AllFreeNovel
Share Us
By the time we get back to town, I’m ashamed, angry, and looking for an outlet. From the field where the buses drop us off, I head home to drown in liquor. Aaron offered to hang, but I told him I wasn’t in the mood. Which I’m not. I need to figure out my fucking life and find a way to get Eli to talk to me.
It doesn’t take me long after I get home and find the bottom of a bottle of scotch. It wasn’t full, and there wasn’t enough in it to get drunk but enough to get a good buzz going.
I swear I keep getting whiffs of the scent of his hair, that almost-there smell, just enough to make me turn my head to look for him.
I need out of the house. Sliding my shoes on, I leave the building to go for a walk. It’s what we did growing up when we needed to work something out. We went swimming, hiking, or walking. Used physical exertion to clear the fog from our heads and find the answer or make a plan.
The sun is setting over the horizon, turning the sky pink and purple when I find myself at a bar I didn’t know was here. How far did I walk? It’s a smaller space, tucked into a little shopping center with a dentist’s office on one side. There aren’t many people inside, so I head to the bar and wait while the bartender finishes up with his customer.
“Oh hey.” He smiles when he recognizes me. “What can I get you, man?”
“What have you got for good tequila?” Should I be drinking tequila? Not a fucking chance. Do I have to work out tomorrow? Yup. Am I going to be hungover and miserable? Most definitely.
“I’ve got a Don Julio 1942,” he says, pointing to the bottle on the top shelf.
“That’ll work. Neat, three fingers.”
He grabs the bottle, pours the drink, and takes my debit card to run. That’s not a cheap drink, and honestly, I’m surprised this tiny bar even has it. I was expecting Patrón.
Grabbing the glass, I find a stool at the end of the bar and torture myself by flipping through Jordan’s Instagram to find pictures of Eli while I take a drink of the liquor. He has an account but doesn’t use it. I stumbled across hers by accident when I was searching for her dad’s band. She has pictures of her and Eli, and I messaged her. I needed to know something about his life. To know he was okay. Before I realized it, I was convincing her to surprise him with coming to see me, and I’m a grade-A asshole for it.
I hate the dark circles around his eyes in these pictures, the forced smiles he’s trying so hard to hide behind.
I swallow the last mouthful of the tequila and set my glass on the bartop. The warmth of the liquor hits my empty stomach and unravels through my body until my head is almost fuzzy. I keep scrolling through the fucking app, a glutton for punishment.
Needing to piss, I head to the bathroom and come face to face with a dude in a black T-shirt and board shorts. He sways a bit toward me, caught off guard by the door opening.
“Are you? Uh.” He staggers again, and I give him a hard stare. “Are you Vaughn?”
I let out a sigh, not wanting to deal with whatever this is. I’m not in the mood to put on a smile for a fan or keep it cool with a hater.
“Yes, excuse me.” I try to push past him into the bathroom, but he moves to block me. I stand at my full height, a good four inches taller than him, but he’s too drunk or too stupid to recognize the warning signs.
“Why are they calling you the best?” he scoffs, and I clench my fists to keep from ripping his head off. I’ve already been in a few fights this off-season, and my agent will murder me if I get into another one. Not to mention what the team will do if I’m in the headlines for another bar fight.
“Since I’m not the one saying it, I don’t know. Now—” I shove past him. “Excuse me.”
He grabs me, and I’ve had it.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I growl at him. “Get the fuck away from me.”
“What are you gonna do?” He tries to pull himself straight but fails. “You’re just an over-hyped pussy.”
My fist connects with his face before I’ve thought it all the way through. The tequila making me more impulsive and quick-tempered. I fucking knew better, but it’s too late now.
He goes down quickly, barely protecting himself since his reflexes are shit at this point. But my rage-filled muscles don’t care, I hit him again and again until someone pulls me off. I’m shoved into the wall, and my body sags against the cold tile.
Fuck.
The bathroom is swarmed with people, someone yells about calling an ambulance, and I close my eyes and knock my head against the wall. My hands ache, and something trickles down my chin. Swiping at it, I look at my hand to find blood.
Did he get a hit in?
Turning to look in the mirror, I find my lip bleeding, but I can’t tell how bad it is from here. I don’t remember him hitting me, but obviously he did.
I need to get out of here before I’m handed my ass by the team. Fucking shit.
CHAPTERFIVE
