Page 79 of The Tryout

“You two look pretty exhausted, though. Why don’t we find our own way to the airport in the morning so you can sleep in?”

Oh, thank God. Their flight is an early one so Pops has enough time to prepare for the workweek after they arrive home. I certainly wasn’t looking forward to waking up at the crack of dawn to take them.

“You sure?”

Dad nods.

“Absolutely. We’ll use the hotel shuttle, not a problem at all. You good for tonight?”

I can tell he wants to mother hen me, like he did after my surgery. I’m grateful he holds himself back, although I wonder how long it will last.

Finn walks up from behind me, two bags of ice in his hands.

“C’mon. We’re going home.”

Looking at him, Dad smiles.

“You heard him, Avery. Time to go home.”

The next morning, we’re lying on the sofa again. Well, still – we ended up falling asleep here last night. The ice and Advil have done their job, and I woke up feeling much better than when I fell asleep. On my phone, a few messages sit unread.

Tony Lawson 5:58 AM

We’re at the airport, thanks for having us!

Daniel Lawson 6:02 AM

Tell Finn it was nice to meet him.

Does he want to come to California for Christmas?

I try not to think too much about that last text – both what would have made Dad offer and, even more importantly, whether Finn might actually want that.

Speaking of Finn, his head is in my lap and his lips still pink from a blowjob. He wasn’t joking about getting his turn, and has really jumped right in. Can’t say that I’m complaining. Laying here, lazy and satisfied as I stroke his hair and he dozes lightly, I can’t really think of a better way to spend a lazy afternoon.

I’m scrolling through Instagram when I hear a buzzing. Realizing it must be Finn’s phone, I gently nudge his shoulder.

“Finn? Someone’s calling you.”

His eyes flutter open, slightly unfocused. After blinking once or twice, he grabs the phone out of his pocket, a divot appearing between his eyebrows when he looks at the screen. Clearing his throat, he answers.

“Hello, Coach?”

Coach? What is he doing calling Finn at two thirty in the afternoon on a Sunday? We’ll see him in less than eighteen hours.

Whatever it is must be important, as Finn’s head shoots up, eyes searching my own. In his gaze, I see shock mixed with a little…fear?

“Um, I could be there soon, I guess? I’d need to pack?”

Pack? Where is he going?

“Let me check?”

He mutes the call and looks at me again.

“They…they want me in Minneapolis. Tonight.”

After assuring Coach that he’ll be able to make the five-thirty flight, we start the mad rush to get Finn ready and to the airport. I push him into the shower while I start packing; no use wasting time. He doesn’t have any great bags for plane travel, so I pull out my own carry on.