Reese
While I’d admit I had a dream earlier this week that involved Laird and being tied up at his mercy, I didn’t expect to wind up blindfolded in the back of his car on Friday night.
The Countdown had officially begun.
It sounded easy enough. The remaining NADs were paired off, blindfolded, and driven around for however fucking long the vet behind the wheel decided to drive. Then, each twosome was dropped off at a different unknown location, somewhere within a five-mile radius of campus. If you didn’t make it back to the party at Bubba’s apartment and chug two cups of NAD juice before midnight, you were cut from the line, just like that.
Only six of us were left. Three groups. And, of course, Smith was the only one willing to be my partner.
Fuckers.
Marco and Laird were in the front seat of Laird’s Wrangler, arguing about practice times once school started Monday. Marco kept saying we only needed two a week, with the rest of the band, but Laird was pushing for a third, a drumline only one, on Wednesday nights.
The Jeep hit a pothole and I grabbed the door handle for balance.
“We can’t get sloppy this year, man,” Laird said. “It’s our last year.”
“Relax. We’re better than that. We’re not gonna fuck it up. We can always add in Wednesday practices later if we need it.”
I bit my lip at the blatant disrespect in Marco’s voice.
“We need it now,” Laird replied sharply. “We haven’t even narrowed down who’s earned field spots or started on the snare duel for the drum break.”
I couldn’t hear Marco’s reply over my own swift intake of breath, when the Jeep swerved suddenly to the left and I fell partially against Smith next to me.
He gave my hand a quick squeeze. “You okay?” His murmur was pitched soft enough not to be overheard.
“Yeah.” I braced my foot against the bottom of the seat in front of me, trying to stabilize myself a little better. “Pretty sure we just went off road.”
Marco snickered. “I take back my earlier comment about girls being dumb.”
I mumbled under my breath.
The rock music that had been blaring in the background suddenly went quiet. “Did you just say scrotum breath?”
I coughed to cover my laugh, and then lost the battle when I heard Smith choking up next to me.
“Scrotum breath?” Marco asked again. “Are you sucking Smith’s balls or something back there? Or is he sucking yours?”
Laird growled and slammed on the brakes before I could reply. The seatbelt cut into me hard, ending my laughter with a hard grunt. “We’re here.”
The sound of rustling filled the Jeep. I waited, listening as I heard Laird and Marco opening their doors and getting out. A gust of wind ruffled my hair as my door was opened, some of the dark strands landing in my mouth. I felt someone close to me and held my breath.
Gentle fingers traced the curve of my cheek, dislodging the hairs stuck to my lip balm. Laird. Marco wouldn’t have cared or noticed. He leaned over me, his arm brushing across my breasts as he unsnapped my seatbelt. Warm breath fanned my ear, his lips teasing the sensitive skin around the shell, and he murmured quietly, “I’ve missed you.”
Now was not the time or the place to discuss it, so I nodded for lack of a better response, but my traitorous nipples didn’t get the memo and hardened beneath my shirt. I sent up a silent prayer that Marco wasn’t watching.
The blindfold around me loosened, then fell in my lap. I blinked at the sudden brightness. Even though it was after dinner, the sun wouldn’t set for another hour or so.
Laird blocked my exit from the Jeep, his broad shoulders filling the door frame. I twisted in the seat, nudging his hip with my knee to signal him to get out of my way. Behind me, I could hear Smith exiting, the Jeep shifting with the movement, and then Smith talking shit about where we might be while Marco dodged his questions.
“Move,” I whispered.
His eyebrows dipped and his hand dropped to my knee and squeezed. “Look, maybe this isn’t a good idea. You don’t have to do this.”
My eyes flashed to his in surprise. “What do you mean?” Did he mean us—if there was an us—or the Countdown?
“You’re not from here. I don’t want you guys getting lost and …” He lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck as his voice trailed off.
I nudged him again. “Are you worried about me, Laird?”
His hesitation was answer enough.
“No special treatment,” I reminded him. “And, seriously, how hard can this be? We do five miles at practice regularly.”
“Yeah. It’s five miles maximum if you go in the right direction on your first try.”
“She wimping out? What’s taking so long?” Marco’s taunt interrupted our conversation.
Laird stepped back, and I climbed out of the Jeep. “Nah. You’d miss me too much if I wasn’t around.” I kept my voice light.
Before I could round the corner of the vehicle, Laird’s hand snaked out and hooked the back pocket of my denim shorts, stopping me. Using just his fingertips, he turned my hips partially to the left. His touch seared me right through to the skin. “Start that way.” His words were barely audible, but I heard him.
Whipping around, I glared at him. “Stop it. I can do this.”
