Page 3 of Brick Wall

Annie

I wake up to one of my favorite smells: bacon.

I’m lying in my warm bed, curled around my white comforter. It takes me a few minutes to wake up and fully register what’s going on.

Shit. I’m being bribed.

Goldie is making me breakfast on a Friday morning before work. Weekday bacon? Highly suspicious.

I open my bedroom door and enter our open concept living space. It’s feminine, with a pink leather couch, floral pink and cream curtains, and a soft pink rug to match. I’m more of a neutral gal myself, but it’s very Goldie.

Goldie and I have been roommates and friends for the past two years. She was looking for a new roommate for her two-bedroom apartment on the second floor in a two-family home in South Boston.

I was moving back to the Boston area for a new job opportunity and needed to find a place.

I grew up in the Boston suburbs so I could have lived in my childhood home temporarily, but my commute would have been a solid hour or more, depending on traffic.

Plus, I didn’t really want to move back with my parents after a decade or more of living on my own.

After receiving my official job offer, I was scrolling through social media randomly and saw a mutual friend share a post from a friend looking for a new roommate.

I reached out to my friend first for more information about Goldie, and she encouraged me to contact her, thinking we’d get along well.

Our mutual friend was right because not only do I have a great roommate and apartment, but I also have an amazing friend. Cue the roomie love montage, please.

I swipe a look at Goldie and notice she’s already dressed to the nines for the day, which I don’t understand since she works from home as her own boss. I’m still in my pajamas—an old college T-shirt and comfy shorts.

I plop down on a pink stool at the kitchen island, swipe a piece of bacon, and stuff it in my mouth. With the bacon in my belly, I ask, “All right, let’s get this over with. What am I doing?”

“Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Goldie sweetly says as she flips her long golden locks behind her shoulders. I give her an eye roll to motion to her to continue. “I’m meeting Bryce at the bar tonight, and he’s going to introduce me to some of his friends, and I’m really nervous—”

I cut her off and wave my hand in the air. “Say no more. I’ll be there.”

Goldie and Bryce have been dating for a few weeks now. I never officially met him the night of their first date, thanks to my excellent spying skills, but I have met him a few times since. When he picked her up for a date at our apartment, we were officially introduced.

The three of us also had dinner together at our place one night. I really like Bryce so far. He makes her happy, which is pretty much my main requirement for liking a friend’s beau. Plus, her smile is ten times bigger than she had with her last boyfriend, so I’m elated for her.

Still, I’d rather stay in tonight. I don’t want to chance any run-ins with a certain teammate of Bryce’s or meet any more players. Oh well. It’ll probably be fine.

* * *

I am such an amazing friend. That’s what I keep telling myself as Goldie and I walk along the sidewalk to our favorite bar that’s conveniently a few blocks from our place.

We enter the heavily wooded space and the familiar scent of popcorn fills my lungs. Goldie spots Bryce immediately as I see that my beloved popcorn machine has no line. I fill up a bowl and make my way over to Goldie’s table, where she is already smiling beside Bryce.

Bryce is a good-looking guy if you like that whole tall, dark, and handsome kind of thing.

According to a local social media account, @RavishingtheRevs, Bryce is the second-hottest Revs player on the team, only trailing behind the team quarterback, Quinn Banks.

Sebastian didn’t make the top ten, so I’m not sure how legitimate the list is if you ask me.

Sebastian must hear my inner thoughts because I turn, and there he is, sitting at the bar with a big bald man that I slightly recognize, but he’s staring directly at me. We make eye contact, and he turns away immediately and resumes talking to his teammate.

I see that he’s still an idiot, so I grab my popcorn and listen to Goldie as she introduces everyone she has just met.

I wish I could box up her memory and sell it because I’d make millions.

Goldie can remember everyone’s name instantly, which is a skill I do not possess.

I would have forgotten all these names already if I hadn’t seen them on my TV screen every Sunday during football season.

I smile and introduce myself, feeling every bit out of place.

I’m at a long table with Goldie, Bryce, three other players, and two wives of said players.

I’m sitting next to the stag male who is currently answering to the name of Feet.

He must be good with his footwork or something?

I guess that comes in very handy when you’re a professional football player.

