Page 45 of Tyler
We’re in Chicago, the Windy City, jogging alongside freaking Lake Michigan. It’s beautiful, but besides the welcoming breeze, it’s still damnhot. It’s humid as hell and I’m sweating like Ijust performed in Florida again, my shirt already stuffed into the backpack I’ve got strapped to me as I follow the love of my life while he runs from all the things we can’t fix.
Hejuststarted to relax, for fuck’s sake, but the tension is right back in the set of his shoulders, so I brought something for him to release the stress for a bit, to forget about this fucked up situation in an otherwise perfect visit.
“Yo!” I call out, picking up my pace as we hit a nice big, open stretch of grass. “Think fast, quarterback!”
When Ty slows down and glances over his shoulder with a confused little frown, I leap onto his back.
On instinct, he catches my legs and stops running, hands firm under my thighs as I wrap my arms around his broad, sweaty shoulders—clinging to him like a koala that’s decided this is its new favorite tree.
I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. “Hi, handsome.”
He chuckles, and I feel it right there against my lips. “Right back atcha. What are you doing? We’re only halfway through, we’ve got, like, three miles to go.”
“Maybe I’ve got something else in mind, something morefun.” I lick a slow stripe along the damp skin of his neck. His fingers dig into my thighs with a startled gasp.
“Shit, Jacie. I’m all sweaty and gross, but if you wanna go back to the bus…”
I snicker. “Love where your mind’s going, but not what I meant.” I hop off his back, sling my backpack around, and unzip it. From inside, I pull out a brand-new football and point it toward the field. “I know you’re missing the start of training camp, and I don’t want you to fall behind. Thought maybe you’d wanna practice a bit?”
His grin is instant. Bright. Blinding. “Dude, Ilovethat. But are you sure?” He cocks his head. “Because, you know, you can’t throw or catch for shit.”
“That’s whyhe’shere,” I say, jerking my thumb over my shoulder. I know mountain manEv’s still trailing us, has been ever since we left the bus. Thank fuck he left Mick behind, I’d push him right into Lake Michigan if he were here.
“That’s not why I came,” Ev says, deadpan, stepping up beside us. “I’m not letting you two wander around a city like this by yourselves. Especially not the day after the album dropped. You know how people get, there can be crazy fans everywhere.”
“Come on,” I say, rolling my eyes. “It’s eight a.m. The city’s barely awake. Who’s gonna mob us, a power-walking grandma?”
“She could have pepper spray and a YouTube channel,” Ev mutters.
I snicker involuntarily. “We’ll be fine. We can handle ourselves. Have youseenhim?” I add, gesturing to my big and muscly Ty.
Ty scoffs and shoves my shoulder, making me stumble a step. “Don’t mind him,” he says to Ev, shaking his head as I huff and straighten up. “You’re joining, right?” He flashes Ev a hopeful grin—one of those big ones that’s impossible to say no to—before he starts spinning the football around his fingers like it’s a damn extension of his soul.
Ev eyes the ball like it’s gonna give him great head later tonight and nods.
Christ. Football players.
Shaking my head, I run where Ty points me to go with a ”go wide” or whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean, and it takes me all of ten minutes of fumbling to confirm that yes, I suck at this.
Buttheydon’t. And they’re having way too much fun sprinting across the grass and rolling around like golden retrievers hopped on caffeine, all smiles, trying to one-up each other with every pass. It’s good to see Ty like this, in his element, and I don’t miss the skip in his step.
“I’m out!” I call out, jogging halfway back toward him and tossing the football into his hands after I finally caught it after fuck knows how many attempts. “Without me, you won’t have to hold back.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.” I wink. “And that’s okay.” I nod to the bench at the side of the trail. “I’m gonna rest up a bit, see if my dad has news. Let Ev run wild, okay?”
His answering grin is contagious, and I find myself returning it before heading to the bench where I dropped my bag earlier, grabbing some fancy isotonic drink Ty favors—so I bought it, duh—and drowning half of it as soon as I sit down and kick my legs out to watch them turn their pro-mode on.
There are maybe one too many lingering gazes from passing joggers, men and women alike, who suddenly get the urge to stretchreallllslow right as they pass by. Can’t blame them, I guess, since both men lost their shirts at some point as well. But whatever. They can gawk, as long as they don’ttouch.
“Hey, are you that guy from that new band? Encore?”
I snap my gaze up from where it was glued to Ty’s ass to find a couple of guys—young enough to still be in high school—staring at me with excitement brimming in their wide eyes, both also dressed in running gear.
“Dude, you totally are, aren’t you?” the left one says, elbowing his freckled friend—hard. “Heis, bruh. I told you he is. This is so unreal!”
I plaster a smile on my face, and it’s genuine. Even though today is not my best day after yesterday’s shitfest, I love getting to engage with our fans, and it perks me right up.
