The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs, #2)(71)

This is the part I dread most. “Six weeks. And I would need to leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I wasn’t about to spend the money without the invite, but if I want in, I have to report within the next few days to keep my spot, and it’s a long drive.”

“What about school?”

“I’ll miss a little, but I’ll make it up.”

“You have to go,” she whispers.

“I know. I have to do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes.”

She nods. “You’ve got this.”

I can tell she’s being strong for me, but what we have is new, and I don’t want to gamble with it.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She repeats my words back to me, seeing the apprehension in my face. In this second, I’d move mountains just to fucking pull her to me and kiss her fears away. The secrets we’re hiding from our son are piling up, but I can’t in good judgment say the timing is right. Just as the thought drifts through my head to broach the subject of when, Dante busts us.

“Mommy? Why are you holding Troy’s hand?”

Clarissa squeezes it and lets go. “Because Troy just got really good news. He’s going to camp.”

“Clarissa,” I say softly.

“You’re going. We’ll make it work,” she whispers, “we will.” I want so bad to hold her and hate the fact I can’t.

“What camp?”

“Football camp.”

“For how long?”

“I would leave tomorrow, bud, and I won’t be back for a long time.”

“How many sleeps?”

“Forty-four.”

“Yeah, no,” he shakes his head as if it’s final. “No, you don’t need to go. You’re already good at football. They can have camp without you.”

Clarissa speaks up, saving me once again. “Dante, he needs to go so he can get into shape.”

Dante frowns. “You’re already strong. You can lift me over your head!”

“They’ll make me stronger, bud. Faster.”

“How much stronger?”

“Like the Hulk,” I say, tossing him up and carrying him toward the door at my side. His whines bouncing out with each of my steps. “But, who, will, play, Xbox, with, me?”

“Theo will.”

“I don’t want Theo.”

“I’ll call you every day.”

“I can come see you. Right, Mommy? We’ll go too?”

“No, baby, we can’t come to this camp,” she says, locking up the house and taking the key off the chain before handing it to me. I glance down to where it sits in my palm and close it in my fist. She leans in with a whisper. “So you don’t forget where home is.”

She ushers Dante down the steps. “Come on, we can’t be late for school.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as we make our way to her SUV.

“No way, this is happening,” she gives me a serene smile, and I see all her strength in it. “And you need to be smiling about it right now. We’ve got your back. See you tonight?”

“Tonight,” I say, walking down the steps before shooting off a text.



Troy: I’m kissing the hell out of you right now.





Amy’s Sausage Snack Wraps

Chiropractor, Chicago IL



Makes 48 snacks





30 minutes


2 8 Ounce Cans Pillsbury Refrigerated Crescent Dinner Rolls





48 Cocktail-Sized Smoked Link Sausages


Unroll both cans of dough and separate into 16 triangles. Cut each triangle lengthwise into thirds. Place sausage on shortest side of each triangle. Starting at shortest side, roll up to opposite point. Place on ungreased cookie sheet.



Bake at 375 degrees for 12 to 15 minutes or until golden brown.



Serve warm. If desired, serve with ketchup or mustard.





Clarissa



It’s been less than two days since Troy packed up his truck, and I’ve been walking in a nightmare. Work has been a living hell, hormones, and testosterone flying at me from all sides. I drove through a construction site this morning and got two flat tires, started my period, and was alerted to that fact by one of my students. That was just from seven to lunch. Dante had a rare meltdown in the grocery store after I picked him up, and we’ve been fighting ever since.

All I want is a bath and a little FaceTime with Troy.

Walking my laundry into my bedroom, I glance over at my vanity, picturing Troy behind me, his eyes lit with lust as his lips cover my skin. That fantasy gets me through as I fold a week’s worth of laundry. They say love is a drug, and while I’ve had an inkling of it, I’m positive I’ve never been so doped up on endorphins in my life. I’ve never felt a rush the way I do when he touches me. His voice alone sets me off. Just the rumble of his laugh activates me. His smile, the way his eyes light up when he walks through my door.

I can see the appeal of the overload, but this high is natural. This high I’ll allow myself.

I already miss him. Forty-two sleeps to go.

My phone lights up with the number of Brett’s office, and I hesitate but decide to answer.