all american | lance tucker

ch. 19 • haircut

It was my dream job. More personalized work, training Olympic athletes. An Olympic coach.

Oh my god. This was real.

My dream job. A chance in a lifetime.

I put my hand to my mouth, and just sat there, staring at the screen. I could do this. I could really do this. But nowhere did it say "job for Lance included." Which meant I would be moving across the country from everything I had. Away from everyone I loved. No way would Lance let me take the kids with me.
Fuck.

I couldn't help it. I just stared at the words. For a long time. Imagine. I couldn't. Having a job where I could actually enjoy myself, and be a part of the olympics again. Something I wished so badly for. But in the back of my mind, I knew I couldn't have it, but I still wanted it. So badly. This was something I most likely wouldn't get again, and it pained me to know there was a 99% chance I would have to pass it up.
So for the next few days, I mulled it over. Leave, or stay in a place where, quite honestly, I was miserable.

I had stayed in New York my whole life, only because of work, and family. I had never lived anywhere else. A move to Los Angeles would be life changing. Hell, I was still mid-twenties. I could do whatever I wanted. The problem was, I needed to do what was best for the kids, not me. And what's best for the kids was not moving to LA.
Fuck. Looks like I was screwed.

Finally, after almost two and a half weeks of being gone, Lance had finally decided he was ready to come home, and he was sporting a new haircut. This was odd to me, because Lance adores his hair. Like, a freakish amount. He'd had it the same way the whole time I'd known him, semi long and always slicked. But when he walked into the house, his hair was much shorter, and there appeared to be no product in it at all. He also seemed to be...growing out a beard? I raised my eyebrows, just staring at him.

"What the fuck happened to you?" I teased, his new appearance weirding me out. He mocked my laugh.

"Ha ha. So funny. I changed it up a little bit. Get off my ass." He snapped. The girls came running to him, and he hugged them both tightly.

"Well, I like it. Ten years of your intense hair obsession has been too long." I sighed. "How was Dallas?"

"Ugh, I don't want to talk about it. Southern people are psychopaths. Head of directors in Texas rode a horse to work everyday. I'm not kidding." He groaned. I grinned.

"Glad you had to go, and not me."

"Were the kids good for you?" He asked, setting the girls down. I shot a quick, sour glance at Aria, but just as fast met his eyes again.

"We can talk about that later. Along with some other things." I muttered. He looked confused, but didn't press the matter further. After he had unpacked, eaten, and showered, I could finally relax. Now, I didn't have to do everything myself anymore. After he was out, he beckoned me to follow him into his room, closing the door behind me. He leaned against it, crossing his arms.

"What happened?" He sighed. I raised an eyebrow.

"I never said anything happened." I said, confused. He rolled his eyes.

"You said 'we can talk about that later.' That means you didn't want to say it in front of the kids." He explained. Oh. Duh.

"We were in the car, and Aria was throwing this huge fit because apparently you're 'so much better' than me, and I told her to stop, and she told me I wasn't even her real mom." I said. The memory still hurt my feelings a little bit. He looked taken aback.

"She did? God, I should really keep a tighter grasp on how much she knows about Maggie." He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes momentarily.

"It doesn't matter. I'm over it." I laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. "Plus, she's only five. What does she know anyways?"

"I missed you." He changed the subject, and I was honestly glad. Get him in a good mood before I dropped the bomb on him. I smiled, sitting up again.

"I missed you too. A lot." I admitted, looking over him. His body was relaxed, but his face was creased with worry. Worry over me.

"I shouldn't have left you alone for so long. Hopefully you can go on the next trip, and I'll stay here with the kids." He sighed.

"It wasn't that bad, you know. Just a few minor inconveniences." I brushed it off. I left out the part where I felt both mentally and physically exhausted for both weeks. "So, like, is the hair thing permanent?"

"Well fuck you very much." He said sarcastically. "No, this is a wig. Why?"

"I think you look cute." I teased, waving my finger at him. He crossed the room, standing in front of me with his arms still crossed.

"Laugh it up." He snapped. "I change my hair for the first time in ten years and all of a sudden I'm 'cute.' Well, news flash, I don't want to be cute so suck my dick."

"So aggressive. That sounds like pent up sexual tension." I said, feigning sympathy. His eyes spiked with interest. The word sex was like a duck call, except for Lance. He laid down on the bed, closing his eyes.

"Yeah, well maybe it is. I haven't had sex in two weeks." He mentioned offhandedly. I had a feeling that was a lie, but I played his game anyways.

"Oh, you poor baby." I cooed, laying down next to him and turning to face him. He put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me up against him.

"And like...you're the only person that can solve that problem." He explained, staring at my lips. This boy, I swear.

"Mhmm." I purred, ghosting my lips over his.

"That's what I thought." He was the one to actually kiss me, pushing the back of my head towards him. He slowly made his way on top of me, his elbows supporting him. No, no. I still had to talk to him about LA. But we were kissing, and he was distracting me, until suddenly it just burst out.

"I'm moving to LA." I blurted, my lips still against his. He paused, his body frozen.

"I'm sorry-" he sat back on his knees, basically sitting on top of me, "-what the fuck did you just say?" His eyes were bewildered, but they were about to turn angry once I explained myself. I could already feel it.