You and Everything After (Falling #2)(67)
“I don’t know, man. I don’t think I can fix this.” Nate is wallowing. I have two choices: push him into a drunken stupor, or give him hope. His girl lives with my girl. I’m man enough to admit that plays into my decision.
“Of course you can fix this.” Here comes Captain Positive. I suck at this too, a symptom of my tell-it-like-it-is quality. But for Nate, I can spin hope. And I think it’s there. Rowe’s in love with my brother, and this won’t be more than a blip.
“Dude, I’m supposed to meet her parents this weekend. They’re coming to my tournament. She’s going to introduce me as her *-neighbor down the hall, who sold her out in front of his ex…because he’s too weenie to admit he’s in love with her,” he says, his own admission hitting him all at once.
And there you have it. The Preeter brothers—in love, and too big of pussies to do anything about it.
“While I agree that yes, she should introduce you that way, you know that’s not going to happen. You were an idiot, a colossal idiot. Like, bonehead idiot champion of the universe,” I say.
“Got it. Move on,” he says.
“That girl loves your ass anyway,” I say, and he sighs once, eyes staring into the half full glass of beer. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?” he asks.
“You won’t let this relationship-shit f*ck up baseball.” He laughs, nods once, and tilts his glass back letting the rest of his draft slide down his throat. “I’m serious, man. You know I don’t like shit f*ckin’ up baseball.”
“Oh, I know,” he says through a chuckle, standing up and tossing down twenty bucks before heading to the back for the men’s room.
“Cass would never f*ck up baseball,” I think to myself, then I toast to no one and take a long chug to catch up with Nate. I drop my twenty on the table and wait for him at the door.
Things seem to have worked out for Nate. I knew they would. And he didn’t play like shit in his tournament, despite all of the drama-rama. Rowe did have some dude come to the game with her, pretty much hitting on her in front of my brother. That shit wasn’t cool, but Cass said I didn’t know the whole story, or whatever. All I know is if Cass brings some guy to tag along with us somewhere, I’m going to knock his teeth out—and I don’t care what his story is.
Cass has had a full week of practice. Her body is holding up to the pressure. I know it’s a concern for her, making sure she gets rest, stays cool. I made her take an Epsom salt bath in the physical therapy room on Friday. She hated it, but it’s good for her muscles and nerves. Overheating isn’t good for MS, and extreme cold isn’t great either. Salt seems to be good for just about anything. I’ve been researching it as much as I can, because I want to help her, to be there to push back when MS tries to knock her down.
She’s dodging calls from her parents. At first, it was really upsetting her, but now it’s almost routine the way she just clicks END on the phone when she sees their names pop up. Thankfully, Paige doesn’t seem to be bullying her about it. Cass says Paige is always on her mom’s side, but I don’t know. I think Paige might be in Cass’s corner more than she realizes. Paige sure as hell let me know where she stood.
Cass has been out with the girls all day—Halloween shopping. I love this holiday. When I was a kid, I liked that I got free candy. When I was a teenage boy, I liked that teenaged girls dressed up in slutty costumes. And now that I’m twenty-two…? I like that college chicks dress up in slutty costumes.
“So, do I get to see?” I ask Cass, pulling the bag on her arm, trying to get a peek at her costume. I only get a glimpse before she jerks the bag away. I can see the skirt—red and white stripes. She’s either a hot nurse or a cheerleader. I’m good with either.
“No, I want to surprise you,” she says, her cheeks a little red when she smiles. It’s cute when she’s sexy like this. “What are you wearing?”
I laugh once at her question before I answer. “Like you don’t know,” I say. Yesterday, I got a ransom note in my mailbox. It was a picture of a teddy bear—more specifically my teddy bear. I’ve had Cookie since as long as I can remember. Honestly, I think he means more to Mom than me, but I like that he means that much to her. So, I keep him in my box of crap that I haul around with me—he’s in there with a few trophies, yearbooks, homecoming pictures, and I think maybe my kindergarten report card.
Anyhow, the note with the picture said that if I ever wanted to see Cookie again, I better wear a tutu at the Halloween party. It’s not so much about Cookie as it is about someone thinking they have something on me—so yeah, I’m going to wear the tutu. I’m going to f*cking own that tutu—and the silver sparkly Speedo-style thong I’m wearing underneath.
“What does that mean?” Cass asks, and I try to size up the look on her face. Yeah, she’s in on this. She’s totally in on this.
“You know what that means,” I say, and she rolls her eyes at me. Yeah. She’s in on it. I can’t wait for her to see the tutu.
Cass
Rowe filled me in on the Cookie thing after the boys left. I guess Ty’s been picking on Nate, so to get back at him, Rowe kidnapped his teddy bear and is holding it ransom. My boyfriend has a teddy bear…named Cookie. Yep.