The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs 2)

“You’re my first.”

“Your first what?”

“You’re all my firsts. Relax,” he whispers, kissing my cheek before nuzzling my neck.

“Who knew you would be such a romantic.”

His eyes fill with pride. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“It’s a great thing. By the way, my sweater is almost out of cologne.”

He chuckles. “On it.” As we dance, I sink into his hold, the words hitting hard, resonating deep. The wind kicks up, but I stay comfortable in the warmth emanating from him.

When the next song starts to play, Troy grips my ass, pulling me close, thighs nestled between mine, our dancing bordering indecent as he moves us to the beat of the bass. I shake my head, still feeling the eyes on our backs but give into him, dancing along.

It’s when the man begins to sing that all my bells go off and my heart does a somersault. “Oh, my God!”

Troy continues to rock with me in his arms as I bang on his biceps.

“Troy! Oh, my God! It’s the SONG! TROY! It’s the song!”

Tears flood my eyes, and as I begin to move back and forth with him, emotions running rampant, I’m a hysterical mix of laughter and tears as we sway to the music.

“This is it!” I shout

happily through my tears as he cups the back of my head and peers down at me with a blinding smile.

“I hoped it was…listen,” he lifts a finger, “right…here…Ahhhhh, baby!” He sings to me as I burst into laughter due to his animation.

“You found it,” I say, shaking my head. And then we’re dancing, in the freezing cold, in a car wash off the side of a Texas highway. I couldn’t care less who’s watching as I cling to him, swaying my hips, a mess of emotion. Troy pulls me closer, kissing the cold tears from my face. When the song ends, I shake my head repeatedly, more tears spilling over. I’m sure I’m a spectacle, but I can’t stop the shake in my voice.

“How, how did you figure it out?” I ask, my heart beating a mile a minute.

“The picture.”

“The picture?”

“The one of you and your mom you showed me. On the back, it said: My baby & me, AG 5.”

“I always thought it meant age five.”

“No,” he says, pushing the hair off my shoulders, “It’s called “Tired of Being Alone,” by Al Green.”

“Wow. I’m just…Troy, this is everything.”

“I can’t take all the credit. Theo is a maestro, and he helped me figure it out. It was a long shot, but I listened to his greatest hits and could only find one song that would make me crack a smile in the middle. You said there was that one part that always made you laugh.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that.”

He stops his movements, cupping my face. “I’ve memorized you, Clarissa, the shape of your lips, the lilt of your voice, your every smile, every mood, your everything. I used to think it was because I’ve grown so used to watching because of Dante,” he wipes another tear from my cheek, “but it’s not just our son, baby, it’s you. He wasn’t the only one I was falling for.”

I shake my head incredulous, my heart exploding with his sentiment. “This is…I can’t believe it. It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. You, you gave me a piece of my childhood back. Thank you,” I kiss his jaw, his nose, his neck over and over as he holds me close. “You have no idea what this means to me.” I kiss him again and again, my heart soaring. “I’m so thankful. You have no idea how much.”

“I think I’m getting a good idea,” he manages through the rain of affection as I run my kisses along his jaw.

I look up to him, and he searches my eyes, his alight with raw happiness at my reaction. I can feel the shake in his limbs as my heart speeds up. Troy’s lips seal over my mouth before he deepens our kiss. Clinging to each other, his tongue strokes mine, seeking, exploring, while I melt in his embrace. This kiss just as powerful as our last and the kiss before, but behind it, I feel more than I imagined possible. My body sinks into him, and he grips the back of my head, plunging his tongue over and over until we’re breathless.

“Take me home and ravage me, superstar.”