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She’d tried to call me a few times after that, but I’d ignored it. I didn’t want anything serious, and she wanted something else. What was the point?
But now…I’m not the man I used to be. I cringe when I think about the guy I once was. I don’t see myself as a waste of time anymore. I have a lot to offer. I’m not the dumb jock from back in the day. And this time, when I spent time with her, it was like coming home. Something inside me clicked into place as if I’d been drowning my whole life, and I could finally break the surface to breathe again.
And I let her go. After our night at her hotel room, I let her go without taking her number, without asking her where she lives now, without knowing anything else.
All I know is that she’s the one girl who got away. Once, because I was an idiot. And twice because I’m apparently still that idiot.
“I think I’m just going to go out for a couple of drinks. Join me?”
“Sure,” Rooster says. “I don’t have anything—or anyone—to do either.” He grins at me.
Rooster is a lot like I am. Maybe that’s why we get along so well. He doesn’t sleep around as much as I do, but he has the same outlook on life. He has more important things to do with his time than keep a woman happy. And because of it, every woman he meets fawns over him like he’s the best thing since sliced bread.
It’s always like that, isn’t it? We want what we can’t have.
“I have a couple of things to take care of in the office,” he says. “Then I’ll meet you in town. I’ll send you a location for a posh event you can’t refuse.”
“What the fuck are we going to a posh event for?” Rooster asks. We usually meet at a seedy joint not too far from my place—I like going to places where people aren’t scared to be who they really are. The shittier the place, the fewer people there trying to impress.
Tonight is an exception. I grin. “It’s fashion week. Downtown will be full of models. They’re hosting a black-tie Valentine’s event at one of the hotels, formal and fancy. It will be a work of art.”
Rooster laughs. “You’re socultured.”
“Hey, they make the rules, I play the game.” I wink at him. “Besides, the moment they heard you and I are coming, they jumped with free tickets.”
“The perks of the job,” Rooster grins.
I hang out at these events for two things—to have funduringthe event, dressing up and playing cat and mouse, and to have funafter. My name is big enough that it gets me where I need to be. Rooster loves throwing around his clout, too. Fame, parties, sex—it’s a bunch of wins in my book.
“I’ll see you there. Trust me on this.” I clap him on the back and walk through the training center to the office, where I spend at least half of my day. My desk is littered with papers. I have profiles on every player in the league, not only the players on our team.
Rooster knows what to do to get that ball to the end zone. I know how to get him players that will perform when he runs them through the right drills. It’s a great partnership, and if it wasn’t for Rooster, I would probably like my job a little less. He’s the kind of person that injects a fresh objective.
I don’t think I have what it takes to be a coach. But I’m fucking good at my job, so I’m happy.
I pick up the phone and make a couple of calls. I review player profiles. I make notes about how the players are doing so far and our position in the league.
Right now, everything is hunky-dory. Our players are fan-fucking-tastic. Our win streak is unbroken.
And after I take care of all the admin, I know Rooster and I both have earned our drink.
Chapter 4
Raven
The hotel went all out with the event.
Tall vases with red roses adorn the lobby, the bar and restaurant area are decorated with fairy lights, and soft music floats from invisible speakers. The lighting is dimmed to add to the romantic mood, and the guests are all dressed to the nines.
Thin models and elegant PR representatives show themselves off as they walk around the room. Men in tuxedos stand around with tumblers in their hands. The interaction between the two sexes is a carefully orchestrated dance with varying levels of intimacy.
We walk into the bar area and occupy one of the tall standing tables.
“I didn’t think I would have what it takes for a party like this,” I admit. “But I’m glad we came.”
“I told you it would be fun,” Michelle says, and she looks pleased with herself.
I nod. I’m an introverted person and Michelle draws me out of my shell, dragging me to events and parties I wouldn’t have attended on my own. She’s responsible for most of the business contacts we’ve made these past five years, and she’s not too humble to admit I’d be lost without her.
