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“Hey,” I say, leaning in close to Adrien so the others don’t hear. “You don’t have to come, you know. I don’t think Brody actually cares.”
Adrien shrugs. “I can’t leave you to deal with him on your own. Besides, Brody is an asshole. Don’t think he’s going to treat you differently now that you helped him score a touchdown. You need someone to watch your back.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And that someone is you.”
“Yep.” Adrien flashes me a genuine smile, one that I return easily.
Well, at least I have one friend in this sea of testosterone. It doesn’t take long for us to change and leave the stadium. Black SUVs wait for us outside. This must be a common thing for Brody, because the guys who want to get trashed load up in his SUV while the others spread out between the other two to be taken back to the hotel. I grab a seat in the far back, leaning against the window and looking out at the city of Arlington.
It’s still light out as we leave the parking lot. The sun is only beginning to go down. This is my first time in Texas. My parents never really traveled much outside Colorado, or Aurora, for that matter. I feel like, compared to them, I’m seeing the world one small piece at a time. First, with Paris, after that New York, then with Chicago, and now Arlington.
Arlington isn’t all that special. It’s not like Paris, which has architecture dating back hundreds of years. It’s not like New York with its tall skyscrapers, and it’s not like Chicago, with its blues clubs. It’s not like Aurora with its mountains and snowy peaks. It’s just a normal city. Nothing special to it, nothing fancy to look at, other than the Cowboys Stadium or the amusement park.
We stop off at a bar in the downtown area called The Arlington. Not the most unique name. The bar is bright red and the inside is even flashier with its jukebox nestled in the corner. Girls stand behind the bar, wearing short shorts and cowboy hats. I feel like I’ve suddenly traveled back in time to one of the frat parties I used to attend. I recall the girls dressed in cowgirl attire then as well. However, the women here are older and filled out with bright red lipstick. The buttons at the top of their shirts are undone, exposing their black lacy bras. It must be some sort of uniform, given all the bartenders and servers are dressed similarly.
Brody and the other guys must go here all the time. He raises his hands, shouting, “Hey!” as he nears the bar.
One of the bartenders perks up, a slow smile spreading across her face. She dips her hip, placing her hand on her waist while she shakes her head. “I was wondering when you were planning on stopping by,” she says in her easy drawl and flicks her long blond hair over one shoulder. “The usual, I assume?”
“You would assume right,” Brody says in an overly cheerful tone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him act so polite before, let alone to a woman. I expected him to grab his junk and thrust it in her direction.
Instead, he sits on the stool next to me, placing his elbows on the counter. His gaze drifts to the bartender’s ass and his tongue darts out of his mouth, licking his bottom lip. I fight the need to grimace. I guess there are other, more discreet ways for him to act like a fucking asshole.
“And how are you, Darlene?” Brody asks sweetly while the bartender drops several beers in front of us. Including me. “Business been well?”
The bartender, Darlene, chuckles. “Business has been like usual. Tons of assholes like you coming in here and making a mess.”
Brody touches his chest, daring to look offensive. “I would never.”
Darlene raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you definitely would, Brody.”
“Excuse me,” I say while raising a hand, like I’m a fucking kid again about to ask if it’s all right if I use the bathroom.
Darlene turns to me, her gaze drifting to my broad shoulders and chest. She seems to like what she sees because she leans toward me, displaying her ample cleavage as she presses her elbows against the counter. “What is it, handsome?” She nods toward my beer. “Don’t like it?”
I shake my head, smiling uneasily as I look around at the other guys already drinking from their beer. Adrien turns to me, his brow pinched together as he regards me with concern. Fuck. Everyone is going to know if I send the beer back. They’re going to suspect something is wrong with me. That I’m an alcoholic. That I have issues. I can already hear them whispering behind my back.
“Um,” I start, grimacing at how unsure and annoying I sound. “I’m actually detoxing this month.” Yeah, go with that. Sure, the team will probably call me a pussy, but detoxing is a thing. They’ll think I’m really anal about my diet rather than thinking the worse about me. Maybe. “Is there any way I can get a water or a soda?”
Darlene smiles sweetly at me. “Of course, handsome. Anything for a pretty face.”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Brody says. He looks pissed, as if I just punched him in the face or told him his mother is fat. Is he actually going to get into a fight with me over this? I don’t think I’ve ever been in a bar fight. Not one that I remember anyway. “You’re fucking detoxing?”
I nod because it’s the only thing I can do. I don’t think I can let the lie leave my lips again. There’s no way I can make it sound convincing.
“What are you? A girl?”
“Hey!” Darlene shouts while smacking Brody’s arm lightly. She places a water in front of me. There’s even a lemon in it. “There’s nothing wrong with detoxing.”
“If you’re a girl.”
Darlene rolls her eyes. “You’d be better looking if you followed his example,” she said while waving at me.
Brody scowls, and I wonder if I just started something that will haunt me for the rest of my football career. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I turn to Adrien, wanting him to cut in, to make this whole thing go away, but his shoulders are shaking and he’s hiding his face. All I can see are his ears, which are bright pink. He’s obviously laughing, either at me or Brody. Most likely the both of us.
“This is not funny,” I whisper harshly in his ear.
