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"What's going on?" he asked. "You forget how to throw a football?"
"No. I think I just suck today."
Reggie shook his head. "What are you, hungover?"
"No."
"You stay up too late with that beautiful girlfriend of yours?"
I shrugged, feeling grim.
"Whoa. Seriously, what's your problem?" Reggie looked alarmed. "Is Pax coming back or something?"
I groaned. "Jesus. I hope not."
"So what's up?"
I tossed the football up and caught it, and then I did it again. And again. "Avery's a hooker." I threw Reggie the ball.
Reggie seemed to consider the football for a moment and then lobbed it back to me. "For real? They have hookers that look like that?" Reggie had been married for over twenty years. He appeared baffled.
I nodded. "For real. Eric hired her so that Jessica and Pax wouldn't make mincemeat out of me in the press and ruin my season. Our season."
Reggie motioned for the ball and I threw it to him. "So is she a hooker…or is she your girlfriend?"
"She's a hooker. And she's also my girlfriend." I shrugged. "Maybe my ex-girlfriend."
Reggie scowled at me. "She was your hooker first, and then she was your girlfriend. But now she's your ex-girlfriend. Got it."
"That's right. I think it is, anyway."
"You don't seem happy. So what're you going to do about it?"
"I don't know what I'm doing about it," I admitted.
Reggie jogged toward me and tossed me the ball. "But you're doing something about it." He seemed pretty sure of himself.
"Definitely." I swallowed hard. "But I'm worried that the press is going to find out about her."
Reggie nodded and caught another pass easily. "Of course they will."
I searched my friend's face. "Does it make me a dick that I'm worried about what's going to happen to my reputation?"
"Naw," Reggie said, ever loyal. "It only makes you a dick if you leave that poor girl because you're worried about it. If you really fell in love with her, and you're man enough to face her past, to me, you're a fucking hero." He grinned. "You're my hero, anyway."
"If I haven't told you lately, Reggie, you always make my day."
Reggie ran out for another long pass. After he caught it, he bowed to me. "You're Chase Layne, for Christ's sake. Nothing to be ashamed of. Show everyb
ody what you got. If you're cool, they'll be cool. Right?"
There was a reason Reggie had been married for over twenty years. He knew when to grease the wheel, and he knew how to love someone after he'd seen the cracks in their pavement.
"Right," I called.
* * *
The next phone call I made was to Tennessee. To Pax.
