The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs, #2)(70)

Troy



Troy: You look beautiful this morning, Ms. A. Did you do something new to your hair?



Clarissa’s phone buzzes on the table, her smile growing while she reads my message. Our eyes meet over Dante’s head as he finishes his cereal.



Clarissa: It’s called afterglow. Something new was done to me. I had a very wicked man sneak into my bedroom last night to have his way with me.

Troy: That so?

Clarissa: Oh, it’s so. He must have borrowed my house key from his son. If he keeps it up, he might earn his own key. He’s got a very persuasive tongue.



“Troy,” Dante grips my face with his hands. “Are you listening?”

“Sorry, bud. What were you saying?”

“I said that Carly wants me to be her boyfriend.”

This has Clarissa snapping her head up. “What?”

“I told her no. But I didn’t tell her cause she was ugly. Don’t worry, Mommy.”

“So, you don’t like her?” I ask as he slurps the almond milk from the side of his bowl like I taught him. A trick his mother isn’t fond of.

“No way. She’s always putting heart stickers on my hand. Gross.”

“Be nice to her,” Clarissa warns. “One day, you might think differently about her.”

“I’m not marrying anyone,” Dante says with the shake of his head. “Ever. Never.”

I chuckle. “The right girl will change your mind one day,” I say as Clarissa grins at me. “And drive you crazy.” Her smile morphs into a scowl. “But in a good way.”



Troy: We need a date.

Clarissa: Our sitter just left for India for three weeks.



Just as I’m about to type my reply, a notification pops up in my email, and I tense.

“Troy! Did you hear me!?”

I look over to Clarissa, and immediately, she sees it.

“Dante, go, go get dressed. Your clothes are on your bed.”

Clarissa’s already standing next to me as I scan the email.

“Is that it? Did you get the invite to the Combine?”

“I’m in,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m in.”

She leans down and wraps her arms around me. “Troy, this is awesome.”

She glances toward the hallway and turns back to me, stealing a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“I can’t believe you’re shocked. You had to know.”

I can’t help my smile. “Holy shit. I’m going.” She runs her hands through my hair.

“I know just how to celebrate. Dinner tonight and after…” She waggles her brows.

“Sounds perfect,” I say before glancing up at her, some of the high I’m feeling dispersing. “But we need to talk.”

“About?” She asks, alarm covering her face. Since Christmas, we’ve spent every spare moment together through the New Year. I’ve taken advantage of her couch when Theo texts to let me know he needs the house. Things are getting serious for him and his girlfriend, and he’s made it abundantly clear he wants me nowhere near that.

Lance has been a fucking wreck up until he left to go back to his family’s ranch for winter break. Harper broke up with him a few games before the season ended. Despite our budding friendship, he refuses to tell me what happened, but I have my suspicions.

No one, not even Theo, suspects a damn thing about the fact that my truck’s always parked next door while my bedroom is unoccupied. Everyone a house over is too wrapped up in their own lives, all of us moving in different directions once we snatch our diplomas. And I’m about to find myself moving away from the only place in years that’s felt like home.

Clarissa takes the chair next to me. “Okay, you’re making me nervous. I don’t think I can wait until dinner.”

I grab her hand and kiss the back of it before threading our fingers.

“I didn’t bring it up before because I wasn’t sure…”

“Tell me.”

“There’s this camp—”

“I’m ready,” Dante says, racing into the room with his backpack.

“You forgot your folder,” Clarissa says, glancing inside.

“Oh, duh,” he freezes, darting his eyes at Clarissa, “duh, do, da, le, do,” Dante sing songs with a giggle, and we can’t help our laugh.

“Good save, baby,” she says, shaking her head.

She squeezes my hand as soon as he’s out of earshot.

“Okay, so there’s a camp?”

“Yeah. It’s a prep camp for the Combine. And it’s expensive. Like really fucking expensive. I reserved a spot months ago in the off chance I’d be invited, but if I go—” I run a hand down my face.

“You wouldn’t be able to help out for a while.”

I nod. “It would be like taking out a student loan I may never be able to pay back.”

“That expensive?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so do it. Bet on yourself. I am.”

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” I whisper.

“How long will you be gone?”