“You can,” I respond.
“Why do you hate ‘Waterfalls’? It’s such a feel-good song.”
I smile. “I don’t hate the song, per se, I just think it’s weird when a man knows every word to the rap verse. I happened to have told the girls that a man knowing the words is on my red flag list. That’s why we were laughing. We weren’t laughing at you, just the coincidental situation. What are the chances of you singing that exact song I told them about?”
“Hmm,” he moans as he looks at me skeptically. “Why is it weird to know the words to a once-very-popular song?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I haven’t put that much thought into it. Why do you like the song so much?” I challenge.
A small smile finds his face. “My mom died when I was a little kid. I was only six. It’s not like I have a million memories of her, but one I do have is of her and my dad singing that song together, smiling and laughing. I remember it as if it were yesterday. They had a whole dancing bit to it. After she passed, my dad told me what the song is about. Not chasing waterfalls is a euphemism for not succumbing to temptations like drugs and other dangerous or unhealthy activities. To make smart decisions in life.” He lifts his eyes and then brings them back to me, conveying uncharacteristic softness and sadness. “It’s not like my mom had time to teach me many lessons, so I take that one to heart. And my parents loved to smile and laugh throughoutlife. Even after she passed, my dad always made me laugh. Still does. I don’t know,” he says introspectively, “that song just means happiness to me. Choosing to make good decisions and be happy in life. That’s how I like to live. It’s how I honor her.”
I nod in understanding. “Sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to.”
“No biggie.” He stands. “I’m heading out. Thanks for breakfast.” He places his dish in the sink before looking at me with an uncharacteristically sheepish look on his face. “I’m sorry if the TV interview incident messed up your endorsements.” He walks toward me and holds out his pinkie for me to take. “How about we agree to keep the fighting clean moving forward?”
I take his pinkie in mine and give it the proverbial handshake. “Agreed. And sorry about the dick pic.” I give him a small smile. “At least I now know firsthand that it isn’t true.”
He lets out an overly loud laugh. I think my kitchen light fixture shakes from it.
Still holding his pinkie, I twist it a bit, and he grimaces. “Ow, what the fuck?”
“That’s for lying about Champ being straight.”
He chuckles. “I didn’t lie. I didn’t say hewasn’tgay. You assumed. Watching you hit on him for months was too damn funny though. You were so frustrated. I bet you’ve never been rejected like that in your life.”
I smile. “Ooh, did you just admit that I’m hot?”
“When you don’t talk, yes. Unfortunately, you talk.”
“Back at you, big guy.”
I walk him to the door, looking up at him as I open it. Grabbing his bulging bicep gently, I say, “Thanks for what you did for me, Daylen. Sincerely. I don’t know that I can ever repay you for stepping in the way you did and then taking care of me.”
The corner of his mouth raises slightly. “Your tit popped out of your robe earlier. That was payment enough.”
I punch his arm and mumble, “Asshole.”
He chuckles. “Don’t go soft on me, Sea Witch. I said to keep the fighting clean moving forward, not that I wanted to stop fighting with you.”
I bite back my smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll still bring it.”
He nods. “So will I.”
ELEVEN
DAYLEN
“Sex isn’t math, D,” Beau calmly says to me as he squats an ungodly amount of weight in our team gym without barely breaking a sweat. I’ve never seen a physically stronger human being in my life, and I could probably lift a car. In fact, one blocked me in a few years ago, and I did, in fact, lift it out of my way.
I drop my feet down to the floor from the pull-up bar and cross my sweaty, workout-fatigued arms while glaring at him intensely, fighting the slowly rising corners of my mouth. “Sexismath, Beau. Add a bed, subtract the clothes, divide her legs, and then pray you don’t multiply.”
The guys all break out into laughter, even Beau.
Champ, who’s next to me, mumbles, “At least I don’t have to worry about multiplication when I have sex.”
I smile widely. Champ used to be very tight-lipped about his sexuality, but he’s been more open within our small group over the past few weeks. It makes me so happy that he’s comfortable with us. He’s only been with the team for a year,but I feel like I’ve known him so much longer. He’s quickly become a good friend.
I throw my arm around him. “Holy crap, you’re right. Maybe I should switch things up. You available tonight?” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively. “I’m looking not to multiply.”
