“The Riptide isn’t even heading back to California,” Ramsey had explained when Nate had wondered how that might work, considering that teams usually expected their players, especially star defensive ends, to travel with the team right after the game. “They play Buffalo next week, in Buffalo, so they’re just stayingon the east coast. They can just take a different flight, meet the team in New York.”
That had been the only excuse Nate could come up with for why it might not be a great idea. The general concept didn’t bother him; in fact, he was surprisingly interested to meet this ex-hockey playing best friend of Ramsey’s who’d quit playing to become a doctor. But the fact that the ex-hockey playing best friend was dating one of the best defensive players in the NFL? Nate hadn’t been entirely sure he’d want to sit down and break bread with Dean Scott, no matter how the game went.
They’d greeted each other fine, meeting up in the shadowed restaurant atrium, exchanginggreat gamesand Brody insisting on hugging Nate, which had made Ramsey hiss at least one semi-serious threat under his breath.
It was only then that Ramsey had realized Wes had decided he wouldn’t show up to dinner.
Brody winced as they were shown to their table. “He said he was tired and that he’d grab breakfast with us tomorrow morning, before we fly out. I think . . .I think it might have been too much for him.”
“He could’ve told me,” Ramsey argued.
Nate and Dean had ended up pulling up the rear as Brody and Ramsey tipped their heads together to discuss, as they called it,the Wes Problem.
Nate was used to exchanging, at the bare minimum, generic small talk with other players, but he hadn’t been sure what to expect of Dean.
Then Dean turned to him and said, “I hope your rookie, Atkinson, doesn’t beat himself up too much about that play.”
For a second, Nate didn’t know how to react or what to say. He bristled, a little instinctively, at the reminder that the Riptide had won and the Thunder had lost, but then that was swept awayentirely by gratitude that Dean gave a shit about the feelings of one of the players on Nate’s team.
Specifically the player that Nate had been trying to mentor, but Dean couldn’t possibly know that.
“I hope so too,” Nate said quietly, shooting Dean a look that hopefully spoke volumes about his gratitude.
“Hard to be a rookie,” Dean said, voice gruff. “’Course, you guys are a great unit. Veteran. Solid. You’re doing a great job with him.”
It felt bitter on Nate’s tongue as he admitted, “Not good enough.”
But Dean just shrugged. “Sometimes it takes time. Sometimes it takes something like today to remind a guy of what they need to do.”
Nate didn’t want to say that it was instead more likely that Jordan would spiral—either on or off the field, or possiblyboth—but that was his gut feeling.
“Hopefully,” Nate said as the hostess led them to the private room that Ramsey had reserved. Over the last week he’d rotated through four or five possible restaurants before finally settling on this one. Nate had asked him one night why the actual restaurant mattered so much, but hadn’t known how to answer when Ramsey had admitted this was his first double date and he just wanted it to be perfect.
Nate took a seat next to Ramsey, Ramsey reaching out and squeezing his thigh. “Hey,” he said in a low voice, “is Jordan okay?”
“I don’t know,” Nate admitted, and that was the best-case scenario.
He’d tried talking to Jordan right after the game but Sterling had gotten to him first, and that meant that by the time Nate had arrived on the scene, Jordan had been intractable and taciturn. Not interested in talking.
He’d worried, at first, that he might need to cancel this dinner and babysit the guy, to keep him from going off the rails, but then he’d disappeared and hadn’t answered any of Nate’s texts.
He hoped that meant he’d go to the Wild Leopard or one of his other favorite strip clubs, spend too much money on private dancers in the champagne room, maybe blow even more cash on some top shelf booze, and call it good. That wasn’t ideal, but he wouldn’t get intotoomuch trouble that way.
“I just wanna say,” Brody said, after they’d ordered drinks and an appetizer, “this isveryexciting for us.” He nudged Dean, who echoed much less enthusiastically.
“Babe,” Brody said, shooting him a look.
“What? I’m confused. Are we excited that Ramsey’s finally stopped hitting it and quitting it or that when he did, he picked another football player?”
“Yes,” Brody said triumphantly.
Ramsey made a scoffing noise, but he did admit, “That’s fair. I knew you two would enjoy a good laugh at my expense so it’s good we’re getting it out of the way quick.”
“Well,Iknew that it was gonna take someone special to tame our favorite wild child, so I’m personally not that surprised—”
Brody probably would’ve kept going, but Nate had felt Ramsey stiffen next to him, and franklyhedidn’t like that either.
Time to say so.
