Page 23

Story: The Penalty Player

“Yeah. He’s a good guy… a little cocky.”

A wry chuckle escapes me as I raise my beer for another sip, and my eyes narrow in mock suspicion. “I don’t think we’re in a position to judge.”

We tip our bottles together in complete solidarity of our confidence. Greyson O’Ryan throws a fifty-five-yard touchdown pass, and Logan leans forward, studying the fat screen.

“Looking forward to playing against him?”

His response is quick. “Yep. You’re only the best if you continually beat the best.” He taps out something on his phone and shoves it in his pocket.

“I signed an extension with the Rattlers. No one knows yet. I never thought I would make this much money.”

Logan places his beer on the teakwood bar top. “But you’re still not happy.” He spins the deep-green bottle and when it stops, he asks, “So, what’s going on with you and Becca?”

Shaking my head from left to right, I say, “Same thing that’s always been under the surface. But I’m not good enough for her. She’s never wavered on the fact that she doesn’t date athletes. Plus, Corbin would…”

“Don’t pretend to know what Corbin would do. Emmaline’s brother hated me with a passion. At least you and Corbin are best friends. So, if it’s nothing, why the show on the boat? Your t-shirt. The kiss on the cheek.”

I lift one shoulder to my chin. “I kiss all the ladies on the cheek. So do you.”

“Not one that lingers. You’ve got it bad. Does Corbin have any… ahhh. Now I get it. That was your way of letting her know that you don’t care what Corbin thinks and at the same time making him realize you’re interested in her. Crafty. You’re good.”

“You make it sound like it was premeditated. I just acted in the moment.”

“Well, take my advice with a grain of sand. If you want it, go for it. Harper changed my life. Being her brother’s best friend wasn’t easy but well worth every moment of agony.”

My fingers loosen around the bottle, playing with the label. “Can we keep this between us?”

Bryce startles me standing behind me. “Sure. Just between us.” I glance over my shoulder, finding Reed and Flynn too. “You do remember when Emmaline was Jolie’s nanny, right? Sometimes, what we see as wrong, is right.”

“It’s not me… it’s her.”

“Have you asked her to go on a date with your sorry ass?” Reed ribs me.

“No, but after Corbin and Oakley’s Mamaw died, we talked every day and almost all day on weekends. Then she left me a voice message that she couldn’t ‘do this.’”

The only noise comes from the television and the distant rolling of the ocean. Logan breaks the quiet when the Heavyweights score on third down, tying the game.

I push back from the bar. “I’m headed to the villa to shower.”

Reed slaps my bare back. “Don’t forget to put on a shirt.” The fuckers all laugh like a clan of hyenas.

Back in the quiet of my room, I replay my friends’ words in my head, wondering if he’s right. Maybe I should ask her on a date. Put myself out there. I thought I had but when I mull it over, all I’ve given Becca is flirty innuendos.

A shower and nap later, I get ready for dinner, renewed with a plan to be sure she gets the message loud and clear.

This time, when we meet in the lobby, there’s a flurry of activity and chatter. Dawes and his ex-wife Christina have arrived, along with Federberg, Coleman, and their wives.

“Hey,” I shout across the room. The guys meet me halfway with warm embraces. We don’t see these three as much since they’re not in the league. We usually get together at weddings and reunions. My hug with Dawes lasts longer since we played three years together. “Good to see ya, man.”

“It’s been too long. Almost a year since Corbin and Oakley’s wedding… reception.”

“Are you and Christina back together?” She went to a different college, but they dated on and off the entire four years. Got married. And divorced.

“Yeah, she couldn’t live without me.”

“I think you’ve got that one ass backward,” I tease. “Congrats. I know how much you love her.”

Gradually, the group clusters in the center of the marble lobby. The number has grown to twenty-four people. The resortemployee comes over. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dawes, but the room was cancelled by mistake, and we’re sold out. When you changed your arrival date last minute, the reservationist must have deleted the old reservation and not saved the new one. We’ll put you up in the resort a few miles down the beach.”