“Feet?” I hear Goldie ask Bryce.

“Yeah, I forget what his real name is, but we call him Feet. It’s short for fetus,” Bryce answers.

Goldie blinks. “Why?” she asks, sounding as confused as I feel. Thank you, Goldie, for asking the important questions.

“Because he was a fetus,” another player answers easily, as if the answer is obvious, and his wife just rolls her eyes at his response.

“It’s easier to call me feet,” Feet, formerly known as Fetus, responds.

“Are you a running back?” I ask him. I recognize some of the players from following the team, but I’m not familiar with him. He’s so young that he could easily be a rookie.

“Nope, but I am quick on my feet if that’s what you are thinking.” Then he lowers his voice only for me to hear. “ But I’m never quick in bed,” and then adds a wink for good measure.

I reply by chugging the last of my beer.

“I’ll be back,” I say while lifting my pint, although I don’t think anyone cares.

I slide up to the bar where there’s the most space, but I incidentally slide right next to Sebastian, a man who inconsequentially takes up a lot of space. I’m not sure how I didn’t realize he was right there. I hope I didn’t do this subconsciously or something. That’s a depressing thought, if so.

Sebastian notices me, however, and it’s not a good thing by the look on his face. Ah well, how much more can a guy dislike me? Might as well have fun with it. I’m the baby sister of all brothers, after all. I’ve got annoying boys down to a science.

“I’m surprised to see you here. You don’t seem like the meet-the-friend’s-girlfriend type,” I mock.

He ignores me, so obviously, I decide to prattle on. “At least tell me how right I am about how wonderful Goldie is.” I bat my eyelashes for good measure, admittedly a move I don’t do often.

“You didn’t tell me she sells stickers for a living,” he bluntly says.

“Yeah, so? She runs her own sticker empire. What could you find wrong with that?”

“She has a little sticker business. I would hardly call that an empire or even a suitable business for that matter.”

“Excuse you, but her ‘little sticker business’ did over two million in sales last year alone,” I say with a source of pride. Goldie is so fierce.

“Please.” He says it like it’s the most ridiculous statement ever. “She’s using Bryce so she can stay home, do her little hobby, and live off him. She obviously spotted Bryce on the app and saw this as her golden opportunity for a guy to buy her pretty things.”

Wow.

“Goldie doesn’t need a man to buy her things. She can buy her own damn things.” I practically spit fire. I’m so beyond pissed.

“He’s paid for everything so far, so excuse me if I’m a little skeptical.”

“That’s between them, but I know for a fact that she would offer and gladly pay.”

He scoffs.

“Believe what you want, but in Goldie’s last relationship, they split everything 50/50 to the point it was absolutely ridiculous.

He would send a pay request for $3.58 for a cup of coffee he bought her or would pay request her for her windshield wipers that he picked up for her.

They split every dang thing, and she would send him the money every time without a single complaint. ”

I’m sure Goldie would be mortified that I am sharing this with Bryce’s friend, but I am beyond reason right now.

I’m clearly not thinking straight. I need to turn this around.

“And don’t get me wrong, I’m perfectly fine splitting money with my partner, as is Goldie, but I’ve spent more on a random stranger than Goldie’s ex did on her.

Everyone, at the very least, deserves a free drink. ”

I absolutely hate guys that think all girls are gold diggers. It’s like they think they have a gold-encrusted penis or something. I mean, I might be interested in a gold penis, but for, like, curiosity’s sake. It’s obviously not a requirement or even a want, really.

At the end of the day, I just want to come home to someone who loves me as much as I love them. That’s it, but even that’s hard to find these days.

This guy can’t see anything else but himself and his misconceptions. There’s no reasoning with a guy like that. I can’t believe I ever had a crush on him. He may be a great right tackle on field, but off-field—oof.

I chug the last of my beer and slam my glass down on the bar top. “I now know why you’re known as the Brick Wall. You really are made out of bricks. You may want to switch from the offense line though, because you really excel at defense.”

“Look—”

“Nope, whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it. The last thing I want is to be rejected yet again by you. Have a nice night, Sebastian.”

I give a little flick of my hair, walk toward the exit, and disappear.