AllFreeNovel
Share Us
George
Postseason
“And you know what else?” I say, pointing my beer at Natalie Baxter and her sister-in-law, Cammy Wesley. “There’s no way a guy looks that carelessly sexyin the wild. I wouldn’t be surprised if some PA took him for a ride in a custodial closet before his segment shot, and then let Makeup work him over too.”
We’re having a girls’ night at Belfast Bar. The Slayers have just finished round one in the playoffs, giving Nat a night off from worrying about her boyfriend, Vaughn, and brother, Greg.
Cammy squints, looking from me to Nat, who gives her a little shake of the head, like maybe I’m going off the deep end again. But I’m totally not.
Biting her lip, Cammy sort of waves her fingers around. “Sooo, are you saying he had sex with two different people before visiting that sick little girl in the children’s wing?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him.” I tip back my beer for another swallow, trying to douse the fire that’s been burning inside me since the night at the hospital last spring. But it’s no good.
This guy is like a bad rash. After managing all these years without a single encounter, suddenly he’s everywhere, and thanks to Nat and Vaughn’s relationship and the fact that Quinn happens to be one of Vaughn’s only friends, our little circles seem to have locked into an overlap that’s not going away.
“Okay, seriously,” Nat asks, stirring a fry through her ketchup. “What’s your beef with this guy? I mean, I know he gets around, but from what everyone says, he’s actually really nice.”
Nice?
Cammy’s nodding, her blond curls brushing her shoulders. “Yeah, Julia says he’s not super discriminating about the whole who, what, when, or where business—and I mean, she told me not to date him or anything—but I’ve never heard anyone say anythingbadabout him… except you. So what gives?”
The tips of my ears burn and I suddenly don’t have any eye contact to give. Even Cammy’s sister thinks he’s okay, and Julia Baxter knows all the behind-the-scenes stuff from the sports world. How does this guy have everyone snowed?
Belfast bar is busy around us with the afterwork crowd, but no one we know is headed over to the table to save me from the kind, expectantly waiting look in Nat’s eyes. Or Cammy’s more impatient knuckle-rap on the table, indicating my time is up.
I swallow, giving my girlfriends a sheepish shrug while I study the label on my longneck. “I know someone who hooked up with him in college. He… umm… he kind of did a number on her. It was pretty shitty.”
“College?” Nat asks, and I can feel those blue eyes boring into me. Feel the heat pushing into my cheeks.
“Yeah, but she wasn’t at Wisconsin with us.”
She nods.
Cammy takes a swallow of her iced tea and then wags her head. “Okay, you know I’m not a fan of dickheads who use girls and then toss them away.” Considering she’s a single mom a few years younger than us with a son she had in her teens, that’s probably an understatement. “But that was what, four years ago?”
“Six,” I correct quietly, knowing where she’s going and not wanting to hear it even if she might be right.
“Six years. So think about how much you’ve changed in six years. Maybe O’Brian’s changed some too?” Then, because she’s one of the good ones, she adds, “But if it’s important to you, I can totally hate him.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “I appreciate the show of solidarity, but you’re right.” The reluctantly reasonable part of me, the one that’s normally in charge, knows it. Has known it from that first night in the hospital. “It’s possible he’s changed. But either way, you’re off the hook. If I’m going to hold a grudge, I’ll do it on my own.”
Taking another swallow of my beer, I wonder if it’s even possible for me to let go of the resentment I’ve held toward Quinn all these years. To accept that he might not be the same person he was back in Mexico. If maybe I might be ready to put the past behind me.
Nat’s phone lights up and she blanches, showing the screen to Cammy, who groans.
“What?” Only then I sense it. There’s a disturbance in the Force. A rustling of bodies and rise of voices toward the front of the bar.
And I just know.
Nat bites her lip. “I’m so sorry. I told Vaughn we were coming to Belfast, but didn’t clarify it was a girls’ thing.”
I can feel my eye start to twitch as I turn to where three Slayers Hockey forwards are cutting through the crowd.
Vaughn Vassar is in the lead, followed by Doug Shore and stupid sexy-haired Quinn O’Brian, who’s probably only bringing up the rear because he stopped to get a back-alley blowjob from some bunny on his way in.
God, I hate him.
I hate how broad his shoulders are and how his mouth seems to be hooked in this perpetual half smile, like he’s always ready to laugh. And I hate how once the guys pull an empty table alongside ours, he automatically slides into the chair beside mine.
