Page 30 of Make the Play

The whistle blows, and Coach bellows, “Hit the showers!” and the entire fucking team sighs with relief.

I rip off my helmet and shake the sweat out of my hair as we all move as a collective unit toward the locker room. I grab a couple of bottles of water on the table set up for us and plop down in front of my locker, draining one and then the other.

“I think it’s hotter this year than years past,” Foster complains.

“Nah, you’re just getting old,” Landry taunts him.

Foster Vaughn is a halfback and the quietest of our little group. He’s also the oldest of the five of us, only one year older than Landry. Landry likes to make sure he reminds Foster of that fact often.

Landry is twenty-nine, and we played college ball together. He’s two years older than me. Reid is one year older than me, and Baker and I are the same age. We’re all within three years of age with one another, but Landry still likes to give Foster shit about being old.

It’s what we do.

“One fucking year, Reynolds.” Foster laughs, chucking an empty water bottle at Landry’s head. He dodges it with ease.

“What are we doing tonight?” Reid asks.

“Eating and sitting my ass on the couch,” Baker tells him. “I’m exhausted.”

“It’s Friday night,” Landry counters. “We’re young, attractive males. We need to mingle with the ladies.”

“Too fucking tired to mingle,” Foster tells him, holding up his hand. “One year older,” he says before Landry can make another old man joke at his expense.

“We can chill at my place,” I offer. It’s not where I want to be tonight, but where I need to be. I would have preferred that Landry invite us to his place, but it’s better this way. Separation from his little sister is what I need. We were supposed to play poker, but we’re all too drained, so we decided against it.

“You don’t have a pool,” Landry complains.

“I have a pool.”

“Not a private one. We have to share it with everyone else that lives in your building,” Landry points out.

“You’re the only one with a house and a private pool,” Baker speaks up. “I guess we’re headed to your place.”

Landry shrugs. “Let me text Corie and make sure she doesn’t have plans for the house.”

He grabs his phone and fires off a text. A few minutes later, he’s telling us to be at his place at six. I wonder if that means Corie won’t be there or that she will. I want her to be, but I need her not to be. It’s confusing as hell, but even though I need to keep my distance, I’ll be there, hoping to see her. Landry would be pissed if he knew that’s my main reason for going. If not for his little sister, I’d be passing and sitting at home on the couch, nursing my sore muscles before we start again next week.

“Bring beer and whatever else. I’ll toss some chicken on the grill.” Landry sticks his tongue out at me. “Does that make you happy, Captain?” he teases.

“Yeah, but easy on the beer. The first game of the preseason is next week,” I remind him. Not that I need to. We’re all well aware of the schedule and that the season is about to kick off.

“Yeah, yeah,” Landry grumbles. “We’ll take it easy.”

“Fuck, I stink,” I say, standing from my chair and grabbing what I need for my shower. I’m ready to wash off the evidence of today’s practice and head home.

Twenty minutes later, I’m showered and ready to leave. I grab my bag to head out to my truck when my phone rings. I smile when my sister Everly’s name flashes across the screen. I sometimes lose reception walking toward the parking garage, so I sit down and answer the call, waving to the guys to go on without me. “Sister,” I greet her.

“Brother, how are you?”

“Good. I just finished up practice and was getting ready to go home. How’s wedding planning?”

“Good. We’re pretty much done. Matt and I both wanted simple, so it was easy to plan. Now, we just wait for the right time to send the invitations. Emma and Mom, as well as Matt’s mom, have been incredible with helping me get everything done.”

“I thought you already sent invitations? Or was I just the lucky one who got one early?”

“That was a save the date. It’s basically an advance notice to let people know when the wedding is and to expect an invitation.”

“Really?”

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