He still looked troubled as he nodded at me, then glanced at his phone. “You two have about an hour and twenty minutes of light left. If you haven’t found campus by then, you fucking call me.” He muttered the words against my temple.
“That’s against the rules.” We weren’t allowed to have electronics for this, because it was too easy to cheat with GPS. Your vet was supposed to hold onto your phone until you made it to the party. Except, when he blindfolded me earlier, Laird had refused to take mine, and had instead tucked it in the back waistband of my shorts when no one was watching, where it was hidden by the hem of my loose tank top.
Internally, I was conflicted. On one hand, his concern was sweet. On the other, I wanted him to have a little more faith in me that I could handle this on my own.
We had a stare-off until Marco and Smith joined us on our side of the Jeep. He looked away first.
Marco eyed the two of us suspiciously, while Smith gave me a shit-eating grin. “Problem here?” Marco asked.
“Just wondering what’s taking so long for y’all to leave,” I answered flippantly. “We have a party to get to, don’t we?”
“Fucking hell,” Laird muttered.
“We’ll see you suckers later. If you make it.” Marco punched Smith on the shoulder and wrinkled his nose at me before shouldering past us and climbing back into the Jeep. He pounded on the roof. “C’mon, Laird. It’s time to get our drink on while these two wander around like lost sheep. I’m thirsty.”
Smith flicked his eyes at me, and dropped to one knee to re-tie his already perfectly tied shoe, giving me a minute with Laird.
He lifted his hand like he was going to reach for me again, but I stepped back. “I’ll see you soon. Have a cold beer ready for me.”
With a final searching look, those full lips of his pressed tightly together, he stepped back. “Yes. I will see you soon. Because you’re my fucking NAD and you will not disappoint me.” And then he winked before he disappeared inside the Jeep.
“That’s more like it,” I muttered, and Smith snorted.
We watched in silence as they drove off, the Jeep bouncing over the overgrown grass down a barely visible path to a black swath of road about five hundred feet away.
We each had a water bottle, and I had my contraband phone, but other than that, we had nothing to help us on our way.
“Do you know where we are?” I ventured, looking around. I wasn’t sure if I should mention my phone or not.
“Yup. I know exactly where we are.”
“Really?” My voice was bright with surprise. This area looked vaguely familiar. Did I pass it on the way to the hospital?
The Jeep had turned right onto the road as it disappeared from view. Smith pointed left instead. “Campus is about four miles down that way.” The same direction Laird had pointed my hips. I started walking, but Smith grabbed my elbow and stopped me. “Or it’s two miles around that lake over there if we keep going down this path.”
I looked behind us, where he was pointing. “For real? That’s so much shorter.”
“Considering they went right and must be taking the long way back to campus, if we hustled, we could probably even beat them. But what’s the fun in that?” He started toward the lake at an easy pace, and I fell into step alongside him, matching my stride to his out of habit. “Know what else we pass between this lake and Bubba’s house?”
“What?” I watched my feet so I wouldn’t trip over any loose rocks.
“Pizza. We have plenty of time. Want to stop for a slice, Batman?”
I pretended to consider it. “Only because I don’t want you wasting away, Robin.” I patted his perfectly flat stomach. “You’re looking skinny these days.”
He tugged up his shirt, flexing his abs. “Girl, you don’t need to come up with an excuse to touch me. Just ask and I’m happy to let you cop a feel. Especially if I get to return the favor.”
“I don’t think you watched the same Batman and Robin I did growing up.” I rolled my eyes.
He laughed. “A pair of grown-ass men in tights who hung out in a cave together? I think the general public is avoiding making some very obvious conclusions about the two of them.”
My eyes got big as I thought about his words. “But what about Catwoman?”
Smith slung his arm around my shoulder. “A hot woman in latex to join in the fun? I’m telling you, Batman is absolutely my kind of hero. He didn’t even try to hide his kinky side.”
We dissolved into laughter and spent the rest of the hike speculating about the sex lives of various superheroes while sucking on a pair of grape lollipops Smith had brought along.
An hour later, we were settled at Antonio’s with a giant cheese pizza propped between us, and the sun was saying its colorful goodbye.
I took a long drink of my Cherry Coke Zero before pulling a hot, melty slice onto my plate, the mozzarella cheese stretching and drooping as it tried to hold itself together. “Oh hey,” I started. “I meant to ask you the other day, whose dorm room do you have to clean? Since I got Marco, did you get Laird?”
Smith took a huge bite of his own slice and looked at me quizzically. “What do you mean? I don’t even clean my own dorm room.”
