Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I am,” I finally replied.
“Wash your hands. Dinner is almost done,” Kenny told me.
“Yes, sir.” God, I loved him.
A few minutes later we sat down for dinner. I tried to come over and eat with Mom and Kenny at least once a week, though it wasn’t always easy between work and coaching Kenny’s football team. But the three of us were all we had as far as family went.
“How’s work?” Mom asked.
“Not too bad. That Hudson fire was brutal. Lost the whole damn building, but luckily, no lives.”
It was an accident that I’d fallen into firefighting. I spent some time waiting for a football career to come find me in Fever Falls and make all my dreams come true. I don’t know why that shit didn’t happen. I forgot that yes, while we were an up-and-coming town with both urban and rural areas, and high school football was life, it stopped there. Had to head to the bigger cities for college or professional teams.
Then there’d been a kitchen fire at home. Luckily, there hadn’t been much damage, nothing a slight remodel couldn’t fix. I’d already moved out, but the thought of what could have happened to my mom and Kenny had given me a sort of jump start. And now I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Well, I could sort of imagine playing football, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen. Still, I loved what I did. Gave me purpose, if that made sense.
“You’re a hero!” Kenny said, and my pulse went crazy. He always said that of me, but I didn’t deserve it. Not really.
“Nah, that’s you.” I winked at him, and he gave me another of those hundred-watt smiles.
We were quiet for a few moments. I made sure to oooh and ahhh about how good dinner was, which again made my brother practically bounce in his seat. When we finished eating, Mom offered to do the dishes, and Kenny and I didn’t argue with her.
We went into the backyard and tossed my football back and forth for a little while, and I had to admit, feeling the leather against my skin made my chest ache…brought forth images of Ashton Carmichael—the muscles he’d put on since high school, his short, brown hair and those blue, blue eyes. Oh, and a career I would have killed for, which he’d recently thrown down the drain for a piece of ass. Or, as the articles had said, four of them.
Fucking Ashton Carmichael. I hadn’t seen him since he left home, exactly one week after that night. When we’d run into each other after the kiss, we’d both acted like nothing had happened, but I’d been thinking about it. I’d hated myself for it, but I had.
Was Ash gay too?
Bisexual?
Did it make him realize he’d had feelings for me the way it had done for me?
Apparently, the answers to those questions had all been no because Ash had thrown himself into more than football when he left—he’d thrown himself into women. A lot of them. Apparently, sometimes in groups of four.
Pain shot through my nose, and I stumbled back as the football fell to the ground. “Shit!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Kenny’s voice was frantic as he ran over.
“Hey. I’m fine. My fault for not paying attention, not yours.”
I took my hand away. It wasn’t even bleeding, just a bit sore.
Kenny’s eyes found the ground, not looking convinced.
“Dude…I’m fine. Have I ever lied to you?” I wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
“No.”
“And I’m not about to start now.”
His cheeks got slightly red for a second, and I wondered what I could have said to make him bashful.
“Were you thinking about a boy?” Kenny asked.
Yes…yes, I was. I didn’t plan to open that can of worms with him, though. “What makes you ask that?”
His cheeks turned three shades redder, and my stomach clenched while my heart swelled for him. Kenny had only had one real crush that he’d talked to me about, but it had been one of those things that never could have happened.
“There’s this…girl. She’s new to my group.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and dug the toes of his shoes into the dirt.
Kenny met with a Down syndrome group called Pathway once a week. He’d made a lot of good friends there, and I was so happy he had it. That, along with his football team and the college classes he was taking, and Kenny had a more exciting life than I did. He’d always been what they considered high-functioning. He also hadn’t had a lot of major health problems. He had a mild digestive issue, which a lot of people with Down syndrome had, but no heart defects, which were also common in people with his disability. He’d spoken late, and his speech had been hard to understand in the beginning, but after a lot of speech therapy, he was now pretty easy to understand.