Owen’s team. I swallow the question of if she’ll be there or not. She never comes. “I can’t pick up Joe.”

“Well, text him and tell him to get a ride or walk. I’m sure the landscaping crew can drop him off.” She slips her arms into her jacket, adjusting the collar.

“Dinner?” I ask, knowing better.

“Just grab something or whatever.”

Or whatever. My father would roll over in his grave.

She grabs her briefcase and slings her purse over her shoulder. She’s halfway to the door when she stops and walks back over. “I heard you had a good game last night.”

“It was alright.”

“Thanks for all you do, honey. I’d be lost without you.” She kisses me on the cheek and I’m engulfed with her perfume. The boiling anger secedes a little.

“Have a good day, Mom.”

She stops to give Sophie a kiss and to ruffle Owen’s hair and she’s out the door.

And that’s why I can’t leave.

*

Adrian gives me and the kids a ride since I left my car at the bar. I don’t apologize for last night—neither does he, but I know we’re cool. He needs to work on not running his mouth so damn much and I need to get a handle on my temper.

“I’ll see you at the center,” he says, leaving me in the empty bar parking lot.

I stop by one of the coffee shops downtown on the way to work. I’ve just placed my order when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

Bird.

“Not surprised to see you here today,” she laughs.

“Yeah, I figured caffeine would make it better.” I look around but don’t see Felix. “You off duty?”

She nods. “Felix had a play date. My sister-in-law is napping. What about you?”

“I’ve got to go in to work,” I say. She looks a little defeated, which makes me happy. I add, “Then the game tonight.”

“Another night, another game.”

“Welcome to my life.”

We move away from the counter and I rub my hand over the back of my neck. “Thanks for giving me a ride home last night. Wrapping my Jeep around a telephone pole would have sucked.”

“Anytime,” she says.

We stand awkwardly together. I’ve never talked to a girl like this, where we just talked and didn’t take it further. And to be honest, all I want is to take it further, but I like her, too. In that talking kind of way.

Everything is weird.

“So last night,” she says, diving into the weirdness. I should have known. Something about Hollis seems fearless. “You and me.”

God, she hated that kiss. Fuck. I scramble to make an apology. “Yeah, sorry about that. Can I claim drunken douche?”

“I’m a big girl Tucker. I can handle a little drunken kiss.” She looks at me from under heavy eyelids. “Or more.”

I swallow, taking in that information. “Good to know.”

She raises an eyebrow.