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I’ve already had too much to drink.

I’ve already thrown Nick’s dietary advice in the trash.

Maybe it’s not that I’ve drank too much, but it’s that I didn’t have enough food as a base in my stomach after checking his caloric suggestions.

I opted for whiskey tonight instead of beer, which is a faster train to Drunktown, and we’re at a strip club. It’s not my usual choice in entertainment, but fuck it. I’m a sad and lonely old man at this point, so I may as well play into all the cliches.

Apparently Danny has buddied up with Ben Olson, who highly recommended Honeys for top-notch Vegas dancing entertainment, and so here we are.

“You been to Bodine’s club yet?” Danny asks.

“It’s where he brought me to schmooze the deal,” I admit. “But I avoided the third floor.”

“Yeah, I haven’t been up there, either. I feel like he’s riding a line there, and I’m not sure it’s one I want to cross.” He takes a swig of his whiskey.

Yeah, I don’t want to cross it, either. Particularly not now that I’ve been intimate with his daughter.

“You wanna get out of here and blow some money on blackjack?” he asks after we’ve been drinking an hour or so.

I nod, and we both chug what’s left in our glasses and head out. He grabs us a ride share, and we head toward a casino nearby.

“Heard you’re single,” he says. “Any prospects?”

I think about telling Danny about Gabby, but ultimately I keep my mouth shut. Enough people know. I don’t need to widen that circle, and I don’t need Troy finding out now that it’s over.

I shake my head. “After Stacy I sort of played the field a while. Met a girl and fell for her fast, but it didn’t work out.” I leave it at that. “You?”

He makes a pfft sound. “Fuck no. Take a look in the mirror if you want to know why.”

My brows dip. “What does that mean?”

“The sagging shoulders. The general cynical demeanor. The Cooper Noah I knew a few years ago wasn’t like that, and I’d put up a pretty hefty sum on the fact that it was a woman who did this to you.”

I press my lips together. He’s not wrong.

He nods. “That’s what I thought. You know the best way to get over someone, don’t you?”

I raise my brows.

“Get on top of someone else, dude.”

Is that what she’s doing? Is she getting on top of Spongebob? The thought of it makes me want to throw up. It makes me want to put my fist through something, probably not the smartest move given my future at the Heat.

Still, though, the thought of her with someone else fills me with rage. I think back to those headlines about Cooper Noah, the guy who never loses his cool—except that time when I clearly tagged Pete Mitchell out and the ump called him safe…the one time I was ejected from a game for unloading on the asshole who clearly got it wrong.

All the replays were on my side, but I may have gotten a little mouthy with the umpire.

“Yeah,” I finally admit on a deep sigh. “A girl fucked me up and I get it. I get why you wouldn’t want to subject yourself to that. I don’t really want to subject myself to it anymore, either.”

“Stacy?” he asks. “Wasn’t that her name?”

I’m about to reply in the negative—that it wasn’t Stacy this time, even though she fucked me up pretty good herself, but then the car arrives at the casino and we both stumble out of the backseat.

I start to think this was probably a bad idea. I have a nagging suspicion this is going to be an expensive evening out with a friend.

We head toward the high limit area in the back, mostly because it tends to offer privacy than the main tables. Plus the fact that we’re two fairly well-known professional baseball players wearing hats. They help protect our identity, but they don’t make us invisible, and it’s mere moments after entering that Danny is noticed by a group of women. He grins over at me, and they follow his gaze to his friend. I’m recognized pretty quickly by association after that since apparently our names have been paired in the local media as fans anticipate the new expansion team.

“Now this is what I was just talking about,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe the best way to get over Gabby is to get on top of somebody else. But I’m not sure I have it in me to just pick up a random girl and spend the night with her, not when what I shared with Gabby was so unique, not knowing a woman has it in her to make me feel the way she did. Nobody here tonight is even going to come close to that. Maybe no woman ever will again.

We head toward the tables, where I blow way too much money, drink way too much whiskey, and laugh until my stomach hurts with my buddy, and I’m hurting on Sunday when I wake up.

Nobody’s in bed with me to make sure I didn’t choke on my own vomit while I slept…though I’m old enough to know my limits and to stop before it gets to that point.

That fact doesn’t dull the headache or help with the loud rumbling of my stomach. A shower doesn’t really help much, either, and I get back in bed after my shower hoping to catch a little more sleep.

And that’s when I hear it.

My bed is up against the same wall as hers, and I hear voices.

I can’t make out what they’re saying, but she’s not alone in her room.

And the other voice?

It’s decidedly male.

If that little fucker spent the night, I might just lose my shit.