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There was commotion in the background, obviously Sean objecting to her statement. She laughed. “Stop, Sean. I don’t owe you a blowjob for a meal in a restaurant where I’m assistant chef. Your negotiation skills are terrible.”
The banter depressed me. I wanted to banter about blowjobs with a guy. With Brandon. I mentally groaned. “Sure, I’d love that. Just tell me what time.” I did not need to be sitting around my apartment feeling sorry for myself.
“Seven?”
“Perfect. I’ll see you later. I need to get dressed. I’m still in my shower towel.”
We said our goodbyes. I did need to put on real clothes.
But instead, I spent the next thirty minutes trying various combinations of the digits on the envelope Brandon had left.
After getting lots of “who is this?” texts back and a belligerent woman telling me to fuck off, there were only two possible conclusions.
Either I had mysteriously become dyslexic overnight and was misinterpreting the numbers or Brandon had given me a fake.
I didn’t want to believe that. I clung to the hope that it wasn’t true, given that the area code was a Seattle one. Yep. I looked it up.
That’s when I knew I’d gone too far. I was trying to justify and sleuth my way to an explanation.
The reality was it didn’t matter.
I wasn’t going to see Brandon again.
Donut number four basically winked at me seductively. I picked it up and flicked my tongue across the glaze. “It’s just you and me, kid,” I told it. “How sad is this?”
Turns out I was totally wrong.
Brandon wasn’t perfect.
Chapter Six
Six Months Later
“How does it feel to be back in uniform?” Jessica asked me.
“It actually feels really good,” I told her. We were in the tunnel ready to run out onto the field for the first home game of the football season.
When I had second thoughts in the winter about having quit, I had called the cheer coach, but she’d let me know I’d missed auditions for the upcoming season. But then one of the girls blew out her knee and the alternate who had been practicing with them got arrested for driving under the influence, so Coach Teri had called me because I knew all the regular routines. I just needed to quickly learn some new choreography she had created for the season and here I was, back at it.
I needed both the cash and the boost to my confidence.
The last six months had been rough. Worse than rough. An absolute complete and utter disaster. I was barely making it financially and I had destroyed the remnants of my savings account. My rent was almost three months behind and even my general optimism was feeling a little bruised.
Being back with the girls was a huge lift to my mood.
Jessica had been on the team for three years. We had started at the same time and she was easy to get along with. She was also insanely beautiful and talented and looked way better in her uniform than I did. “You look amazing,” I said. The contrast of the white uniform with her dark skin tone was stunning. “I feel like I’ve gained five pounds. My gut looks enormous and I have no tan.”
“Thanks,” she said. “But don’t downplay yourself. You look amazing, too. There is no gut, sorry.”
Liana, who was only nineteen, shook her poms at us and changed the subject. “That new coach is so hot.”
“Shouldn’t you be looking at players, not the coach?” Jessica asked. “A couple of those rookies are like twenty-two years old. That’s your lane, honey.”
“I have a daddy thing,” Liana said with a grin.
“Who’s the new coach?” I asked, curious. I had paid zero attention to what was going on with the team, having been super preoccupied with starvation and the prospect of having to move back in with my parents.
“Are you for real?” Jessica asked. “How can you not know that? He got hired toward the end of last season after we sucked so hard. He’s in his thirties, used to play professionally.”
