The Canary Cowards

by Jescie Hall

I'm such a guy right now. Everything she just said, I pictured with a side of sex. Meet my limits? Break me? Girl, you wish you could. I'd rock your whole bland little homeless world.

“It's best not to be ashamed of a body that heals itself with such beauty.”

Gives her best attempts at seeming bland and lifeless, even emotionless. She doesn't want to be seen; in return, it only makes me want to see more.

If I look, I'll fall. And a fall into Lake is something I'll never come back from.

“One night with me would never be enough for you, Decker,” she breathes into my ear.

We're both losing this game, and I can't believe I'm even thinking this, but I've never loved losing more.

“How can you be possessive of something that isn't yours?” Because you will be mine. You just don't know it yet.

But fear quickly stamps that anticipation as I eye the school bus full of children he thinks he's driving into me.

“Just as long as you kiss me while you do it,”

“Shit, Dylan.” He groans, tossing his head back against the bed as he mutters phrases. “You're too much for me. It's been so long. It's so good.”

“So.” Kiss. “Fucking.” Kiss with tongue. “Good,” he says in a raspy tone.

Lake Decker made love to me. He doesn't need to fuck me. I've successfully found a way to fuck myself.

“I'd never jeopardize your job, Dylan,”

“I have nothing but respect for you.”

He's respecting my wishes for the agreement. It's everything I need. What I can't figure out is why it's nothing I want.

My night with Dylan in the hotel room was unlike anything I’d expected. My jock brain that's been knocked around one too many times isn't even able to process the correct verbs to describe it. She’s flipped my whole world. Spun me so much that I can't think about anything but her and the way she felt around me, the way she tastes. It's all still on the tip of my tongue, this need for more. I don't see a future where that doesn't happen between us again.

She gave me a taste, and now I need to swallow her whole.

She has no clue what I'm willing to do to get those lips on mine again. What lengths I'll go to keep them on me. I'd say they were my new bad habit, but there's nothing bad about it. Kissing Dylan is nothing but good.

I swear my nipples just hardened. Fucking traitors. That's the one thing I hate about tits. They're like erections for women. Coming alive when they shouldn't, acting irresponsible and selfish, showcasing your needs to the world. It's incredibly embarrassing and uncalled for.

“I'll take you any way I can get you, Dylan, for however long it takes, even if that means we have to keep it discreet.”

“But what I won't do is let you go.”

“And that’s on rainbow.”

A breathy moan. I'm losing. I've lost. If this is a fucking game, I'm out. Done. Deceased. Take my medals, take my rings. I submit to you, Dylan.

It's the fact that she's sucking me off on a massage table. In the back room. At the gym where she works. Everything about it feels so taboo, so lewd, so forbidden, and so completely fucking indecent. It's everything I never thought I’d enjoy.

“I came to see my girl.”

“Don't say stuff you don't mean.”

“I mean i...

“You're my...

“I want her to meet the woman that's got me all fucked up. The one training me to get back on that field in record time to slash records and fight for the woman who fought for me. The one that drives me crazy with her wit and smart-ass comebacks. The one that's got me feeling jealous and unhinged, breaking glasses and hating everyone who occupies her mind.” He shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief, then swallows. “The one that's selfless and protective.” His hand squeezes mine. “The one that loves hard.” He sighs, and it's shaky as those eyes look up, piercing through me. “The one that reminds me of her.”

“I'll chase you,”

“What?”

“If you even for a second think you're gonna run, know I'll chase you. I'll chase until you're mine,” he whispers, grabbing my wrists and placing them on both sides of the headrest, making me fall forward into him again. “I'll catch you when you're slippin’.” He leans forward to capture my lips, pulling my bottom lip between his and...

“And what if I'm ...

“Don't make me regret it,”

“Training me?”

“No,” I reply simply. “...

“Told you I'd catch you,”

“Be careful with me,”

“I plan on being a lot of things with you,”

“But careful is not one of them.”

“Baby,” I begin in a cracked tone, leaning forward to whisper the words in her ear. “I just had you bent over the kitchen table. Legs spread. Taking you from behind. Raw.” The blush rises from her neck to her cheeks as I pull back to look her in the eyes. “This is hardly invasive in comparison.”

I reach the kitchen, dropping them off my arms and rolling up my sleeves, noting the warped, red lines from the bags tearing into my flesh. One trip, bitch.

hold my breath as I gaze back at him. It's like he sees something in me. My hidden truth I've been covering for so long. He knows what I'm doing here. That I've fallen in love with his sister even if I haven't admitted it to her. He knows my weaknesses, my omission of painful truths. My reasons for playing football again. The hopeless boy beneath this shell of a man who still clings to the belief that miracles can happen, and that making her proud of me again will somehow make that deadly disease vanish without a trace. It's like he sees it. He sees me. As the coward I am.

The team name.” Colin turns his gaze back to me again. “The Canary Cowards.” He nods once to himself, turning to kick back in his chair again, and I feel my chest tighten as he repeats the name, the truth stirring up these impending emotions. “The Canary Cowards,” he repeats.

“Tell me I can love you the way I need to in order to breathe,” he whispers his demands like he does. “Tell me you’ll let me back in.”