Page 46 of Smooth Talk

Chapter 19

Grayson

I called Poppy several times to invite her to my family’s Fourth of July celebration at the farm on Wednesday. She was too busy to respond on Sunday afternoon. Busy Monday night when she texted back, right before bed. And busy Tuesday morning when I called from the office. She’s been busy every damn day, and I’m starting to think it was an excuse. I thought we were done with this. There has to be a reason she kept saying no.

Maybe she’s embarrassed about what we did Saturday. I’m not. I’m the opposite of embarrassed. I’m excited; I want to make that shit happen again. And often. Poppy’s perfect pink pussy is an image I can’t get out of my head. The way her body responded to my touch. Her face when she came playing on a loop. I need all of that again. Soon. Like yesterday. And this time I want some of my other body parts to join the party. Someone felt a little left out last time. And if she feels that amazing around my fingers, she’ll feel magical wrapped around my dick. Just the idea of it, has him perking up.

Poppy turned down all my efforts at making that transpire earlier in the week, claiming to be swamped. But really, who works on Independence Day? No one.

My saving grace was Harper. She was in the car yesterday evening and I was on speaker phone when I invited them. She heard the words BBQ, fireworks and Gunner. She’d squealed (literally and figuratively) and blown Poppy’s cover (they did not have a prior engagement, as it turns out). Her hesitance has me on edge. I find myself unable to focus, my stomach’s in knots. I’ll see where her head’s at soon enough; they’ll be here in less than an hour.

My head needs to get in the game. We’re immersed in our family’s annual July Fourth flag football game. Really, we play every holiday the weather cooperates (we learned our lesson the year we played in sleet—it’s Coastal Carolina; we don’t get snow— and every single one of us got pneumonia). Today, it’s O, Lil and me against Mase, Vi and Jake. Mase just handed me my ass because my thoughts were more pleasantly preoccupied, and because he doesn’t grasp the concept of grabbing the flag tied around my waist. Apparently, he’d rather tackle the shit out of his older brother. And Mase is huge, he surpassed all of us in height and weight his freshman year in high school. I honestly think he might still be growing, the big bastard.

“Easy bro, I’d hate for you to dislocate your shoulder and be out the first few games of the season ‘cause you tried to show me up on the home field,” I joke.

“For real though, dude. It’d kill my fantasy league,” Jake grumbles.

“You’re killing me with your non-coverage. Lil’s gotten past you like three times,” Mase yells with exasperation at my best friend.

“He can’t help it that I’m just as good on the field as I am off it,” Lil crows busting Jake’s balls a little.

“I’ll show you who’s good off the field,” Jake mumbles. They’ve always had a somewhat rocky relationship. Constantly vying for the ‘who can be the biggest smartass’ award. I love them both. But they need to get their heads on straight. If they’d stop arguing for a minute, they’d realize they have more in common than they think. At first glance their total opposites, Lil’s wild and carefree while Jake is steady and straight-laced. But they both have remarkably similar priorities in life—family, honor, justice. They both care deeply; there’s not much either wouldn’t do for me. I could go on, but they’d never listen.

“Dude, she’s a girl. You’re way faster. Just tackle her ass next time.”

Jake and Lily’s eyebrows hit their hairlines in sync. I can tell she’s about to take offense to the girl comment, but Jake beats her. “You want me to tackle your sister?” Mase nods emphatically, like duh. Just when I think Jake’s going to defend the honor of females everywhere, with a ‘men do not tackle ladies,’ quip, he surprises me. “My pleasure,” he says winking at Lily.

She rolls her eyes, “I’d like to see you try, Jacob.”

“I bet you would, Lillian.” Shots fired. They’ll push each other until one of them takes it too far. Usually it’s Lil, and it ends with Jake walking away fuming. Mumbling about leaving before he does something he’ll regret. I’ve never understood their dynamic. They don’t have a good reason to dislike each other as much as they do. I think the only reason they even try to get along is for me. I’d hate to see what would happen if I weren’t here.

“It’s a damn shame your brother isn’t here. I’d take him and Ash over you clowns any day. We could have an actual game and teach you kids a lesson.”

“I take offense to that,” Vi yells at Mase from a few yards away. He apologizes and he trots back toward her. She’s the sweet, innocent one of the bunch. She’s also the youngest—technically the only ‘kid’ here. She’s not weak, like some would assume. Merely meek. She has a backbone. She just rarely has the need to flaunt it. And believe me, with five older siblings, we’ve definitely shown her how to, as well as given her reason to on a few occasions.

