Page 9 of Big Rucking Disaster (Rucked by You #8)

Chapter Eight

Johnnie

“ H oly fuck, I can’t believe we got that over the line!” Roger pulled me into a massive hug.

Isaiah tackled me from behind.

Makwa tried to give me a high-five.

The crowd roared their approval. Somehow, despite being down from the get-go, we’d squeaked out a win over Calgary—by three points.

Their team appeared absolutely dejected. I couldn’t blame them—they’d come within one play of winning. Which would’ve broken their eight-game losing streak. Part of me felt sorry for them, the rest was elated.

“Johnnie, you’re the best baby!”

Isaiah coughed. “Was that best, baby or best baby?”

I squinted as we lined up to shake the opposing team’s hands. “Either sounds bad, don’t you think?”

“Is she sitting next to Yardley?”

I winced. “I hadn’t thought that through when I gave him the ticket. I should’ve swapped it. Or…” I cleared my throat.

“Or…?” Isaiah held my gaze.

“Break up with her…?”

“Is that a question or a statement? Only you can decide. You’ve been dating her for a long time. Aside from Anwa, this is the longest relationship you’ve had.”

Mention of my ex-girlfriend twisted my gut.

“Shit.” Isaiah winced as we headed to the locker room. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s true.” I tried to shrug it off.

He cocked his head.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” I yanked my shirt over my head. “I need to shower.”

“Because Carly’s waiting for you, or because Yardley is?”

I scowled. “Yardley’s sister, her entire family, and Kenji are out there. Yardley will leave with them.”

“Are you certain?”

“Of course.” But I wasn’t, so I hustled through my shower.

Then I donned my nice jeans, a henley that matched my eyes—or so Roger’s wife Becca assured me—and hustled my way to the meeting area.

Surprisingly, I was the first player there.

Possibly because after brushing my hair to get the tangles out, then putting it in a man bun in a heartbeat, and then busting my butt.

To find Carly and Yardley off to one side.

Talking.

Shit.

“Uh, hey.” I did a little wave.

Carly launched herself at me—wrapping her legs around my waist and placing a kiss to my lips.

I tried to respond. I did. Because she was my girlfriend, and I owed her that much.

As I thought about all the other women in my life—like Becca and now Jamilla—I couldn’t help thinking how vacuous Carly was.

I hadn’t seen it before. At least not in such stark contrast against the intelligent, caring, and kind man who stood off to the side, awkwardly watching the spectacle Carly initiated.

Gently, I untangled her from me and set her on the ground. “I need to say hi to my friend.”

She pouted, with her bright, shiny lips stuck out.

Her blonde hair hung loose around her face, and I remembered, for an instant—as I gazed into her luminous light-brown eyes—why I’d found her so attractive in the first place.

Should’ve looked beyond the surface…you might’ve seen the truth sooner. “He’s a good guy.”

“He’s boring.”

I winced. Yeah, not a good idea to have put them together. “He’s a teacher, Carly. That’s an important job.”

“I have an important job.”

Inwardly, I sighed. “Of course you do. Now, I’ll be five minutes.”

Her eyes flashed triumph that she’d won my clear attention over the boring guy.

I extricated myself and headed over to Yardley.

Some of the other guys joined the crowd, and I heard plenty of cheers.

I leaned in closer to Yardley. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’m a coach—I’ll always watch a game.” He held my gaze. “But that tackle—”

“My knee’s fine. Francine checked it out at halftime.” Because I’d injured it last year, and she was always worried about a recurrence.

Frankly, so was I. I didn’t want to think about injuring myself again and having to sit out more games.

“I’m relieved to hear that. Look, Jamilla, Reuben, and all the kids are headed to White Spot. Not exactly your speed…”

Because I either went home with Carly or went out with the guys for a drink.

At the moment, either the guys or Jamilla’s crew sounded far better than Carly—but I owed this to her.

“Another time, okay? I appreciate that you took care of the tickets for them tonight. Let me see if I can get some for the next game—it’s a big one, so we might be sold out. ”

“We can always watch from Jamilla’s media room.” He gestured to his slicker. “How she keeps her hair so perfect is beyond me.” He gazed over at Carly who stood apart, appearing truly annoyed.

That was unusual for her—usually she was in the middle of everyone, trying to ingratiate herself with my attractive teammates.

Vacuous .

In that moment, I hated myself.

I held out my hand. “Uh, thanks so much for coming.”

