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Holding my drink up, I nodded for him to raise his own. "To new beginnings."
Fuck, that sounded cheesy, but I wasn't feeling particularly compassionate and had to say something. Plus, I somehow knew I was in store for my own new beginning.
"Hunter Ward?" Hunter and I looked up to where Cruz had returned, standing alongside the table. Glancing back down at my watch, I laughed. Seven minutes. Way too quick to have actually fucked the girl he was with.
"You two know each other?" I asked, which was another question whose answer I already knew, but wasn't sure how to proceed socially.
"Sorta," Cruz said quietly, almost nonchalantly. "Coach Crazy? Right?"
Hunter smirked, but I could tell he was annoyed as he stood up from Cruz's seat. He didn't respond to the taunt, though, just nodded his answer.
"Hunter and I played against each other in college. Then we played with each other in Lexington League One," I explained.
"Just came to say hi," Hunter added.
"Is this a coincidence?" Cruz asked, definitely pushing Hunter's buttons on purpose. Admittedly, Hunter was hard to like, but Cruz was only being an asshole because he hadn't gotten laid in so long. His scoreless streak was nearing a whole week, which was hard for him to wrap his head around.
"It's easy to run into people when I spend every night out like this." Hunter didn't seem bothered by Cruz, and I could tell he was trying not to let him pick a fight.
"Sounds pathetic," Cruz scoffed.
Shit, that was the pot calling the kettle black, not to mention I also spent way too many nights at the bars. We had no room to judge.
"You should know," Hunter leaned over the table, slowly losing his cool.
Standing up, I pushed each of their chests and made them rethink a bar fight. Hunter could go home, Cruz would get a slap on the wrist, but I would be tossed off the team before we even made our playoff run.
Thankfully, Cruz had better things to do than drag me into whatever bullshit they had between them. He let up immediately, and I could tell he was about to leave me stranded for the night. We hadn't even been at the club for thirty minutes—and it was his damn idea.
"I gotta go," he finally looked at me. "You two have fun."
Tilting my head toward the door, I let him know I understood and that he needed to get lost. As much as it sucked that he was leaving, I would have too if I were him. "See you at practice."
"Yep," he walked out with one last glance at Hunter.
"Shit," Hunter sat back down once Cruz was gone. "What the hell is his problem?"
"He's close with Rhys Peyton, Ash Keller, and Erin Rhodes. They all think you're crazy." I admitted, giving him insight into the depth of my knowledge regarding his position.
Surprisingly, Hunter laughed and shook his head. "They're not wrong."
"So tell me then," because I was nosy and bored. "What're you going to do?"
"I have no idea. Maybe shoot for the assistant head coach of the men's team for now. They already have one, but word is he's headed out after their tournament in a few weeks."
"How'd you find that out?"
"I have my ways," Hunter shrugged with a laugh. "If that doesn't work out, maybe I'll take your job."
Was he fucking with me? We didn't even play the same position. Not that he couldn't make it work because I often jumped from midfielder to right-wing, but fuck him for even suggesting it.
Before I could ask what his deal was, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, which must have been vibrating. "Just kidding man," he laughed as he answered the call.
"Yeah?"...He put a finger to his opposite ear to help him hear better... "I know, maybe tomorrow"...His eyes rolled at whatever was said... "Let me call you in a few, okay?"
He hung up and shook his head, a slight grimace on his face. "Sorry, that was my girl."
"You're seeing someone?"
