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Trent
“You look awfully upset for a man whose team just won the first game in the season,” Rex teases over the jarring clinking of shot glasses, lively chatter, and other booming sounds that occupy Roy’s bar—the Boston Guardians’ favorite hangout after a win.
“Who says I’m upset? I knew they would win.”
“Fine. Maybe upset is the wrong word to define how you look right now. I’d sayenragedsuits you better.”
“And why would I be enraged, old man?” I counter through gritted teeth, turning my back on the source of my anger in favor of facing my friend. “I have nothing to be enraged or upset about. I could not be more pleased with how the day has turned out. Our team beat Detroit’s ass just like I knew they would. The only headline I’ll read about Wilder in the papers tomorrow is how he eviscerated the Devil’s offensive line. The suits you invited to the game are now drooling at the mouth, dying to buy the team from you. All I see are reasons for celebration.”
“True, true,” he repeats with a nod. “I just couldn’t help but notice the scowl on your face, so I assumed it had something to do with others being in a celebratory mood for their own personal reasons,” he says while his knowing gaze wanders over my shoulder towards the bar where Lawrence—or Laurie, as he prefers to be called—is sitting next to Piper, looking like he’s having a grand old time.
Ever since the game ended, they’ve become joined at the hip, even leaving the arena together to come to Roy’s for the aftergame celebration.
“It’s a party, Rex. That’s what people do. They party and get to know people.”
“Is that so?” he taunts. “Then why aren’t you celebrating?”
“I like to celebrate in other ways,” I smirk before taking a swig of my whiskey.
“Oh, I’m very aware of the ways you like tocelebrate.” He chuckles. “And by the looks of it, our new business acquaintance is in agreement with your preferred method ofcelebration.”
I turn around in an instant and see Piper’s head fall back in laughter at something Laurie said.
“I don’t like him,” I state evenly, turning my back once again to the infuriating pair.
“Oh?” Rex goads. “Is your offense with young Lawrence for being younger, richer, more sophisticatedly educated than you, or because he’s making the moves on the girl you’ve been pining over for close to two years now?”
“You and Roxanne gossip like two old maids, you know that?” I drink the rest of my whiskey in one full swig.
Rex just shrugs, not one bit ashamed that he and the good doctor have been talking about my personal life behind my back. “What can I say? We’ve come to enjoy living vicariously through you, dear friend. Your problems amuse us much more than ours.”
“Funny.”
“I thought so.” He beams. “So, what are you going to do? Just stand here all night putting up with an old fart like me while British Prince Charming sweeps your girl off her feet?”
“First of all,Laurie,” I pronounce the name with bitter distaste, “is not British. He was born and bred here. Therefore, he’s as Bostonian as I am.”
“Beacon Hill and Roxbury are not the same thing, but I get your drift,” Rex interjects.
“Secondly,” I interrupt, ignoring his side commentary, “Piper isn’t the type of woman easily swayed by a pretty face.”
“I can see that. If she were, she would have fallen for your charms years ago,” Rex piles on, chuckling at my expense.
“And lastly, Lawrence Preston III is no fucking prince charming,” I growl. “He might shine like gold, but my instincts tell me there’s more to him than meets the eye. Let’s not forget his pompous jackass father. I wouldn’t be surprised if the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Piper’s a smart woman. If he’s all show and no real depth, she’ll see through his facade easily enough.”
“High praise coming from you.” Rex grins. “However, I did notice how you didn’t correct me when I inferred she was your girl.”
“Woman,” I correct him.
“Very well, woman.” He chuckles. “I’m curious why that is?”
“Because,” I say, smiling mischievously, “there’s nothing to correct.”
“Aha, I see.” Rex nods. “And does she know that?”
“You can say she’s struggling to accept it,” I mumble, grabbing the whiskey bottle and pouring myself another shot.
“That’s apparent. I can tell she’s really struggling with it just by how young Preston tries to console her by putting his hand on her thigh.”
