Playing For Keeps

Douchebags

JustinA plate of cold pizza sits on the coffee table in front of me. I’d lost my appetite about the

time Elise announced that it was getting serious be- tween her and the guy she’s been dating. She left an hour ago and Owen called some of the guys over. I’ve been watching them play video games, but I couldn’t tell you who won or lost, or what any of the trash talk over the past hour has entailed.

Just the thought of her with someone else brings out all my protective, caveman instincts. Fuck, it’s not like I’ve been a saint—far from it—but hook- ing up with someone I won’t ever see again feels a hell of a lot different than Elise developing feelings for someone she’s in a relationship with. I sound like such a hypocrite. Correction, I am a hypocrite.

“Brady!” Teddy calls from the other side of the room. He’s waving a video game controller in the air to get my attention.

“Pull your tampon out and play me,” he says with a challenging smirk.

I flash him my middle finger, but take the con- troller that Asher offers over from beside me.

He’s right though, I am distracted. And I really don’t want my team to notice, because I’m not in a position to answer any questions, especially not with Owen sitting on the other end of the couch.

“Get ready to get annihilated,” I say, flashing him a cocky grin.

“You’ve been playing like shit all night, there’s no way you’re going to beat me,” he mutters.

And … Apparently he was right, because three games later, I hand over the controller in defeat.

No one else comments on my funk of a mood though.

“Dude, it’s not the playoffs, it’s time to shave the vagina growing on your face,” Teddy says to Owen, shaking his head.

I glance over at Owen and can’t help but

chuckle. He’s pouting out his lips and damn if I’m not picturing another set of pink lips surrounded by stubble. I shudder. That’s not a mental image you want associated with your best friend.

Fuck. What I need is another beer.

Or a lobotomy to get that visual out of my brain. “Go ahead, TK. Keep being a dick,” Owen says

to Teddy, “and I won’t share the girls I just texted.”

“Ah, come on, fucker. Don’t be like that,” Ted- dy groans. “You know you love me.”

“You got bunnies coming over?” Asher asks.

I side-eye him, remembering all the times he’s desecrated the hot tub on our balcony. I wish he’d just take one the fuck home. I’m not in the mood for their shit tonight. “Yup. Got a group of girls coming by,” Owen confirms. “Brady needs to get some. He’s been in a funk ever since training camp ended.”

I guess he did notice. I shrug and lean my head back against the cushion. “I’m not in a funk. I just don’t like the off-season as much as you bastards seem to. Glad it’s over.”

Somehow Owen has a way of turning a quiet night at home playing video games into a chance

for him to hookup. The dude’s a major manwhore, and that’s saying something coming from me. But Owen just takes it to a whole new level.

I wander into the kitchen and help myself to an- other bottle of beer, popping the top off and taking a deep swig as I rest one hip against the counter. I’m really not in the mood for our place to turn into a party pad tonight.

Owen enters the kitchen to grab a drink for him- self and stops to appraise me. “You alright, man?”

I nod, and take another sip. “Just fucking peachy.” I force a fake smile.

Owen rolls his eyes. “You know I can see straight through you.”

I shrug. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

He twists off the top of his beer and tosses it across the room where it lands inside the trash can. “Not the chick from South Carolina, I hope.”

“It was Tennessee, and nope. I haven’t given her a second thought.”

Okay that’s not exactly the truth. That situation was one of the reasons I started looking at casual hookups differently.

Owen knows the full sordid story. When I found out I had a kid on the way, of course I’d con- fided in my best friend. Shit, I’d been scared out of my mind.

I’d flown to Nashville and then rented a car to make the trip to her place. We’d kept in touch pret- ty much daily since she told me she was pregnant. We weren’t together, but that didn’t stop me from checking on her, asking about the baby, or sending money for the things she said she needed. I had mentally prepared myself to be part of this child’s life, no matter what happened, but when I showed up on her doorstep, all of that unraveled. Quickly.

She answered the door stumbling and slurring her words. It didn’t take long to figure out she’d been drinking, and she was stick-thin. She cer- tainly didn’t look seven months pregnant like she had claimed. When I pressed her for the truth, she started crying and admitted everything.

After an entire day spent travelling, the whole time feeling equal parts terrified but determined that I was going to be a good father, only to find that she had lied to me, I left there in a fog. I spent a sleepless night in a cheap motel by the airport since I couldn’t get a flight out until the following morn- ing. I’d envisioned assembling a crib and painting

walls, and maybe getting to listen to the baby’s heartbeat … instead all my life choices suddenly hit me at full force. I laid on a lumpy mattress lis- tening to highway traffic and started to wonder if there was more out there than just meaningless sex.

Owen clears his throat, and I realize he’s still watching me.

I lick my lips and cross one ankle over the oth- er. “So, this guy Elise is seeing. What do you know about him?”