“You mean one of the vets doesn’t have you…” I trailed off, nibbling on the tip of my slice while I thought it over. Fucking Marco. He made that shit up about NADs cleaning the vets’ rooms. I’d bet money on it. I took another bite absently. I could complain. Pitch a fit about how it wasn’t fair and refuse to do it. But that’s what he wanted. Technically, a NAD had to do what a vet asked. The fact that I was the only NAD being asked was beside the point, I was sure.
Smith tipped his head. “You’re cleaning Marco’s room? How’d he get you to do that?”
“He told me I had to. But you know what, it’s fine. If that’s the worst thing he can think of to do to me, I can handle some housework.”
Smith chewed thoughtfully. “I wonder if it’s a gender role thing. If he’s trying to put you in your place symbolically. Like, you know, traditional-ass shit where the woman cleans the house and the man goes to work.”
I laughed so hard soda dribbled down my chin, and I pressed a handful of napkins to my mouth to mop up the stray drops. “Jesus, Smith. You give him too much credit. You think Marco thinks symbolically? Seriously? Are we talking about the same guy?”
He shook his head. “You’re right. My bad. More likely he’s just lazy and saw an easy way to con you into doing it. You gonna stop now?”
“I’ll handle it. No worries. But for real, what’s his deal? Is it just me? Or does he have something against women in general—when he’s not trying to fuck them?”
Smith leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “Back in high school, Laird and Marco were a big deal. They ran in the same circle of popular kids. You know, the ones who won Best Looking and Prom King and that kind of shit. But Laird always made it look easy. People just liked him. With Marco, I don’t know quite how to explain it, but he always seemed to try a little too hard or fell a little short. He’s been in Laird’s shadow forever in that sense. Laird was first chair and snare captain back then too, and Marco was second.”
I finished my first slice and took a second. “Right, okay. But plenty of kids aren’t class president or homecoming queen and don’t end up being dickholes. There’s got to be more to it than that.”
“There were rumors back then. About Marco’s mom. That his dad used to hit her and that she tried to leave once, abandon the family. I have no idea if they were true or not, but I never saw her come to any of the football games.” Smith fiddled with the edge of his plate.
The pizza in my mouth lost its taste. “His dad beat his mom? Did his dad hit him too?”
Smith shrugged. “I mean, I never saw any marks on him that year. But who knows? His dad was a drunk asshole, so it wouldn’t shock me if he had.”
I couldn’t help thinking back to the day he tripped me and I fell on the curb. I wiped my fingers off on a brown paper napkin and pushed my plate away. “It sucks that he had a shitty childhood. But that doesn’t excuse his behavior.”
“No. It doesn’t. But if that’s the only way he’d seen a man and woman interact, it’s not surprising that he doesn’t know how to treat a woman.”
“Are you defending him?” I asked incredulously. Batman was about to fly solo. Who needed a sidekick?
“Not… defending him.” Smith drew out. “I’m just saying, especially here in the South, and for a guy who was always second best, I can see how a confident girl like you could bring out the worst in him.”
“Wait, so it’s my fault?” My fingers curled into fists on my thighs.
“No! I’m not even remotely saying that. He shouldn’t talk to you the way he does. But you have to admit that you go out of your way to push his buttons. You’re not exactly helping the situation.”
“You are defending him.” All I could do was stare at him incredulously.
Smith’s cheeks turned pink and he looked away.
“Oh my God. Do you like him?” My eyebrows nearly reached my hairline, and my voice rose an octave higher than usual.
“I don’t like him. I don’t like the way he treats you or the way he acts sometimes. But do I think he’s kinda hot when he gets all worked up and starts strutting around? I know you’re blinded by Laird, but have you seen the abs on Marco?”
Now it was my turn to blush at the mention of Laird. “But still… of all people? Marco? Scrotum Breath?”
Smith scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’ve always had a weakness for the bad boys, okay? I don’t want to date him or anything. I’m just saying if he got really drunk one night and wanted to experiment—or offered me a private practice session—I wouldn’t say no. He’s an asshole, but he’s a sexy asshole.” He took a long drink. “And Laird isn’t the only one I got an eyeful of in the bathroom the other day. Let me just say, Marco has got some girth.”
I shrieked. “I did not want to know that!”
“But now you do.” He smirked without remorse.
I threw a wadded-up napkin at him. “I’m not going to be able to look him in the eye now.”
“Perfect. He’ll love that. He’ll think you’re subservient. Less drama for all of us.”
We both laughed at the likelihood of that ever happening.
And then we lost track of time as the conversation shifted to classes starting on Monday and roommates moving in tomorrow. Somewhere along the way, we ate the rest of the pizza. When the waitress brought the check, I noticed the timestamp on the top and gasped. “Smith! It’s 11:30! We only have half an hour left to find Bubba’s and get our drink on.”
Smith scooted his chair back in alarm and stood to leave. “Holy shit, Batman. Ready to fly?”