Page 4 of Hometown Hottie

2

CARSON

“Man, it’s weird being back,” Vance muttered as we walked into Moe’s, the best—and one of the only—bars in town. My friend screwed up his face as he looked around. “How does it look exactly the same as it did before we left? And how does it smell the same?”

“People around here don’t like change.” I clapped him on the shoulder and walked directly to the pitted wooden bar where I’d had my first ever legal beer. The same faded, US flag hung overhead, and the same glitchy TV was mounted on the wall over the bottles.

Unlike Vance though, I found it comforting that nothing had changed. It was familiar. Felt like home, which was exactly what we’d both come back here for—home. “Besides, you knew it hadn’t changed much. We were here for that weekend just last year.”

“To visit our parents, not to live with them,” he said as he drummed his fingers on the counter, looking around with a thoughtful expression on his face until he suddenly grinned. “You know what, though? It’s kind of nice knowing we’re not leaving again in a couple days. I think it’s just going to take a while to really accept that we’re back for good this time.”

“Agreed.” I ordered a pitcher of beer from the kid behind the bar. He did a double-take when he recognized us, but before I could ask if he wanted a selfie or something, he squeaked and rushed away.

Hopefully to get our beer.

Vance laughed. “I guess that’s one thing that’s changed. We’re real hometown heroes now. I don’t think we left the adoring crowds behind back in civilization.”

I rolled my eyes at him, in agreement with his assessment but not really wanting to talk about it. Vance and I were the only two players from our state who’d gone on to play in the NFL. We’d been teammates in high school but had gone to different colleges and had been drafted to different teams.

Over the years, we’d kept in touch and remained friends. Now we were both back home at the same time with the same mission. Retired and ready to slow down, we wanted to use our money to help the small town we loved, and we wanted to live out the rest of our days in the place we’d come from.

Escaping my hometown after high school had been great, but only for a while. These last few years had been exhausting and everything about life in the spotlight had gotten really, really old. For the past couple of years, Vance and I had both toyed with the idea of leaving the game with our dignity intact before we’d finally made the leap.

Now here we were, back home and with absolutely no concrete plans to fill our days. We’d figure it out, though. For now, I was just happy breathing in the stale beer scent of our beloved Moe’s and I was looking forward to calmer, quieter days with people who wanted me around for more than just my money.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” Ryan’s familiar voice rang out from behind us. His arms were spread as wide as his grin when I turned to look at him. Well over six feet, he was as tall as Vance and me, and also like us, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. His skin was deeply tanned from spending his days outside on the ranch and his dark brown hair was messy instead of styled. He took a few more steps forward, whistling as his gaze moved from one of us to the other. “Carson Drake and Vance Abrams. The NFL’s very own heartbreakin’ superstars are really back in the town, huh?”

Vance pumped his eyebrows at him. “Ready to break some hearts and take some⁠—”

“Don’t say it.” I smiled at my old buddy and accepted his hug, smacking him on the back a few times before I let go. “How’re you doing, man? It’s been a long time. They don’t have working phones around here anymore?”

Ryan chuckled. “The phones work, but so do we. Some of us weren’t just chasing balls and chasing tail and getting paid for it.”

Vance pretended to be shocked, pressing his hand to his chest and batting his eyelashes. “Well, I never. What are we doing here then, Drake? I thought we were coming for le good life. This doesn’t sound like that.”

Ryan laughed at our friend, giving him a back-thumping hug too. The squeaking kid brought over our pitcher of beer and two mugs. He looked between Vance and me with huge eyes, and I could practically see the stars in them until he glanced at Ryan.

The kid smiled. “What can I get you, Ry? Are you really with them?”

“Unfortunately,” he replied with that grin still on his face. “Thanks, Kevin. It looks like Carson’s already got us ready. Just grab me a mug.”

I cradled the pitcher close to my chest. “I don’t know what you guys are drinking, but this is for me.”

Vance patted his rock-hard stomach. “I’d watch the beer gut if I was you. If that’s what you’re after though, go for it.”

I sighed. “Fine, I’ll share.”

Kevin, the bartender kid, handed Ryan a frosty mug. Ryan thanked him and waved us to a booth near the pool tables that were in serious need of refelting. As we sat down, he frowned at us, the massive grin finally fading. “You two really back for good? I mean, I’m here, so I got your texts, but seriously? You’re home?”

Vance filled the glasses.

“Yep, we’re home for good,” I said. “It was time for us to bow out gracefully while we still could.”

“Gracefully, huh?” He lifted both his eyebrows at me. “When have you ever been graceful?”

I laughed and settled back into the booth with the plastic bench covers creaking under my ass when I moved. Damn, it’s good to be home.

The humor faded from Ryan’s eyes again as he looked back and forth between us. I spun my beer on the table in front of me, turning it slowly between my fingers before I leaned forward. “Out with it, Ryan. It’s been a while, but you know us so just speak freely.”