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That night had been one of the best of my life, and I used that night when I needed to escape. Now, that was no longer possible. I had to forget it all happened and I didn’t want to. I still needed that escape.
I got up from the bed and decided to get dressed. I never, ever, spent the night before a game trying to fuck someone and especially never in Atlanta. But I was desperate to fuck Charleigh from my memory. She was the last person I had been with, and I reasoned that it would be therapeutic to let that go and be with someone else.
When I got down to the lobby, I was relieved that there weren’t any of my players mingling around. They didn't need to see me like that.
Instead of staying in the hotel, I walked a few blocks to a bar I knew the guys frequented but wouldn't be there tonight. The 678 Bar was a high-class dive bar, always busy, with a decent clientele, live club music on some nights, and the feel of walking into a dive bar. It was unique and I instantly felt at ease as I saddled up to the bar.
“What’ll it be?” A large man, about my own age, asked me.
“Scotch, neat.”
“You got it boss.” I almost flinched at his words, because I was used to being called boss and I wondered if that meant he recognized me. But when he called the guy next to me “boss” as well, I relaxed again into my stool.
I looked around, hoping to find someone I could take back to the hotel with me. Or even just the bathroom.
Most of the time, women flocked to me. I knew I was no slouch. I was tall, built, charming, and old enough to let women know they had just met a man and not a boy. Being with women was never hard for me.
Once I locked eyes with a tall blonde, gave her a smirk, and nodded toward the dance floor, I knew the night was going to be cake. I hated dancing,fuckI hated dancing. But it was a turn on for women and made my life easier.
Apple didn't want to dance, I thought to myself, before squashing that thought away. I was on a mission to fuck her out of my system before the game, thinking of her wasn’t going to work.
“Hey,” the girl squeaked, running a hand down my arm. “New here?”
“Just in town for the night,” I smiled as we started to move together.
“What's your name?”
“Bre…Brent.” Brett was my go-to, but even that reminded me of New York, so I made up a new name on the spot. “What’s yours?”
“Molly,” she giggled. “I actually work here.”
Fuck, that was both inconvenient and convenient at the same time. It meant I could never come back, but also meant she would know where the quickest place to escape to would be.
“Night off and you’re here?”
“Sorta,” she shrugged. “I got off an hour ago and needed to let loose before I head home.”
“Convenient to work and play in the same place.”
“Very,” she purred into my ear.
We were close, moving to the beat of a song I didn't recognize. I knew then and there that Molly was beyond perfect. She was hanging around 678 for the same thing I was–sex. So, I decided not to waste our time.
“Where can we go that is more private?” I ran a hand down her side and slightly kissed her cheek, letting her know my intentions.
“You are making this easy on me,” she moaned.
I had never been so satisfied with not having to work for it. I should have been at my hotel preparing for the game, so the quicker I got out of that club, the better.
“I’ll make it good for you too,” I snaked my hand to her jeans-covered ass and squeezed, making her fall into my chest. “Now tell me where to take you so I can get these off.”
She turned and grabbed my hand, leading me to a spiral staircase. I followed her up, wondering if it led to offices or bathrooms. When she opened the door, though, we were on the roof of the building. It was deserted, looking like it was only used for occasional smoke breaks judging by the piles of cigarette butts sitting around.
“Over here,” she pulled me around the corner and to a side of the building where no one could catch us. Her lips found mine and she tried taking control of what was happening, but that wasn't how I worked.
I was always in control. That was what made me a good coach.
Pushing Molly back against the wall, I separated our lips and shook my head at her, silently tsking at her attempt. “No kissing on the lips.”
