Page 36 of Tiger Lilies and Tight Ends

Rico: Yeah, a truck for all those chickens and goats. Next up, she’ll have you buying her a mini cow.

Ryder: What’s a mini cow?

Sully: (sends GIF of a mini cow in someone’s house)

Ryder: You’re buying a cow to live in your house?

Rico: He’s probably already bought the cow and isn’t telling us.

Ryder: What do you do when it shits?

Camden: Some wear diapers.

Dylan: Hold up. What am I reading? Bryan, you bought a cow for your house and you change its diapers?

Bryan: What the fuck is happening right now?

Rico: Someone text Lexi and get a picture for us.

Bryan: Leave my wife alone.

Ryder: He’s not denying it.

Bryan: Fuck my life.

Rico: Not denying.

Bryan: I DON’T HAVE A MINI COW.

Chapter 14

Tyler

Iwent down the rabbit hole last night, even though I told myself I wasn’t going to. I looked Lily up online. First, I looked up her real name, and her personal social media accounts popped up. She doesn’t keep a lot on them, just enough to stay active, but there are a hundred images of her and Davis together on Google, starting back in college, and then there are the tabloid articles.

The pictures of her were like a walk down memory lane. Granted, he’s in most of the photos, but still, the internet has chronologically captured her turning from a teenager into a woman. From the shape of her face and body to how she styles her hair, she’s aged beautifully and gracefully over what is almost the past decade.

All of the tabloid articles span back to basically when Davis transferred from Miami to Alabama. There are pictures of him with other women, pictures that look like he’s on vacation, pictures where he’s standing alone, and quite frankly, it’s all ridiculous. Some of the articles love her, while most of them bash her for one thing or another. It’s terrible, and I can see why she’s hiding out in my house. I would hide out too if every time I stepped outside, someone took my picture and then tore my appearance apart.

Which led me to look up her author name. These accounts are very active, and her readers engage with her almost daily. While she doesn’t show her face or too much of her gorgeous hair, there are quite a few pictures of different parts of her body, like her hands when she’s typing, her legs stretched out in a lounge chair overlooking a lake, which I’m assuming is where she was before she came here and the setting for her next series, and different images of her outfits from the neck down. And those outfits, damn, if she doesn't look so good in them. Especially the ones from the dude ranch with the mountains in the background, where she’s either wearing skintight jeans and boots, or a tiny skirt with those boots. I didn’t realize I had a kink for boots, but after seeing these, I’m thinking maybe I do.

But really, how amazing is it that she writes books? And how ridiculous is it that Davis didn’t even have a clue? He’s such a fucking dumbass. She has thousands and thousands of followers, she’s been ranked on Amazon, her brand is spot-on from her website, to book covers, to color schemes and fonts, and she’s on her ninth book in just over two years. Her reviews are glowing, and I feel such pride at seeing how successful she is by following this dream. It’s unfathomable to me that he wouldn’t feel the same. But then again, she knows him better than all of us, and if she felt she couldn’t tell him, then she had her reasons. How sad. I’m so glad she finally left that guy. It makes me irrational with how much of her time he actually got. I know it shouldn’t bother me, but it does.

What also bothers me is that she wrote about hockey players. Hockey.

Granted, I think it’s a cool sport and all, but she has lived and breathed football her whole life. From going to her brother’s games to Davis’s. And as for hockey, those guys fight and lose their teeth. What could possibly be romantic about that?

But hey, now that she’s out from under his thumb, maybe I can sway her. I bet with her knowledge, those stories would be incredible, and as I look around the inside of our practice field, there’s no way she can write about sports and not pick football. I’m just going to have to push that storyline down the road. I feel like this is a deep wrong she needs to right. I mean, hockey. Like what the …?

“This team barbecue is my favorite barbecue of the year,” Rico says as he walks to our group. “The guys are all here, we get to see their families, and the food is damn good. Especially Lexi's pies.”

“Yeah, I think Vivi has already sampled every flavor Lexi brought. Forget the grilled chicken and the mac and cheese, she went straight for the dessert,” Jonah says, looking toward the tables where Vivi sits next to Darius’s son. Meanwhile, Sophie hovers not too far away.

“Girl after my own heart.” Rico pats his heart twice while glancing toward the food tables longingly. He’s already had three plates of food.

Three times a year, the team gets together with loved ones. At the beginning of the season, the middle, usually our bye week, and then at the end of the season. This first barbecue is in our practice facility, as it is enclosed and air-conditioned. It’s the first weekend in August when it’s the hottest here all year. The second is in the stadium, keeps the vibe going for the season, and the last is usually in a hotel the weekend after whenever our last game is. Everyone dresses nice, there are spoof awards given, there’s a bloopers reel, acknowledgments for whoever is leaving or retiring, that kind of stuff.

“I like the fall family picnic, too. Actually, I think I just like seeing everyone together,” Reid’s saying, as Rico gasps and cuts him off.