JOCK (Boston Terriers Book 5), page 11
“I don’t know, lately she’s been on my case about getting a girlfriend.”
“Really?”
“Yep. And it’s bad. Every time she calls me she asks me if I’ve found one yet.”
I chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Did you tell her you have thrice weekly auditions for the slot?”
He smacks me in the chest with the back of his hand. “Good one. I’m going to next time and maybe she won’t ask anymore.”
“Whatever happened with you and Leah? I thought you were going to ask her out.”
“We hung out at the football game a couple weeks ago and grabbed a bite to eat after. Amelia and Grace were with us, but it still felt like there was chemistry there. Then she and Amelia came to the party afterward and she shut me down when I tried to get her to stay over.” He tugs a black elastic out of his pocket and combs his hair back with his hands, fastening the waves into a ponytail. “After that happened, I didn’t want to ask her out. I didn’t want to feel like I was begging her to go out with me. I have some pride.”
“You do know there’s a difference between asking someone out and asking them to be a one nighter?”
“Yes, dad, I do.”
“Did you make it clear to Leah that you were interested in taking her out?”
He runs his hand over his beard, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
“If you don’t know, it’s probably safe to assume she didn’t understand. Why don’t you talk to her the next time you see her?”
“I don’t know, man. The more I think about it, I realize I’m not ready for a relationship. I’m busy enough between training and school. Why pile more on?”
“If you feel that way then you’re smart to keep your distance. Don’t start something you’re not prepared for.”
The front door of the shop opens, and the kids begin to enter. We both glance at each other. Clancy shakes his head. “Fuck. You get the water and I’ll grab their projects.”
I agree and rush over to the sink, filling up ten bowls of water. I set them all on a long plastic tray and carry it out to the main room.
“Hey, Owen,” the kids call out. I greet them individually as I set down bowls of water within each person’s reach. Clancy follows behind handing out their work and cracking jokes that make them roll their eyes and laugh. But as always, within a matter of minutes they’re all engrossed in the art they’re creating. Some of these street hardened kids have done a stint in juvenile detention, and some of them are repeat offenders. But when they’re here, with a paint brush in their hand, they seem no different than any other teenager. Art has the amazing power to bring people together and let them forget about their differences, and their worries. It’s a great equalizer.
Clancy and I linger nearby in case any of them need anything, but after a while it’s apparent they’re all set.
Mrs. Wilde returns to the rear area where the kids are painting. She observes and offers each of them praise and encouragement. Genuine smiles appear at her words and it makes me wonder how long it’s been since they were complimented by their parents or guardians? Positive reinforcement should start at home, but for these kids that’s not always the case. It makes me even more thankful for my grandmother. I was one of the lucky ones who had someone to raise me when I lost my mom. No one could possibly replace my mother, and I wouldn’t want them to, but I knew - I know my grandmother loves me with all her heart.
Moving away from the group, I head to the back room to check on the pieces Eliza and I painted yesterday. I find the finished products on the designated shelf and remove the piggy bank she worked on. There are bumble bees flying above some daisies that she drew, and she painted Beatrice’s name in pink. What a great older sister she must be. I smile imagining her showering Beatrice with words of praise. I bet that little girl is loved and already knows it at her young age.
I return the bank to its spot on the shelf. Footsteps shuffle behind me and I peer over my shoulder. Clancy stops beside me. “What’s that?” He tips his chin toward the pig.
“Do you know who Eliza Michel is?”
“No. Should I?”
“Did I tell you how Dean Benson got me a tutor to help me make up the work I missed?”
He laughs, “No.”
“He did, but it’s been great. Eliza is the one who’s been helping me. She’s amazing.”
“What does she have to do with the pig?”
“I brought her here yesterday and she painted this for her little sister.”
“You brought her here?”
“Is there an echo in this place?” I glance up at the ceiling and around the room.
“You’re a riot. Jesus, my mother must have loved that. Now, she’ll be hounding me even more about getting a girlfriend. Thanks a lot, you selfish fuck.”
“Yeah, that’s me. Anyway, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, it was our first date. After we finished up painting, we grabbed sandwiches from Michael’s Deli and brought them back to my place.”
“How do I not know anything about this girl? How long has she been tutoring you?”
“About a week and a half.”
“You’ve been avoiding all the guys since you got out of the hospital.”
“That’s not true. I went over to the frat house last week.”
“And no one’s seen you since, except between classes, and only in passing.”
“I’m glad you’ve all been discussing my antisocial tendencies. I don’t know what you guys expect. A lot has happened in the last few weeks. I’m still dealing with the fallout. They reported my assault on the news. I’m lucky they didn’t release my name, so everyone knows who I am.” I cross my arms over my chest. “And it’s not like anyone who goes to our school doesn’t know what happened between Hannah and me. It’s a lot to process. I have people on a daily basis making snide comments when I walk by or shouting them out from the back of the classroom.”
“Dude, I had no idea you were dealing with all that. Point the fuckers out and I’ll kick their asses.”