“Nice to see you again. I’ll give Jamilla your regrets.”

“You have no idea how much I wish I could go.”

He held me captive in the depths of his dark-brown eyes.

Wait…what? Why was I wanting to go home with him instead? Like…to a bed or something. I’m straight. Right? I think I would know if I wasn’t. And yet, the compulsion to caress his face and to apologize again came to me in a rush.

“We’ll see you another time.” He cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint Kenji and Kolson. They’ve started quite the bromance.”

“Fair enough.”

“Johnnie.” Carly wrapped herself around my side and whispered into my ear, “Take me home and fuck me.”

As had happened the last few times she’d done this, my cock didn’t respond like it used to. She apparently didn’t notice as she nipped my earlobe.

Yardley held my gaze for one more moment before sauntering away.

“Sure. Did you bring your car?”

“Nope. Took the bus. So we can go back to your place, and I’ll just have to stay the night.”

Nice try. You live on an all-night bus route, and I’m going to be driving you home anyway.

Three hours later, after an epic fight that did not lead to epic makeup sex, Carly stormed off and into a cab with a hundred bucks cash from me and a bag of all the stuff she’d accidentally left at my place.

It still took me an hour to de-Carly my apartment, small as it was. In the end, I had the place the cleanest it’d been since I moved in and a little box of knickknacks and other weird things she’d somehow infiltrated my home with, to go to the charity shop. Six months was a long time.

I opened my junk drawer and pulled out the photo envelope from the bottom.

Carly had never dug that far down, thank God. I didn’t think I could’ve explained it to her in a way she understood.

In a way I understood.

I sent a text.

Twenty minutes later, I sat in a booth at Jumpin’ Jacks across from Yardley. “Thanks for coming.”

He rubbed his face. “I’ll admit it’s pretty late, but that text had me getting dressed and heading here.”

“You were undressed? It’s Friday night.”

“Well, I had a long day. Remember, I’m up pretty damn early. We have archery practice Friday before school.”

“Archery?” I squinted. “Really?”

“I have a young woman in a wheelchair. She’s got real potential, so I started a club.

Most of the other kids are there to keep her company while she kicks ass.

I’ve arranged for her to work with a professional club, and I’m trying to find her a sponsor.

I’d love to see her at the Paralympics one day—she’s got the talent. ”

“Okay…wow.”

“Yeah, who’d have thought from the poorest school in the region?”

“Kenji might make it to our squad. Surely there’ve been other kids.”

“There have. Which is why I stay and work my ass off. Sometimes sports is a way out of poverty for these kids. A way to get post-secondary education.”

“Scholarships?”

“Yep. I encourage dreams whenever I can, and if the kid’s got grit, but no potential, I use their interest as a cudgel to get them to study harder.”

“Cudgel, eh?”

“Whatever works.” He eyed me. “But you didn’t text me to hear about archery students.”

I rubbed the back of my neck as I eyed my whisky. “I broke up with Carly.”

“I want to say I’m sorry. Or that I didn’t see it coming. After spending an entire match with her, though…” He blew out a breath. “Although she spent a good chunk of it ignoring me, which was fine. I just…”

“She’s…”

“Yeah…”

“And I’m not…”

He cocked his head. “No, you’re not. I might’ve thought you were before, but you’ve proven you’re not…like her.”

“While I waited for you, I went through and deleted a ton of my Insta posts. I don’t want to be seen as that guy .”

“I’m proud of you. You’re so much more than you portray yourself as. I think you could do some real good in the world—when you’re not busy winning matches and cycling around as a courier downtown.”

“Near miss yesterday.”

“Ouch.”

“Pays the bills.” I held his gaze. “I want to tell you about something. I don’t talk to anyone about this, but I want to talk to you.”

“Of course.” He was quick to speak. “You can talk to me about anything.”

Slowly, I withdrew the worn photo envelope from my pocket and handed it over.

And held my breath.

He withdrew a little strip of black-and-white images. His gaze flew to mine. “Carly?”

“What? Oh God, no.” Panic seized me. “No, Carly’s not pregnant.” Thank Christ.

Yardley continued to hold the photos—so damn gently.

“I’ve seen four of these. One for each of Jamilla’s boys, of course.

And one of the girl who…” He blinked. “She didn’t have a properly formed brain and wouldn’t have lived.

That termination…” He blinked again. “That nearly broke Jamilla. Hell, Reuben and I were right there in the suffering. But she found the courage to do what she had to do. Two more first-trimester miscarriages, and then she had Meyer. My sister…” He blew out a breath.

