Darryl Jackson sucked mighty horse balls when it came to the art of trash talking.

"What's the matter old man? Arthritis settin' in?" he taunted, prancing about like an untrained, overzealous puppy.

Sweat dripped from my temple and I dribbled the ball, watching him like a hawk. I was trailing behind by two points and he was rubbing it in my face.

I made a move to crossover to the right but ended up lunging to the left instead. Darryl caught on quick, blocking my path. I swore under my breath as he stole the ball right out from under me, making his way down towards the other side of the court.

He dodged my first attempt to swipe the ball back, but I got him the second time around, blocking his shot and stealing his ball.

I got into position at the three-point line, Darryl breathing down my neck. I gave it everything I had, watching the ball shoot up into the air, forming a perfect arc towards the hoop. It circled the rim once... twice...

"Oh!" I chanted, raising my fist in the air, spinning around on the heels of my sneakers and smirking at the younger man. "I'd say not too bad for an old man," I grinned, patting Darryl on the back, smirking. "Nice try though... A+ for effort."

"You got lucky," Darryl chuckled as we made our way towards the rickety picnic table on the edge of the court. Darryl searched through his gym bag and pulled out a water bottle.

The women were at this yoga class - or was it Pilates? Something fancy like that - for expecting mothers, so we had to entertain ourselves without them for a while. So we ended up making our way to the park for a pick-up game. It was dusk on a Thursday, so there weren't very many people around.

Two kids were hanging out on the swings when we arrived, but they left not long after. A gaggle of teenagers were being rowdy on the monkey bars now, but they were far enough away and weren't paying us any mind.

"Are ya doin' anythin' for Valentine's Day?" I asked suddenly.

"Why? Are you askin' me out?" Darryl chuckled.

"In your dreams," I shook my head, taking a long swig of water from my water bottle and screwing the cap back on.

"I don't know what we're doin' yet... but I'm gonna figure somethin' out. Maisy's not really into the celebratin' though... says it's just commercialized bullshit, which I got to admit is totally true," he shrugged.

"Yeah... Carly said she doesn't mind if we don't do anythin', but I'm havin' trouble figurin' out if that's code for: you better do somethin' real damn special, you asshole, or else I'll hate you forever... or if she legitimately does wanna stay home and just... I don't know... watch a movie," I told him.

"Play it safe, go all out," Darryl smirked.

"I usually do," I smirked.

I had to go to Dallas again for a few short hours the next morning, which gave me some time to think about Valentine's Day a little more and figure out something special to do. It was Friday, so my day was cut a little shorter than usual, which meant I'd be able to get home early enough to help Carly around the ranch a little before dinner.

I only had two more months before the end of the semester, which meant two more months of this back-and-forth traveling before I'd start working for Darryl's father. I had another semester in the fall to complete after that, but by December they'd finally hand me my certificate, which I was really looking forward to.

I didn't like school. I never liked school.

When you're a young kid with a story like mine, it's hard to fit in, and when you're shy and awkward like I was, it makes you prime target for bullies. I had a tough time. I used to dread going to school in the mornings and that sure as hell didn't help me get good grades. I was that kid at the back of the class, trying mighty hard not to be noticed by the teachers. I wasn't a dumb... although I don't know how many times I was told I was. I remember this one time, I got to my foster parents' - I can't call it home - house with a bad report card and got hell for it by my foster father.

At the time I didn't think I'd ever feel as worthless in my life. I did though, numerous times, which makes the whole damn thing sadder.

Nah, school never came easy to me, which is probably why I dropped out of college in my early twenties to join up with the army. I started at eighteen like everybody else, not a clue what I wanted to be. How are you supposed to know who you are at that age? How are you supposed to know what you want to do for the next sixty-some-odd years? I didn't, so I went with an undecided major, and in my sophomore year chose mechanical engineering, figuring it had to be similar to working in an auto shop.

I burnt myself out. It just wasn't for me, and after failing two classes I decided to fuck it all to hell. It wasn't worth it.

So I enlisted.

You talk to a recruiter, they assess you physically and mentally, but they don't tell you what you're really getting into, what you'll be coming home to once your contract ran out or if you found yourself injured. I once sliced a man's throat to keep him breathing, and I knew exactly what to do to re-inflate a lung, or how to fasten tourniquets on shredded limbs. I was damn good out there in the field, but here I'm nothing. The military doesn't fully document our skills and what we've been trained to do, so when you get back to civilian life, there's a whole lot of shit you've got to go through just to make a living.

It was aggravating, knowing I was paying for training in a skill I was already more than qualified to perform, and that I still had almost a year to go before I could even look for a job in my field.

"Hey bro, you doin' anythin' tonight?" one of the guys in my program asked, cornering me as we were making our way out of the lab after class. He was a lot younger than I was, probably even younger than Carly - eighteen, nineteen? He had one of those ridiculous man-buns and a serious beard going on.

"Why?" I asked dumbly, too caught off-guard not to be socially awkward.

"There's this party at Cameron's-" He was another guy from the program. "-and a lot of us are gonna be there, so if you wanna tag along..." he shrugged.

I actually laughed out loud at the invitation, which was probably mighty insulting for him. I was a thirty-one year-old man with a fiancée at home and a child on the way in less than four months. There was no way in hell I was going to some frat party.

"Thanks for the invite bro, but I think I'll pass," I chuckled.

When I got outside I fished my phone out of my pocket and sent Carly a text, letting her know I was on my way back. I told her about the frat party I was invited to by a guy almost half my age, which I was sure would crack her up.

You're going to be home by two, right?

I was in my truck when I got her text, about to drive off. I sent her a quick reply with the affirmative, so long as traffic didn't bite me in the ass.

Why? You miss me? ;)

She only took a few seconds to reply.

Of course I do, every second you're not here lol. No, I'm asking because I have to run some errands real quick and there's a guy coming for an interview at 2:30, I don't know if I'll be back by then.

Ah, so she wanted me to be the welcoming community.

OK I'll try to hurry. Love ya

There was a short pause before Carly's text came through. I was backing out of the parking lot at that point and, waiting to turn onto the busy street, I snuck a glance at my phone again.

Don't get arrested!

I chuckled and started driving, heading back home.

A/N: A bit of a filler, sorry it's not too exciting. We're exploring the inner workings of John's mind a little though, so hope you enjoyed that.

As a side note, I'd like to thank you guys again for all of your support on this story. LTH ranked for the first time today at #999, in romance no less, which is amazing! Thank you! xx