Page 11 of Big Rucking Disaster (Rucked by You #8)

Chapter Ten

Johnnie

S tupid.

I wasn’t supposed to call myself stupid. If I caught any of my teammates referring to themselves as stupid, I would’ve knocked them upside the head.

But stupid was the only word I could come up with.

I’d hurt Yardley. I hadn’t intended to do that…but I had.

Just…he so clearly wanted kids. My heart had broken for him. Much as it did every time I studied the ultrasound of my daughter, taken just a couple of weeks before she died.

I tucked the envelope back at the bottom of the junk drawer, then tossed my jacket on the couch.

Then picked it up, took it to the closet, and hung it up.

My fingers itched to check my phone, but I’d promised both Roger and Yardley that I wouldn’t until morning.

I didn’t need my phone. Nothing was ever critical. No one ever needed me. I was just the guy to grab a drink or chum around with. For important stuff, we all turned to Roger. As elder statesman, and father of five, he knew how to keep everyone in line and what needed to be done in a crisis.

Unlike me, who could barely remember to make certain my socks matched.

Because, frankly, who gave a shit if they didn’t?

Clearly not me.

But if my kid’s socks were mismatched? I’d worry people thought I wasn’t a good dad. And I wanted to be the best dad ever.

Since that was never going to happen, and being proud I’d lasted six minutes without my phone, I snagged it from my back pocket and powered it up.

Yeah, it exploded with notifications.

Swiping to literally delete them all, I searched for my address book. I found Yardley’s number and hit call.

Shit. He’s driving, you fuckwit.

He’d dropped me off seven minutes ago.

“Are you okay?” His voice came through the line, a little muffled. “Did you check your notifications?”

“I did not.” I puffed my chest out, even though he couldn’t see. “Are you driving?”

“Hands free. Through the speaker system in the SUV. I’m at a red light on Québec Street.”

“That can be dangerous.”

“I’ve passed Science World. I’m at East 5th.”

“Oh.” He’d made it out of the craziest part of the downtown. “Well, okay, then.”

“Why did you call me, Johnnie? Because it’s only been five minutes—”

“Nine minutes,” I corrected him. “Maybe even a bit longer…?”

A long pause.

“I didn’t think you’d had that much to drink.” A wry tone.

“Wouldn’t I be having a more difficult time telling time if I’d had more to drink?

” That sentence made way more sense in my head than when I spoke it aloud.

I wasn’t anywhere near drunk. Not with just two whiskies and a plate of shared nachos onboard.

After I’d made my insensitive comment, Yardley had flagged down a server, and we’d shared a plate of nachos—extra jalapenos and cheese.

Thank God he wasn’t wussy with spicy foods.

“Are you okay? That’s my question. Do you need me to turn around? I’m happy to do it, Johnnie. I’ll be there if you need me.”

I’ll be there if you need me.

That was something like what Isaiah said to people when they were hurting.

Those words never came easily to me.

“I’m okay.” I blew out a long breath. “I didn’t check my notifications. I literally deleted all of them.”

“Good for you.” He sounded genuinely enthusiastic about it. “Tomorrow you can get a summary from someone—”

“You?”

A pause. “Well, I was thinking someone who knows you better. Like Isaiah or Roger.”

“I don’t want to bother them. Shit, that sounds bad.” I pressed my hand to my forehead.

“How does it sound bad?” Vague amusement.

“That I don’t mind bothering you, but I don’t want to get them any more involved than they already are. You know what I mean?”

“I do.”

A siren wailed in the distance.

I moved toward my window, wondering if it might be outside, but I quickly realized the noise came from the phone. “Are you being pulled over?” My heart sped up. Driving while Black was a thing. What if Yardley got pulled over by some asshole, racist—

“Going the other way and passing me now.” He chuckled. “I’m a very boring driver who drives a very boring SUV who never speeds.”

Ah. So he’d read my mind. I hated that we even had to think about it, frankly.

“I’ll get the lay of the land and call you in the morning.”

“Right.”

“Are you going to be okay until then? I’m serious about turning around. I mean, you could always come and stay at my—”

“Really?”

“Sure.” He said the word slowly. “My place is very boring, Johnnie.”

“Yes, but it’s not here . It still feels like she’s you know, going to leap out of the closet or something.

” Perhaps an exaggeration, but the clutter she’d brought in here was in a box by the front door.

If I wasn’t environmentally oriented, I’d just haul the thing down to the dumpster and leave it there.

“I’m making a right on East 12th and I’ll loop back around. Be in the lobby of your condo in twelve minutes.”

“That’s weirdly specific.”

