The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs 2)

“That has to be the hottest fucking MILF in the state of Texas.”

Kevin drops my mattress choking just as I withdraw my hand from a swift blow to his throat.

I’m an impulsive man by nature, but that nature has to change if I’m going to stick in the mind and heart of my son. It’s my first order of business as a new father to keep those impulses in check. Kevin is my first fail.

Oops.

“What the,” he coughs out, trying to regain his breath as I lift my mattress and leave him kneeling on the grass.

I know I don’t have a chance in hell of a repeat of the night my son was conceived, but I have to admit it’s been hard watching her over the years and wondering what if I hadn’t fucked up. The truth is, she was out of my league then, and even if I hadn’t lied, I wouldn’t have had a shot due to her job and the age difference. She was a teacher, and I was a teenager. If I’d started with the truth, she would have laughed me out of the bar, not to mention blown my cover. I’d been tossing back suds after hard days for a year at that place. I had the calloused hands of a hard-working man and the bills and responsibilities to go with it, so I had absolutely no issues bending the law or the rules to take the edge off. The edge of a life my mother had so tirelessly tried to pave smooth for the both of us.

My looks were deceiving then, and I’d used them to my advantage. Life never really had been fair to the Jenners, so my ‘fuck it’ mentality was par for the course. It seemed a harmless lie that night. Clarissa had been on the prowl. It’d been easy to tell the minute she stepped up to the bar and ordered a martini in her little black skirt. Once our eyes met and she took the seat next to me with a knowing smirk, there was no turning back, at least not for me. We were both clear it was a hookup. Never in a million years did I think it would bring us to this point, and neither did she. But the truth is, ‘all in good fun’ sometimes comes with serious consequences, and I’ve been careful since not to let any of my hookups go too far without making myself crystal fucking clear.

I know that my verbiage at times may be a bit harsh with the ladies, I can see it in the faces of the women

I bed. That, in and of itself, has given me my reputation. But I live with my guilt, and my regret daily, so the words tend to come easy when it’s time to speak up.

I fuck like there is no tomorrow because there isn’t. My plans are ball and making a connection with my boy. That’s my future. That and making sure my mother never has to work again. Pamela Jenner gave me a life, the best life she could having had me at age seventeen, and marrying my piece of shit father on a whim a few years later to make her family seem legitimate. The only relief she got out of that union was the day Dad slammed the door shut with his departure.

So far, the love of my life has been an inanimate object, a pigskin ball, and the feel of it in my hands as I fly toward the end zone. Clarissa is right to be leery of me for what I’ve done, though I’m capable of more. But since that day at school, I’ve been hard-pressed to aim for more than playing pro ball.

That day changed my life in more ways than one. It was my wake-up call. The first lesson that Clarissa unknowingly taught me was that no one with a hard life has a free pass to be reckless, careless, or heartless in any situation.

And even though I’m here by the skin of my teeth, I can’t resist egging her on. She’d been watching me for a good five minutes before I called her on it. That’s been our game for six years. Old habits die hard, and the only reason I caught her is because I’d been looking her way myself. I can’t think, for one second, this is a mistake. I won’t. But every move I make has to be the right one.

After lugging the mattress up to my bedroom, Kevin and I stick it on the frame before he leaves me to unpack. After sorting half my shit, I sneak a look through my blinds to see Dante playing in his room. In about five minutes, Clarissa is going to walk in and have him read her a story. Last year it was just the opposite. My son reads now. I’m not sure on what level, but he’s getting pretty good at it because he finishes the books in record time compared to how long it used to take him. He’s so smart, my son.

My son.

He wasn’t a mistake. I refuse to believe it. I will be whatever he needs.

For my son.

It’s time to be a father.

Theresa’s Pulled Pork

Legal Assistant, Dallas

Makes 6 servings

6-8 hours (in slow cooker)

2 Lb. Pork Roast

1 12 Oz. Bottle Root Beer or Dr Pepper

1 Bottle Barbecue Sauce (I like Sweet Baby Ray’s sauce)

Place the pork roast in a slow cooker and pour the Root Beer or Dr Pepper over the meat.

Cover and cook on low until well cooked and the pork shreds easily (usually 6-7 hours but may vary depending on the slow cooker and size of roast).

Drain well. Shred and return to slow cooker. Stir in the barbecue sauce and continue to cook on low until sauce is heated.

Serve on hamburger buns.

Hawaiian buns are great with this. Also, a side of coleslaw and Southern Style potato salad make a really great meal.