“That’s a lot of shit talking for the only professional baller on this field, and your team is down by six, bro.” I add, laughing with my siblings. I love them. I miss them. We really don’t see each other often enough. Damn, I’m getting sappy in my old age.

“Whatever dude. There’s still three minutes left in the game and we’ve yet to unveil our secret weapon.” Jake trots over where Vi and Mase are, they huddle and break. Every last one of them smirking. Even sweet little Violet. It’d be scary if it weren’t so adorable. We’ve got possession. Lily snaps the ball, then takes a short route, O books it to the end zone and Mase charges me. I lob the ball to Oliver because Jake has thrown Lily over his shoulder and is running around the field tickling her while she screams obscenities at him around bursts of laughter. She’ll pee her pants soon if he doesn’t stop. Then they’ll both be pissed.

Everything happens in slow-motion. Violet jumps and intercepts my damn pass. She’s faster than I gave her credit for and Oliver can’t catch up. Lily is useless; it’s up to me. Well, it would’ve been if my asshole brother didn’t just knock me flat on my back again. Ouch, fucker.

“Flag football Mase! Flag!” I yell as Vi does a little victory waggle and spikes the ball.

“Six Points for Six!” Mase boasts slapping palms with our baby sister before jogging back to their side of the field laughing.

Unacceptable. This game was ours, we had it in the bag, now it’s tied. With less than a minute left. We have time for one play, maybe two. I need those damn bragging rights. Lily shoves a laughing Jake backward hard when he puts her feet back on the ground. He catches himself before toppling over. She’s so mad. Oliver looks a little sheepish. I’m covered in grass stains. It’s. On.

“I had no idea Six was so fast. By the time I thought about catching up, she was already gone,” he says, sounding out of breath.

“I think she’s been going hard at her marathon training. Looks like you’ve been slacking off O,” Lily says.

“She has, and I’ve been busy,” O objects.

“Whatever,” Lil’s face is red, and she looks pissed, but also a little flustered. “We also have yet to unveil our secret weapon,” she looks at me conspiratorially. Oh shit, I hope she’s not thinking what I think she’s thinking.

“Oh, she definitely is,” O says grinning. This is not a secret weapon. It’s not a plan. It’s nothing but a stupid drunk idea my sister concocted a year or so ago. She calls it DT (distraction technique). She wants to use it every time Jake or Hud play, as it’s the only time it would be appropriate. I’ve shot it down, every time. The ‘W’ is on the line, and she thinks now is the perfect time for it.

Fuck it. I’m desperate.

If it doesn’t work, we can Hail Mary the shit out of our last play. I clap my hands, “All right. Break!”

We line up, I know exactly what’s about to happen, we didn’t even need to say a word to each other. Our sibling mind-meld is on point. Lily steps to the ball and leans over. She pulls her shirt down so all of cleave-land is on full display, winks at Jake, then blows him a kiss. I honestly don’t think it’ll have any effect on him whatsoever and will be a complete waste of a down. Jake is somewhat of a ladies’ man, used to seeing all kinds of women in all stages of undress. My kid sister flashing the top of her bra should have zero effect on him.

Clearly, Lil was right. And clearly, I don’t know my best friend as well as I thought I did. AND CLEARLY, we are going to have to have a damn conversation before he leaves about the inappropriateness of ogling any part of my sister’s body. His eyes are like fucking saucers right now. I’m surprised his tongue is still inside his mouth. She snaps me the ball and runs her route uncovered. Jake is standing immobile, dumbfounded. I’m not passing to O again. He’s going to have to seriously step up his game next time in order to redeem himself. Lily catches the ball and takes off. Jake is too late on the uptake. Vi tries to cover, but O is there running interference. Touchdown! Mase grumbles something about all women being cheaters, but I’m too busy celebrating with my team in the endzone.

Dad yells out the back door that it’s time to wash up for dinner. And it takes me back to when we were kids.

Slapping palms with O and Lil, “bragging rights ‘til Thanksgiving, baby,” I jog happily toward the house. A quick shower, then my girls will be here. Yep, that’s right, I’ve stopped denying it. They’re mine. I cannot wait.

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