Wild Card Ch. 05

"They still keeping up with it?" Pollard

"Yeah, Caiden's in sports journalism and is covering a couple of the bowl games for one of the local stations," he said, his voice a little strained. "Connor's a physical therapist. His team is playing on New Year's Day, so he's with them. Cameron's team didn't get invited to a postseason game, but he's probably busy trying make sure the guys aren't fucking up their diets." Cory scratched his neck absentmindedly and turned back to the catalogue in his hand.

"Dude, that's—" Pollard started, only to be cut by JJ's discreet cough and almost imperceptible head shake, discouraging further talk on the subject.

"Goddamnit, Cory," Adrian said, gripping his shoulder in apology. "I fuckin' forgot."

"S'okay," Cory muttered.

Stubbs, Pollard, and Myles gave our group a weird look—seemed they hadn't been made aware of Cory's home situation. It became even more apparent that nobody seemed comfortable enough to share the information. Tense silence fell over the group until Cory scrubbed his hand down his face.

"I'm bored as fuck," he said. "JJ, Berta told me you stole some of her DVDs."

JJ chuckled. "Yep, and got the 'trax from Drew." Adrian, Mitch, and the three outsiders stared at us dumbly as we looked to the huge flat screen TV on the other side of the green room.

"Oh, hell yes!" Paul said. Someone had helpfully tuned the TV to one of the bowl games from earlier in the week, but no one was paying it any attention.

Cory chuckled, relieved to finally have attention focused elsewhere. "'Rain, you in?"

"I'm so there."

~*~*~*~

"They were having a field day with that Twilight shit you pulled," Indie said. The guy seldom watched sports, and knew fuckall about football, but he had the biggest flat screen and the best beer, so a bunch of our friends had crashed his place to watch us beat the shit out of our opponents.

Of course, I had a sneaking suspicion that he would have watched the game anyway, if only to catch a few glimpses of a certain cheerleader twink, the same one cuddled up with him in the sizable and comfy recliner. That sight, coupled with Cory snuggled up to me watching Lola wrestle with my hand, had to be testing the limits of Gio's tolerance of gay PDA, but he seemed to be shrugging it off just fine.

"Shoulda seen the commentator guy's face when the reporter said you were watching chick flicks before the game," he said. "Especially when it cut to the video."

Cory and I smirked. At some point, the reporter joined us for the marathon. I hadn't realized that they were still filming, but it was kinda cool. The sound of the cameraman laughing along with us was a nice touch.

Made for a better story than watching the guys from the other team stare at their cellphones.

"Still amazed that we got away with it," I said, trying not to wince as Lola's little kitten teeth dug into my fingers. With the sparkly blue tips on her front paws, and Cory keeping the back claws trimmed, getting scratched up wasn't a problem, but that hell spawn's tiny fangs mauled the fuck out of my digits.

If she weren't so fucking adorable...

"Some of our 'handlers' had to come in and remind us to settle down," Cory added.

I shrugged. "Eh, it was all in good fun."

In reality, I was thankful for that marathon. Cory's mood seemed to improve the longer we joked and laughed with our teammates. By the time the game rolled around, he'd finally pulled himself out of his "grin and bear it" mindset and was legitimately grinning. All the mistakes and fumbles he'd been turning out at practice stopped, and he played the game harder than anyone else. I had my boyfriend back at last.

"But, still," Indie said. "The whole saga?"

"And almost the whole team," Cory said.

"Really?" Gio asked.

"Yup," Cory replied. "Besides, it shouldn't be that surprising because I know many of them had seen it before."

"I doubt that," I said.

"Seriously," he insisted. "Back when it first came out, a bunch of my friends forced their boyfriends to watch with them. My friend, Jonesie, even read the books because his girlfriend made him."

"Fuck, what's up with straight girls?" Indie asked.

"I know, right?" Cory said, this earned a chuckle from the rest of us.

"So, you made out like bandits this year," Gio said, our discussion of Twilight-obsessed females obviously at an end.

"Indeed," I said.

"The swag was pretty cool," Preston agreed. A few packages had arrived for Cory and me, and even a couple for Preston (who had borrowed our address because he did not trust his neighbors).

"Y'all weren't the only one's looting," Indie said.

Gio laughed. "Lola's been stealing crap and hiding it under the loveseat." We shot our roommates confused looks, and Lola chose that moment to start kicking my palm with her back paws.

"She stole my fucking headband off my head," Indie complained.

"Wait, the thin elastic one? Didn't you steal that from Laurel?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," he said. "I'd just gotten it back from her, and that cat tried to run off with it."

"Dude, she's fucking all of two pounds," I said.

"She growled at me."

"It was cute as fuck," Gio added. "But, the best part was her fighting him off as he tried to take it back."

Cory picked Lola up out of my lap and cooed at her. "Were you being a bad girl for Mr. Indie?" She sniffed indifferently, and he made kissy noises into her neck. "Daddy's little girl."

"Daddy's little hell beast," Indie muttered, almost drowned out by the sound of the doorbell.

"Probably more loot," I said and stood up to go get it.

The guys continued to laugh over Lola's brat-cat antics as I left the room.

I'd barely stepped into the foyer when the doorbell rang again, which was a little odd since most delivery guys knock once then bolt, either dropping your stuff on the doorstep or leaving a note for you to come get it yourself. I mentally shrugged. Maybe it was a new guy who hadn't yet mastered the ding-dong-dash system favored by delivery people across the country.

What I found couldn't have been further from that guess.

Three blue-eyed, blond-haired men stood on my doorstep. The largest of the three gave me the once-over.

"So, this is the guy who got our little Cory in trouble."