After he grabs his jacket, we climb up the rickety stairs and step out onto the back porch. A brisk wind whips around us. January weather in the Texas Hill Country is so unpredictable. One day, it’ll be seventy and the next, twenty degrees.
I zip up my coat and shiver.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders again. “Cold?”
“Yeah, but it feels good after being inside.”
“Wanna get some hot chocolate?”
I check in with my stomach that’s finally settled. “With those little marshmallows?”
“Is there any other way?”
I playfully pinch his side. “Nope.”
We jump in his thirty-year-old tan Ford Bronco, a gift from his grandmother that runs surprisingly well, and head for the nearest convenience store since it’s too late to go to a coffee shop.
After we load up on hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream, we stop off at the park where we settle on the swings.
It’s dark enough that stars peek through the clouds and so cold I can see my breath, but this is the most settled I’ve felt in months.
“Thank you, Billy. I feel better.”
We turn so our knees are touching. “If you had dated me instead of Ezra, we could be doing this all the time. Actually, there’s a lot more we could be doing.” He shoots me a flirty smirk.
I snort. “I’d hate to curtail your extra-curricular activities.” I love Billy, but his reputation is worse than Ezra’s. His nickname is BillyBigcock. Can’t get much more obvious than that.
He almost looks offended. “There are no extra-curricular activities. We can put that blame squarely on No-Nut November. It threw me off my game.”
I sigh dreamily and bat my eyes. “Gee, Billy, that’s what every girl wants to hear. That you and your roommates didn’t nut because you were afraid of losing a football game. Won’t that make you lose your vision or hearing or something?”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
We both crack up.
Then he motions to his lap. “To be clear, I’ve jerked off since November. I just haven’thook—”
I throw my hand over his mouth. “Stop while you’re ahead.”
The second I remove my palm, he lifts an eyebrow. “What about head?”
I roll my eyes, but I’m laughing.
Until I remember what I need to do this weekend. “If I don’t hear from him by Saturday morning, I’m driving down to San Antonio. I need to have this conversation before school starts next week.”
“The whole team will thank you for not busting Ezra’s ass before the championship game.”
“I wanted you guys and my dad to dominate, and you needed Ezra to focus on winning. But it’s been tough to watch the media fall all over themselves to praise that spineless weasel.”
His voice goes soft. “I tried to warn you.”
“I know, and I regret not listening.” At the time, I wondered if Billy was letting his personal beef with Ezra taint how he viewed him.
But no, he was right. Ezra really is a dick.
I fiddle with the lid on my hot chocolate. “How flipped out do you think my dad will be?”
“Are you asking me ifThe Saintwill shit a two-story brick house when he finds out you’re pregnant?” The Saint was my dad’s nickname in the NFL. “It’s a distinct possibility.”