“I’m just looking at how long we’ve been conversing and counting backward. I can do math while driving, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, okay. Uh…thanks.”

“My pleasure. Fair warning—I’m a grump before my first cup of coffee.” He cut the line.

I made a beeline to my bedroom where I grabbed a duffel bag. Without overthinking things, I packed enough clothes for two nights. Because, fuck, I didn’t want to be here this weekend—especially if shit was raining down.

Eleven minutes later, I was down in the lobby.

Yardley pulled up.

I sprinted out and hopped into his front seat.

Once I had my seatbelt secured, he pulled back onto the street. “Do you need me to stop anywhere?”

“Like for what?” I wracked my brains.

“I have no idea—which is why I’m asking. There’s a 7-11 a few blocks from my house.”

“Well, I packed condoms. I always pack condoms.”

“Did you just…” He sputter-laughed. “I did not need to know that.”

“I’m very conscientious about protection. That’s important.”

“If you say so.” He hung a left back onto Hastings Street.

“I do say. You’re a gay man—how can you not be conscientious about protection?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t. But I’ll admit I don’t pack condoms with me all the time.

Actually, it's good you brought them because I don't think I have any in my house, and if you decide to bring a hookup back to my house, I'd like to think you're being safe.” Slowly, he drove through the intersection at Abbott Street.

Although people wandered up and down the street, no one stepped in front of us.

How many of these people are addicts? How can they fall that far?

How am I any different from them? I didn’t do hard drugs.

In the offseason I might do a hit of pot.

But no one here grew up saying I’m going to be a drug addict.

“Nothing to say?” Yardley chuckled. “I haven’t even asked if you’re on a hookup site.”

“I’ve barely booted Carly from my bed, and she’s in full revenge mode. You honestly think I’d just hop into bed with someone else?”

“Wouldn’t you? That’s your reputation.”

I would hop into your bed if you asked.

My brain screeched like a needle skidding across a record.

What the actual fuck? You’re not gay. You’ve never thought of a guy that way before.

True.

But I’ve been thinking of Yardley that way. Wondering what it would be like to be…with him.

I took a breath. “No, reputations aren’t always reality. I’m not going to have sex with someone a few hours after I broke up with the last person.”

“Glad to hear it.” He turned onto Québec Street. “I’m planning to crash—it’s been a long day.”

“Thank you for coming to my game.”

He cut me a look.

“Thank you for putting up with Carly.”

He snorted.

“Thank you for not making me be alone tonight.”

“You only had to ask, Johnnie.” He cocked his head. “Which you basically did, so here I am. Are you going to be okay?” He drove past Science World.

“I’m always okay.”

He sighed. “That’s a flippant answer. We both know when things didn’t work out with Anwa that you weren’t okay . You’ve been with Carly for a while. Breaking up has to have an impact.”

“Yeah…relief and joy. I was with her for six months. That was five months and twenty-nine days too long.” I angled my head, so it pressed back against the headrest. “I knew better. But it felt like everyone else was paired up, and I wasn’t, and I wanted what they had.”

“Was Makwa single?”

“Yep. And now he’s seeing Louella.” Shit. I probably wasn’t supposed to say anything. Especially to Yardley.

“Well, if it’s what Louella wants, I’m happy for them. Not a couple I would’ve seen coming in a million years.”

“What if I’d asked Louella out?”

He cut a sharp glance at me before returning his attention to the road. “You wanted to?”

“Nope. Lovely woman, truly, but not for me.”

“Who would be for you?” He stopped at the red light. Traffic whizzed across Broadway in both directions.

I drew in a sharp breath. “I don’t know.

I mean, does anyone ever know the true person they’re meant to be with before they meet them?

I mean…” I scratched my chin. “I want to say, personality. But that means I’d have to get to spend time with someone in a private setting, because who they are in front of other people might not be their true selves.

Or, hell, they might always hide who they really are.

They might be a manipulative person who is…

” I floundered. “I should’ve broken up with her months ago. ”

“No sense regretting what you did or didn’t do. You’re out and that’s that. Tomorrow we’ll deal with the fallout on social media.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is. Nothing’s unrepairable. Nothing’s impossible to work through and past.”

“Unforgiveable sins exist.”

He skirted from The Kingsway onto Fraser Street. “Sure. Like murder. Like intentionally hurting someone in some terrible way. But breaking up with someone doesn’t count, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Are we stopping?”

“No, thank you.”

“Because you’ve got condoms.” Said with a wry tone.

“Because I’ve got condoms.” Said with enthusiasm.

“God, you’re precious.”

As I chanced a glance at him, he grinned.

I might just be okay .