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Chapter 5
Brett
I’m keen to get shitfaced. It’s been too long since I’ve had so much to drink that I don't know who I am. I know I should be careful because we’re in-season and we’re playing a big game soon. But it’s been ages since Marc and I got to hang out, and he’s getting married. There are more reasons to celebrate than there are to keep myself in check.
So, when the guys ask which bar is the best place to go, I tell them Tiki Bay is where they want to be. Marc is keen to try anything new, and Tom doesn’t look like he cares where he is, as long as he gets to drink.
The name is cliche, but the bar is epic. An intricately carved round bar dominates the center of the establishment, so almost all seats have a sea view, and tall standing tables are placed around the edges. The deck opens up on the beach, and the warm ocean breeze brushing over the patrons in gusts at irregular intervals.
The beach is dotted with tourists that lay on colorful towels, drinking in the sun.
When we arrive, the girls are already there. Tom groans—he was hoping for a boys’ night. But Marc is happy. When I see him spot his woman, he lights up like a fucking Christmas tree, and it’s beautiful. I’m happy for my friend. I want him to get the life he deserves—he’s a good guy, and he should have a good woman at his side.
My phone rings and I step away from the boys to answer.
“Noah,” I say when I hear his voice over the line. “What’s up, man?”
“I saw your name on TV again. Thought you might want to know they’re all talking about you. World’s sexiest football player.”
“That’s not what they said,” I laugh.
“No, but it’s what they should have said. What’s it like over there? Join the wedding party yet?”
“Yeah, I’m with them now. We’re going to get a couple of drinks and see how the night goes. I’m about to meet the girls.”
“Fuck, I wish I could break away sooner. This last-minute thing is a balls-up."
"It would have been nice to see you sooner, too. But at least you're coming. It's big of you to step in for Luke."
"What's a man gotta do?" Noah says with a chuckle. "Don't drink too much. And don't do anything stupid."
“Is that you talking? Or the agent in you?”
Noah laughs. “I’m jealous I can’t be there, man. It’s been too long.”
Noah and I see each other when there are games that take me to New York. Otherwise, we talk on the phone or IM. We used to be close in school, and most of our college days together were a blast. But time moves on, and we all lose touch at one point or another.
While we talk, I spot a man at the bar, wearing a tacky floral shirt and a lei around his neck. His outfit screams that he's trying to fit in. He lifts his phone and snaps photos of the group, trying to be inconspicuous.
“I have to go,” I say. “I’m being rude.”
"Yeah, but rude is your calling card."
"Asshole," I laugh.
“Let me know what they’re like once you’re done with them,” Noah says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
“You bet,” I say and glance over toward the girls' table where Tom and Marc stand. They're both walls of muscle, standing shoulder to shoulder, and I can't see past them.
When we end the call, I walk to Floral Shirt. I grab him by the arm.
"Get the fuck out of here," I say.
"What the fuck, man?"
"We're just trying to have a good time. You paps have to ruin it for us every time."
I drag him to the door. Only two people see it, and I want to keep it that way.