“She’s got so much fucking love to give.

They’re good with their three now, I think. Well, Reuben’s been snipped.”

I winced. Even as I continued to fixate over huge hands gently holding the picture of my daughter. “Anwa miscarried a month after that ultrasound.”

“Aw, shit.”

“The pregnancy was an accident. She was on the pill and was diligent about it. Best she figured, the antibiotics she took for a bout of strep throat might’ve made them less effective. Anyway, she got pregnant, and I planned on marrying her.”

“Oh.” Yardley’s gaze shot to mine. “You loved her?”

“Sure.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Not everyone who’s pregnant has to get married.”

“My baby. No way was she going to be raised in a single-parent household. I cared for Anwa, and wanted…” I swallowed hard.

“We hadn’t settled on a name. I wanted to, but Anwa was more…

cautious. Then she miscarried and said that was how things were meant to be.

But she was at fourteen weeks, so we’d started to tell people.

” I rubbed my face. “I was so damn excited, and then…she dumped me. Took the miscarriage as a sign we weren’t meant to be together.

Returned the ring I’d given her and asked me to lose her number. ”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah, just about. Something…” I blinked rapidly.

“I think something broke inside me. Carly approached me a couple of weeks later. I…” I rubbed my face.

“I told everyone I was relieved at not being a father, and then I started dating someone who…” I sighed.

“Well, Carly’s nothing like Anwa. In fact, Anwa was the one who was not like the others.

She was a PhD student in biochemistry at UBC.

Was a research assistant on some big project.

We met accidentally, hit it off, and I kind of thought it was fate when she got pregnant.

I think we could’ve made a life together.

” I gestured for him to hand me the photo back.

He slowly tucked it into the envelope and with gentleness, pushed it back across the table.

When I reached for it, he placed his hand over mine.

My gaze shot to his.

His eyes were a little misty—much like mine. “Thank you for sharing that with me. That couldn’t have been easy.”

I sniffed. “Even Isaiah and Roger don’t know the whole story. I couldn’t—” I blew out a shaky breath. “—I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Perhaps.” He offered a soft smile. “Or maybe you’re not that guy anymore.

Maybe dating Anwa, and losing the baby, helped you grow up.

Carly was part of your old persona—and so, at first, she felt comfortable.

But you’ve outgrown that life. It doesn’t fit anymore. Clearly, that came to a head tonight.”

“She didn’t take it well.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. She said she expected you to propose soon.”

“Oh fuck.” I sipped the whisky, enjoying the burn. I’d hopped a bus, so if I got shit-faced, I didn’t care. Jacks was open late on Friday nights.

“Well, clearly you did the right thing by ending it.” Yardley offered what I’d term a sympathetic smile. “Not that there’s ever a good time.”

“Yeah.”

My phone buzzed in my back pocket, but I ignored it.

Then it buzzed six more times in succession.

“I apologize.” I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the notification screen.

And groaned.

Yardley arched an eyebrow.

“Sorry.” Even as I said the words, I tapped on the notification from Roger telling me to not check my notifications. Yeah, right.

Even as I scrolled, my heart sank.

“Carly?”

I met Yardley’s gaze.

“Yeah. It’s…bad.” Best I could tell, she’d done a rant on Insta telling everyone what a bastard I was, and she’d tagged every member of the team who had an account.

Yardley placed his hand over mine. “Think very carefully about what you do next. Your first instinct might not be the right one.”

“You mean defending myself?” My hand shook.

“Remember to consider the source. I’m sorry to say people will judge, but Carly’s portrayed herself a certain way and garnered a specific type of following—those who love drama.

You’ve been trying to be more—” He appeared to consider.

“—serious. You posted about the clinic, even though you didn’t mention the kids by name.

Which was appreciated. You’ve posted a lot about Isaiah and Travis.

LGBTQ-friendly stuff. You’ve reached people, and you probably don’t even realize.

Reacting in anger—or frustration—to her, won’t stand you in good stead.

My phone buzzed again.

Roger. Telling me to assure him I was okay.

I typed out a quick message that I was. That I was with Yardley, and I wouldn’t do anything stupid.

He gave me the thumbs-up and then ordered me to put my phone away.

Probably the toughest thing I’ve ever done.

I powered my phone down, then put it in my back pocket.

After all, I was sitting across from one of the nicest people I’d ever met. I’d deal with Carly’s screed in the morning.