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CHASE
"You need to see this," Eric said, waking me up.
"Huh?" I said, groggy.
Eric held up his iPad. "It's Jess. She went public with Pax. She must've seen the pictures from the other night and flipped out."
He opened up her Instagram page and handed the tablet to me. There was picture after picture of Jess and Pax at some pool. Jess's silicon-enhanced assets were on full display, as was Pax's puffed-out chest. They were kissing in some of the pictures, their arms draped over each other. The taglines said "#reallove".
It looked as though I'd started a pissing contest with her, after all.
I put the iPad down and scrubbed my hands over my face, yawning. "Wes isn't going to be happy, but otherwise, I couldn’t give a fuck."
Eric was watching me thoughtfully. "I told you so."
"About which thing?"
"That hiring Avery was the right move." He sounded a little smug. "If you'd seen these pictures a week ago, you would've been a mess. Worried about what your teammates were going to say and how this was going to play out. But you're calm. I like you when you're calm."
"Gee, thanks."
He clapped me on the shoulder. "The point is, when you're calm that means you're in control. And that's what the Warriors need. Things are getting better, buddy. I told you so."
"You already told me that you told me so," I groaned, "so get out."
After he left, I couldn't go back to sleep. I sat on my bed, replaying the images from that night over and over in my head…again. What Eric said was true—I was calm about Jess and Pax's pictures, and this girl was the difference.
I just needed to figure out what that meant.
* * *
AVERY
"You look lovely," Chase said as I went out to meet him and Eric. He held out his big hand to me, smiling. What a difference forty-eight hours, five quarts of alcohol and a little pokey-pokey made. He was being positively civilized.
I was shaky from the conversation with my sister, but I tried to hide it as we headed out to an SUV waiting in the drive. The driver opened the door for us, and we piled in. "Kind of reminds me of the other night," Eric said. "Anybody want a drink?"
"No," Chase and I said at the same time.
Eric laughed. "You two. Cute." He gave me a quick, knowing glance that made me blush. Either Chase had told him that we'd spent the night together, or he'd seen enough at the club to guess.
"So," Eric said, turning to Chase. "We're looking at a couple of condos in the Leather District. Very trendy, modern, in up-and-coming buildings. I called the Gazette and a couple of the local sports blogs, so they know we're doing this. We should expect some coverage." He glanced through the back window, his glasses glinting in the sunlight. There was a line of cars pulling out after us, clogging the residential Wellesley street. "Looks like we already have some admirers."
Chase glanced out the window. "My neighbors must hate me."
"Your neighbors won't care, so long as you win the Super Bowl," Eric said. "So what we're looking for right now are two different things. First, we need to see if you actually want to live in one of these places. Second, we need to show you and Avery looking very much in love, like you're thrilled to be shopping for a home together. Are you two okay? Or are you still too hungover?"
"I'm fine," I said immediately. It's been an interesting couple of days. I'd finally been gloriously, properly fucked by star quarterback Chase Layne, who now says I don't ever have to 'service' him again…and he's currently sitting next to me with all of his big muscles bulging in plain sight, just out of my reach, taunting me and my lady parts. And speaking of being fucked, I'm about to be royally, unscrupulously fucked over by my blackmailing sister. Because apparently she doesn't care if I have to suck cock in order to buy her a pocketbook. But I'm fine, Eric, really! Thank you so much for asking. You and your stupid purple shots and your shiny designer glasses and your smug lack of a hangover…
"It's cool," Chase said, breaking my reverie. "but I think I'd also like to look at some of the Beacon Hill listings. Some of the more traditional stuff."
"But the Leather District is a hot market right now," Eric countered. "We're trying to show the public Chase Layne 2.0. A new and improved you with a trendy loft and a hot, new girlfriend."
"But vintage Chase doesn't want to live in a loft with exposed pipes. He likes classic," Chase said and laughed. "And he's paying for it, so he gets a say."
"Don't talk about yourself in the third person," Eric warned. "You know I hate it when you do that."
A grin spread over Chase's face. "Chase Layne wouldn't do that to you."