“I know you would, but that’s not the answer. I don’t want anyone to fight my battles. It’s my baggage and I’ll handle it. I put myself in this position and I don’t expect an easy out.”
Clancy places his hand on my shoulder. “I’m here for you, whatever you need. And you know the rest of the guys would be too.” He squeezes my arm before shoving his hands in the front pockets on his jeans. Clancy has never been comfortable with expressing his feelings.
“I’m aware.” I nod slowly. “But I’m having a tough time without football, and I’m doing the best I can to keep my shit together and not completely lose it. My head is still fucked up from the concussion and my temper is currently operating on an extremely short fuse. Being with Eliza makes me feel better. I don’t know what it is about her, but she calms me without having to try. She makes my head stop spinning.”
“Then enjoy her company and see what happens.”
“That’s what we’re doing, but I really like her. She’s skittish, though. I think she’s been hurt in the past.”
“She’ll realize what a stand-up guy you are soon enough.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figure. I’ll move things along slowly. I just got out of that fucked up mess with Hannah and I don’t need to rush into a serious relationship. If it happens that’s one thing, but I’m not going to hurry it along. And maybe the timing for Eliza and I will work out without football filling up my schedule.”
“That’s one way to look at it positively. I hope you’re right.”
Eliza: Hey this is Perri. Eliza wanted me to let you know she’s sick and won’t make it tonight.
Shit. What’s going on? She was fine last night.
Me: What’s wrong?
Eliza: I don’t know. I’m not a doctor. She’s in bed with a sore throat, fever, cough etc…
Me: Are you staying with her?
Eliza: I’ll be here for the next hour and then I have to work until midnight.
If she’s sick in bed she shouldn’t be alone. What if she needs something and no one’s there to help her?
Me: I’m coming over to stay with her.
Eliza: Do you think that’s necessary?
It’s necessary for my peace of mind.
Me: I want to make sure she’s okay.
Eliza: Get here before six or I won’t be around to let you in.
Me: Will do.
Grabbing my backpack, I shove a DVD inside, scoop my keys up from the table by the door, and hurry out to my truck. I make a quick stop on the way to Eliza’s, grabbing some chicken soup, ginger ale, and popsicles; the three things my grandmother always had on hand when I was under the weather. I also purchase tissues, cough drops, and fever reliever in case she needs them.
I make it to her place as quickly as possible and hold my breath as I knock on the door. Perri better not have left early. Eliza shouldn’t be alone. When there’s no answer I knock again, louder this time, and then pound on the steel with the side of my fist.
Perri opens the door. “Jeez, you could wake the dead with that knock.”
I shrug my shoulders. “You didn’t hear me the first time.”
“I heard you. I just wanted to finish putting my hair up.”
Is this girl for real? Eliza and her cousin are polar opposites in almost every way it seems.
“Can I come in?”
“Oh, sure. Sorry about that.” She steps back and I step past her while she closes the door. She crooks her finger beckoning me to follow as she walks by. “Let me show you where to put that stuff.” Leading me into the kitchen she opens her arms to the sides. “Make yourself at home. Just check the cabinets and drawers and you’ll find everything you need. I’m going to grab my stuff and get out of here.”
“Okay. Let me ask you, does Eliza like chicken soup?”
She smiles. “She loves it. That’s really sweet that you brought her some. I hope this means you’re a nice guy, because she doesn’t need a dickhead in her life.”
“Does anyone really need a dickhead in their life?” I joke.
“No, but she especially doesn’t. So, if you’re just dicking her around, please don’t.”
“My intentions are honorable where she’s concerned. I really like her.”
“Good. She deserves to have someone care about her and treat her like the one of a kind girl she is. I should be home by twelve-thirty or so if you don’t want to hang around that long.”
“I’ll stay until you get back. I have my laptop with me and I can get some work done.”
“I’ll leave you to it then. Thanks again for coming over. I’m glad Eliza has you to look out for her.”
“Thanks. I hope you have a good night at work.” She waves her hand and disappears from the kitchen. I make myself at home, pulling a pan out of the cabinet and setting it on the stove. The ginger ale goes in the fridge and the popsicles in the freezer. Opening the can of soup, I dump it in the pan and add the correct amount of water. Turning on the burner, I grab a spoon and give it a quick stir before I hurry from the kitchen to check on Eliza.
When I get to the hallway, I’m not sure which room is hers. For some reason my instincts are telling me she’s behind the door on the left. I knock softly. “Eliza,” I call out. There’s no answer. I knock again before I carefully open the door and peer inside. Sandy brown locks are spread out over her pillow, but I can’t see her face. The covers are pulled up to mid forehead. My sneakers are quiet on the thick, beige carpeting as I rush to her bedside. Gently, I pull down the comforter and expose her face. I raise my hand and press the back of my fingers against her flushed cheek. It’s hot. Hotter than I expected. And now I’m worried. Is it okay for adults to get fevers like this? I’ve never been one to get sick very often, at least not since I was a young teenager. Should I take her to the hospital?
First things first. I’m going to make the soup and get her to eat some. When she’s awake I’ll get a better idea of how she’s doing.
