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

Chapter Seven

Yardley

J ohnnie was more relaxed than I expected he might be.

Maybe I wasn’t giving him enough credit.

Perhaps because I was the one who was nervous. With Johnnie’s reputation as a ladies’ man, along with pro athletes and their loose tongues—I was thinking vulgarity in particular—I expected a bit more of a shitshow.

Instead, he was well-mannered. He paid plenty of attention to Kenji and Kolson, while ensuring Roland and Meyer weren’t left out, even though their chosen sports weren’t rugby.

Reuben surveyed his kids with papa pride while Jamilla fussed a little more than usual.

After a delicious dinner, Johnnie and I cleared the table—after a battle with the Smith family. My sister ran a tight ship, and everyone was expected to help. Still, Kolson and Kenji heated the brownies and added the vanilla ice cream with varying degrees of success.

Whatever. It all went down the same way, and when Johnnie moaned his pleasure, my cock sat up and paid attention.

Damn thing.

I would’ve run Kenji home, but his mom came to pick him up after her shift at the hospital, which wasn’t far away.

She worked as a dietician and although she made a decent salary, Vancouver was damn expensive—especially for a single mom with two growing boys.

Which explained why she lived in Strathcona and still struggled.

After waving Kenji and his mom off, Johnnie and I said our goodbyes to the Smiths and headed to our respective vehicles.

The night air was crisp, and although we had a full moon, the meteorologist promised rain for the next few days—including for his game Friday night.

“I have something for you.” He gave me his wicked grin.

“Oh?” I tried to effectuate disinterest, but the truth was, he intrigued me more and more. Gone was my assumption he was all fluff and no substance. The clinic last night and dinner tonight had solidified that he could, given the right circumstances, be an upright-and-serious guy.

He handed me a ticket. “Next time I’ll get some for your entire family. I’ve just got one for Friday’s game.”

“That’s, uh…” I considered. “Are there still tickets for the game?”

“Yeah, pretty sure.”

“Then I’ll arrange for tickets for anyone in that insane household who wants to go. And if Kolson wants to invite Kenji, I’ll see if Jamilla can buy the ticket.”

“Because he’s your student?”

“Right. I can’t give him a gift or show favoritism.

But if Jamilla takes him under her wing, as she clearly wants to do, then that would be okay.

I just have to make certain she doesn’t go overboard.

We didn’t have a lot of money growing up.

Now she’s making big bucks, she wants to give back in every way she can.

I have to make certain she doesn’t see Kenji as a project . ”

“Good thinking. I can certainly keep an eye on them. Truthfully? They’re talented.

Almost as much as Greta, Sophie, and Hope.

I can see those three competing for spots on the national team when they’re old enough.

” His expression sobered. “Thank you for letting me come to spend time with them. To enable me to get back to my roots.”

“Uh, well, Louella agreed.”

“You know she and Makwa are on a date tonight, right?”

My jaw dropped. “No, she did not mention that.”

“Oops? I didn’t mean to step in it.”

“Louella’s a widow. Her husband died in a bad wreck on the highway about a year back. She puts on a brave face, but she’s been grieving.” But she had, after Johnnie’s visit last week, stopped wearing her wedding ring.

“I didn’t know that. Do you suppose she’s told Makwa? Should I tell him?”

If I asked him to, then Johnnie would. But… “She’s a grown woman who can make her own decisions. Makwa’s about as much of a player as you are.”

Slowly, he nodded. “We’re both monogamous, though. Neither of us have cheated on a partner. I’ll…have a chat with him.”

I felt badly about interfering, but I really didn’t want Louella to get hurt. “I’d appreciate that.”

“And I’ll ask him to keep the two of us out of it.”

“I’d be even more grateful for that.”

“In exchange for that, I’d like to ask you something.”

Oh dear. I couldn’t even imagine what this guy might come up with. “Yes?” That came out with a croak. I cleared my throat. “Sure, anything.”

“You might regret that.”

“I would say that’s a guarantee, but go ahead.”

“This is a personal question.”

“About me being gay?”

“How did you know?”

“You just have this particular look on your face. Go on, ask the question. It's about me teaching young boys, right?” I’d been waiting for this conversation—it happened frequently.

“No. Not like you think.” He shifted from foot to foot. “I don't mean I think there's anything wrong with you teaching kids—but I was wondering how the parents are with you?”

“Yeah—I get some comments, but it's mostly okay. I’m careful not to show too much attention to anyone’s kid.

To not be alone with them. But that’s stuff every teacher does—whether they’re gay or not.

Accusations are a serious thing. Usually there’s some valid reason for them…

but sometimes not.” I paused. “It was better when I could say I was married.

But I got divorced last year, and I'm now atrociously single. Some parents think this means I must be looking at their sixteen-year-olds.”

Johnnie laughed. “As if.”

“Right. Why look at pimply sixteen-year-olds when I can look at rugged-and-handsome rugby players?”

“Yeah, right.” He laughed, but it felt a little forced.

“Don’t worry. I know you're dating that model. Carly? I looked you up.”

“You did?” He appeared surprised.

Have we not already had this conversation? Maybe he forgot. Maybe it didn’t mean as much to him as it meant to me.

“Absolutely. I needed to make sure you weren't going to hit on my pimply sixteen-year-old students.”

“Yeah. Don't believe everything you see on social media.” Another laugh, this one a touch more genuine.

“You mean you're not dating her?” What’s he trying to say? That his feed isn’t a reflection of him?

“I am. Sort of. Maybe. I'll let you know in a week.” He tipped his chin up, almost as if daring me to question him further.

Which I wasn’t going to do. “A week? You're planning on talking to me in a week? I don't understand.”

“Me neither.” He gave me a jaunty wave. “So, see you around.” He slid into his car, started the engine, then rolled down the window.

All as I continued to stand there, still a little confused.

“Hey!”

“Yeah?”

“You were on my Insta? So you liked that picture of me beside the pool?”

Oh yeah. I remember that one. I laughed. “Of course. Spent a long time staring at it. Would've been better if you’d dropped the towel.”

He winked, then drove away.

What the fuck was that all about? If he was gay, I might’ve thought we were flirting. But he was straight, dating Carly, and had no interest in me in that way.

I slid into my SUV and made my way along 41 st Avenue until I was back in my neighborhood.

As I pulled into my driveway, I sighed. I own this house.

I’m better off without fucking Nicholas and his cheating ass.

Yes, I wasn’t living in luxury anymore—comparing Jamilla’s house to mine put that into sharp focus.

But we were both doing better than our father ever had. We had homes, jobs, and…

Yeah.

Jamilla had the family I always wanted.

I sighed, grabbed my laptop case from where I’d hidden it under my front seat, and headed inside.

Instead of sitting down to work—report cards were due soon—I showered, crawled into bed, and grabbed my phone.

Of course, I headed right to Instagram.

Johnnie’s profile, no less.

Because compulsions were a thing.

I’m just making certain there isn’t anything untoward. He’s mentoring Kolson and Kenji…I need to be careful. Oh, he’s posted a new photo.

I squinted.

A picture of a white towel carelessly dropped on the tiles.

Going swimming...

Well, shit.