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Tears spring to my eyes. I’m going to miss my parents. As much as I want to flee from this town, I love my family. My friends jokingly call us the Cleavers—a nod to the perfect family from the 1950s sitcomLeave it to Beaver.
“Oh, sweetie.” My mom draws me into a hug, and I wrap my arms around her. “It’s okay to admit you made a mistake. If you need to come home, we’ll be here.”
I nod into her neck. They’d welcome me back, no questions asked, I know that. But it’s time for me to leave the nest. Not just because of my failed relationship but because I’m twenty-five and I still live in my childhood home.
I need to spread my wings and discover whether I’ll soar to new heights or fall flat on my face.
Two
Chase
How the hell did I get roped into this bullshit?
I’m a tight end for the San Francisco Kingsmen, not fucking Martha Stewart. What do I know about hosting an engagement party?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for our wide receiver Brady and his former nanny, Violet. At least I don’t have to listen to him groan anymore about how he lost her, because they’re engaged. Great. Isn’t that between the two of them, not the rest of us?
My teammates insisted I host tonight’s shenanigans since I’ve never hosted anything but a poker game, so here we are. It’s really their punishment, not mine.
Looking at the spread on my kitchen island, I could do worse. Pork rinds, bowls of chips, a veggie tray for the women, and I plan to order pizza once everyone’s here. There’s beer in the fridge. What more do we need?
My condo isn’t enormous—three bedrooms, two baths, a big kitchen that’s separate from the massive living/dining room combo—but it’s bigger than the house I grew up in. That living room is the entire reason I bought it, and rather than putting in some formal dining table, I made the whole space what some might consider a man cave.
An eighty-inch flat-screen TV hangs on one wall, connected to a state-of-the-art sound system. It’s across from a huge sectional, and behind that is my pool table, poker table, darts, and a few pinball machines. All the shit I enjoyed growing up in Small Town, Montana.
The first knock lands on my door, and I pull at the collar of my shirt. I’ve already undone the first button. I crack my neck while walking over to the door. Tonight promises to be a long night.
I open the door to a smiling Lee and Shayna. Lee’s the team’s quarterback, and Shayna is one of the team’s athletic trainers and also Lee’s fiancée. Yeah, that’s two of my teammates engaged. It’s almost like commitment is contagious, the way they both fell so fast.
“Hey.” I manage to give them a half smile.
“I see you’re already in the hosting mood.” Lee chuckles and claps me on the shoulder.
“Hey, Chase. Don’t worry, it won’t be that bad.” Shayna’s trying to hold back a laugh at my obvious discomfort.
“Says you.” I step back from the door and wave them in.
“Oh.” Shayna comes up short and looks around the living/dining room. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but somehow this completely fits the brand.”
“Brand?” I scowl.
“Grumpy introverted bachelor who plays professional football.”
I shake my head.
“Go easy on him, babe. It’s his first time hosting anything more than poker night, right, Chase?” Lee shrugs out of his coat and helps Shayna out of hers. “Where should we put these?” Lee holds up their coats.
“Um…” I look around, take them, and toss them on the pool table.
“Chase? How about your second bedroom?” Shayna suggests, and I want to ask her why the hell they didn’t host if she knows the coats go in the bedroom.
“Sure.” I nod to Lee, and he walks down my hallway to the second bedroom. I move to the kitchen, Shayna following me. “Do you guys want something to drink?”
“That’d be great,” Shayna says.
I turn to face her as she sets a gift bag I didn’t realize she was holding on the counter by the stove.
“What’s in there?” I nod at the glittery pink-and-purple bag that looks totally out of place in my industrial kitchen.
