Page 37 of Playing for Love

“Maybe you are in love with her?”

“Not like that. More like someone you’ve gone through things with, done some growing up together. Not enough to build a marriage on. Believe me. I know what kind of commitment that takes. My mom and dad are good examples.”

I immediately regretted the words, reminding Hunter of his parents. When he lost his father a few years back he’d found out that his old man had a second family in Alaska that he hadn’t mentioned to Hunter’s mother—or to Hunter.

“Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to—”

“No worries. I don’t begrudge you having awesome parents,” he said. But the way his face shut down I knew he wasn’t over the devastation of his father’s betrayal. Not completely.

“Most of all,” I said, “I don’t know when or if I’d ever be ready for that kind of commitment to a woman. But I know it’s not now. Or anytime soon.” That’s what scared me the most about ending it with Denise. I’d be vulnerable to the temptation of Mia. And that would be no good. Because I didn’t want to hurt her. And I didn’t want to let go of my commitment to football.

“That right there is your problem,” Hunter said. He took his last sip of beer.

“Tell me about it.” I stood. I’d indulged enough time and energy on this emotional crap. What I really needed to do was throw all my energy into football where it belonged. But I had no intentions of being a monk. Surely I could find a woman who was okay with a casual relationship in this town.

“Does Cat have any friends who are decent human beings and yet commitment-phobic?”

He laughed. “I know she has some hot friends.”

“That’s a start.” I smiled because he was a good friend. Not because I felt okay about anything else right now.

That wasn’t a good sign. Because in spite of Tate’s injury, the team was jelling well and the prospects for our repeat looked better than fifty-fifty. That there should be cause enough for a big fat grin. Focus, Wyatt. Focus on what matters. Football, family, and friends. In that order. Maybe a lady friend at some point.

As I drove Hunter back to his car, my mind attempted to wander back to Mia, trying to fit her into the friend category, trying to keep her away from the lady friend category, and I had to shut it down, kill all thoughts of her. Purge her, Wyatt. Do it now.

Hunter got out of my car almost before I stopped, then leaned down at the open door. I wasn’t sure he was going to talk. He wasn’t a big talker.

But then he said, “Maybe you should try being friends with Mia. See how that works.” He slammed the door closed, slapped the roof, and took off.

There hadn’t been enough light to read the expression on his face, but I could swear he sounded serious, or tried to. But it wasn’t like him to give advice. Plus, it was the worst advice I’d ever heard. He was not a people person. That was my specialty. And I knew better. There was no friendship zone for me and Mia.

But you could try. See how that goes.