I return to the kitchen and stir the soup. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I fill it with tap water and guzzle it down. When I set the glass in the sink, I notice a picture of Eliza and a little girl who must be Beatrice. Picking up the small frame from the window sill, I study the image. Both have the same blue eyes, although Beatrice’s hair is dark brown. They share a similar face shape and their smiles are nearly identical. I find myself grinning at how happy Eliza looks. Her open and unguarded expression fills my chest with an emotion I’m not used to feeling. Her happiness is becoming important to me. Which means she’s becoming important to me. For the first time since my mom passed, the thought of caring about someone else this much doesn’t scare me.
Chapter Fifteen
Eliza
A soothing gentle touch strokes my hair back from my forehead. “Eliza, wake up, beautiful.” The soft caresses continue. “Eliza, it’s time to eat.”
“Owen?” I whisper through dry lips. My tongue slips out to soothe the chapped skin.
“I’m here.” His fingers comb through the front of my hair.
Opening my eyes, I find him sitting on the edge of my bed, smiling down at me. His eyes are filled with concern.
“Hey, sleeping beauty. I wasn’t sure you were going to wake up. I was getting ready to kiss you awake.” I close my eyes and pretend to snore. Owen chuckles. “I guess you really wanted that kiss.”
Glancing up at him, my lips shift into a tiny smile. “I definitely want your kiss, but not when I’m sick.”
“That’s good to know. I’ve wanted to kiss you since our first study session, but I promised myself I wouldn’t rush you.”
“There’s rushing and there’s going at a snail’s pace,” I jest before breaking into a coughing fit.
He helps me to sit up and rubs my back until the barking sound stops.
“You sound horrible. Maybe you need to go to the doctor?”
“No, it’s just a virus,” I croak. Owen grabs a cup of water from the nightstand and hands it to me. I raise it to my lips and take small sips. The cold liquid is soothing to my sore throat. “Beatrice was sick last weekend. I’m sure I caught it from her.” I drink down the rest of the water and sigh.
He places his palm on my forehead. “You’re burning up, babe.”
Babe? “Did you call me babe, or am I hallucinating from my fever?”
He chuckles, taking the empty cup from me. “I did. Is that okay?”
“I think I like it, but my head feels heavy like a bowling ball. I can’t be sure I’m thinking clearly.”
“Have you taken any meds at all?”
“No. I went right to bed when I got home from school and figured I could sleep it off.”
He pours bottled water into my cup and hands it to me. “Here. Take these and you’ll feel better once we get this fever down.” He places three pills in my palm. “I’ll be right back.” He rises from the bed and my gaze remains on him until he disappears through my doorway.
I can’t believe he’s here. Why is he here? Did Perri ask him to come over? God, I hope not.
I want him to be here because he wants to be and not because she wants him to be. Oh, hell. Even my thoughts are a rambling mess. This happens to me every time I get a fever. My brain turns to mush and I can’t think clearly.
I take each of the pills he gave me and run a hand over my tousled hair. I do the best I can to smooth the thick waves, but I know I must look as horrible as I feel. Tipping my head from side to side, I grimace. Even my neck is stiff.
“Are you okay?” Owen walks in with a bowl of something that’s steaming in his hands.
“Yeah, I’m just sore all over.”
“I made you chicken soup.” Carefully lowering to the mattress, he balances the bowl on his leg. “After you eat this, I think you should take a bath and then we can watch a movie.”
“You’re staying?” I’m too tired to hide my surprise.
“I am. Do you mind? Would you rather be alone?”
“No. I want you here.”
He winks. “Good, because I wasn’t planning on leaving.” He dips a spoon into the soup and blows on the liquid before feeding it to me.
My lips close around the metal and the taste has me moaning, “Mm, that’s good.”
“My grandmother used to feed me chicken noodle soup when I’d get sick. She swore it had healing qualities. I think it just tastes good, but I know better than to argue with her.”
“Sounds like you guys are close.”
He spoons more into my mouth. “We are. My mother passed away when I was ten and Josh and I moved in with my grandmother.”
“What about your other brother?”
“Jam is the oldest. He was eighteen when she passed. He didn’t want to live with my grandmother.”
“And your dad?”
Owen slowly drags his bottom lip between his teeth as if he’s worried about sharing something with me. His eyes connect with mine and seconds go by before he ends his silence.
“My dad and Jam are members of a motorcycle club. Everything they do revolves around their brothers and what’s best for the club. They work for the club, live near the club, and pretty much breathe club life. Josh and I want nothing to do with that lifestyle, so we don’t see either of them as much as we’d like.”
“When you say motorcycle club, do you mean a gang?”
“Yep, an outlaw biker gang to be exact.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” He quirks a brow. “That’s all you have to say about it?”
“As long as you’re not a member I don’t see why I should be concerned.”
“I was worried you might not want to spend time with me once you found out.”
“Do I seem that uptight?”
“No, but most people don’t understand and assume the worst about me rather than the truth. You’ve got your head screwed on right and I know you’re not one to risk anything that would derail your plans. You’re focused and mature and not afraid to go after what you want. I admire your drive.”
