The Canary Cowards

by Jescie Hall

And there he sits. Against the wall, ass on the floor, hoodie over his dark locks. His five o’clock shadow is in full gear, and it only adds to the whole depressed-fallen-athlete look he’s going for. He’s fit in Nike from head to toe, and even from his seated position, I can tell he’s too tall for his position as a running back. His legs are long and extremely toned, like some sort of genetically engineered cheetah.

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.

“I'm not here to show off my body. I'm here to work.” She crosses her arms over her chest, tipping her head at me. “What are you here to do?” Not blushing, she's enraged. Grabbing the hem of my sweatshirt, I pull it up and off with two hands, messing up my overgrown hair. Standing before her in only a pair of joggers, I tip my head lightly. “Both.”

Remember that five-minute crush I had on Lake Decker? Yeah, that shit's dead and gone.

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

I open the door and am met with rage personified. There he stands, leaning forward, all six-foot-four of him, bracing himself with his palms on the door frame. The bulging muscles of his biceps flex above me as the sharp edge of his jaw twitches. His head is dipped down, but those gun-metal eyes are glaring up at me with the heat of a raging volcano, bound to burst and melt every living thing in its path.

Her breath meets my ears before she whispers, “I'm going to enjoy my night with you, Lake.”

His need to feel my orgasm around him has me pooling even more in anticipation. But fear quickly stamps that anticipation as I eye the school bus full of children he thinks he's driving into me. “Holy fuck, Lake.” My eyes widen as I take in the image of his hand stroking himself from base to tip.

This was supposed to be a fuck. Both of us getting out whatever sexual tension we had built up and tossing it into the fire. But what's happening between us is only stoking the fire, adding more to the coals that burn beneath. Igniting something and strengthening it like gas to the flames we deny. Flames that need to be snuffed out immediately before the irreversible damage is done. Lake Decker made love to me.

I'm done imagining her jealous stares, like when the flock of women circled me this morning for autographs and pictures outside the gym. I saw her eyeing them up. Comparing herself. But it's you, D, that's got me hooked.

“Stop what? Getting erections in my presence?” she deadpans. I choke out a laugh, not expecting her bluntness as she pushes me until I'm flat on my back again, stretching the muscle I didn't realize was so tight. “It happens all the time, Lake. With many of my clients,” she says through a soft sigh, pushing my knee towards my chest. No, she didn't. “It's fine. I'm used to it. Doesn't even phase me anymore.” She hops on the table to get better leverage, the smirk on her face killing me slowly. “I'm a snake charmer, Lake. It's my cross to bear.”

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.

“You told me one night with you wouldn't be enough, and it's not. It's not even close to enough. I need more.”

“I'm your therapist, Lake,” she whispers against my shaft, her tongue licking around the crown. “So you can't touch me.” She closes her hand around me, stroking my length a few times. “But I can touch you anywhere I want.” “Oh, fuck.” I groan, my back teeth grinding together as her sweet lips surround me. “I love this gym's policies.”

I'm speechless. Cocky, confident, arrogant Lake Decker is in post-nut shock.

Marching over towards Lake as he begins marching towards me, I see some of his teammates around him turn their heads to face me. “You,” I say directly. “Outside.” I point to the door. Candy's eyes round as he holds a hand to his lips, covering his expression the best he can before laughing through it. “Ooooh! Teacher's mad, Lakey! You coulda cut those hands!” he hollers through cupped hands. “Spank him, Dyl. He's a bad boy.”

“Girls are all over me,” he admits, coming to stand before me. “In my DMs, in my house with Candy, here at the bar...wanting me. Constantly.” He shakes his head. “But it’s like I have blinders on. I can’t see them at all. All I see is you. All I can think about is you. All I want is to be let into your little world, to be close with you, with Colin. To know your secrets better than anyone else. Better than him.”

“Let's go lil' Cracker,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and dragging me back around to the entry of the old pub. “And no, it's not because you're white.” Cocking my head at the strange comment, I turn my gaze to Lake next to me, who drags his hands down his face at his friend, following a step behind us, before it clicks. “It's because I'm stale,” I grumble, still glaring at the guy who's constantly digging his own grave.

The engine roars to life, and I watch the corded muscles in his forearms as he clutches the shift and throws it into reverse. His torso turns as he grabs the back of my seat, looking behind us while his other massive hand grips the steering wheel, maneuvering us back out of our spot. I'm staring at him like a psycho would, but I can't help it. The way he operates this massive truck with such ease is turning me on, and I can't understand why. Nothing about this is sexual at all, yet here I am, wishing he'd control me like he's controlling this metal on wheels beneath us.

“You know, they say consuming semen can reduce anxiety. So, if you need to suck me off again for your own comfort, by all means…” He takes a hand off the wheel, pointing a welcoming hand at his groin. My eyes widen as I turn to face him. I’m appalled. Then I consider it for a moment. Then I’m appalled. His serious face breaks into a half-grin, which ends up stretching across his entire face until he's finally laughing. He's laughing at me.

I’m tipsy and I want him, but now he wants to be respectful. Dammit, he's a decent guy. Life would be so much easier if he wasn't.

“Woah, woah, woah...” Candy says, waving his hands and sitting forward. “You were sleeping with her?!” I rotate my jaw, cracking my fingers into my palm. He laughs. “Chill, Deck. Clearly you were sleeping with her.” I fix my glare on him.

“But then things got worse.” Candy cocks his head. “Worse as in...” “Colin was going through some sort of meltdown when I got back in there. There was glass on the floor. He had her pinned against the cupboards, unintentionally choking her out. She was bleeding...it was a mess. It was awful. I...I fucked up.” “Oh Jesus, did you punch her brother? Tell me you didn’t punch her poor, sweet, disabled brother.”

“Dude,” he scoffs, his helmet dangling in his fingers by the facemask. “I can’t handle this bitch shit.” “Bitch shit?” I take a step forward, standing above him on the bench now, getting heated. “I’m fucking wrecked right now and you wanna call it bitch shit?!” He leans back into his seat again, eyeing my alpha-like pose before him, smirking as if it truly entertains him. As if he gets off on it.

I’m not okay without her. I need Dylan like I need air, but I chose to suffocate instead.

“So what do I do now?” I ask, exasperated. “I mean, what would Ross do?” he says. “Ross?” I contort my face. “Yeah, man. Ross. You know, he was obsessed with Rachel, always feeling as if he wasn’t good enough for a girl like her. But they were endgame, my dude. Endgame.”

But who we are in dark parking lots late at night says more about us than anything.

My car battery. It’s gone. “This is a secure underground parking garage!” I yell out to no one at all. “Shoulda got the Tundra.” I hear behind me.

“How did you get in here?” I ask. He doesn’t make eye contact as he approaches, just stares at my truck with the hood up. “I told the lady you were my Special Olympics coach,” he says, looking at my engine as his fingers twist and untwist before him. “Told her you were coach. Told her, and she believed me. People love people like me.” A scoff of disbelief leaves me. Well, I’ll be damned.

I open the shirt, seeing the team name printed across the chest in white. “The Canary Cowards.” My heart drops into my stomach. The team. Our team. “Team needs you!” he yells forward into the garage as he continues walking. “Team needs you.”

“All we have is this time right now. Time is always ticking away from us.”

I unwrap a new why-choose romance I’d gazed at a little too long at Target the other day. “Lake!” “I know, but I figured if there’s four of them, you’d have a harder time picking a favorite to crush on.” Oh, little do you know, sir.

It's definitely not easier to pick a fave!!! ugh, I love Reverse Harem's so much.