Page 5 of Blitz
“Yeah, it’s pretty good. They’re setting up for a huge push for sports drinks and protein shakes for athletes that they’re hoping will take off. They gave me cases of all their products to try since I don’t endorse something that I don’t like. The stuff is really good. They got this tagline about “no matter what your sportBoltFuel will energize you.” Which is why they had me shoot some stuff with a hockey player from Harrisburg.”
He glanced up from rubbing Winnie’s belly. She adored Ty. Most women did. “Is it all banana-flavored?”
“No, I added the bananas. They have a ton of flavors. Grab a container from the pantry. Ty nodded, then returned to fussing over Winnie. “Give me ten to shower and get my bags. Then, we’ll take Winnie to Paula’s. Then, you and she can kiss goodbye.”
“Me and Winnie?” he teased.
“No, you dork, you and your girlfriend.”
I loved Paula so much. She was not only the winner of last year’s Miss Black Philadelphia Beauty Pageant she was also in her final year of law at Drexel University. Smart, stunningly pretty, and with a sense of humor that never failed to make me chuckle. I’d never had a sister—only three step-brothers—so I claimed her as my sibling. She was happy to have a big, pasty man as her adopted brother.
I was out the door with my dog in fifteen. No point to making myself look good for the trip to her apartment complex overlooking the Delaware River. We got Winnie situated, got Ty kissed a few dozen times, and got myself a loaf of banana bread still warm from Paula’s oven.
“Why didn’t I get bread?” Ty asked as we made our way to the training facility.
I stuffed bread into my face, smiling at him the entire time. “She likes me better.”
“Oh, I doubt that. She calls you pasty.”
“I am pasty. Have you seen my belly?” I reached down to tug my tee up and there it was. Toned, sculpted, but definitely pasty.
“Jesus, cover that up!” he exclaimed as we slowed to enter traffic. “I’ve never seen a man so devoid of pigment.”
“I have some, just not much. It’s my Slavic genes. Look it up.” I covered my belly after dusting off some stray crumbs. “My question to you is, when are you going to marry the woman who made this bread? If I were straight, I’d arm wrestle you for her.”
“She’s not ready,” he said, merging into a slow-moving morass of cars. “I keep bringing it up, but she wants to finish law school first and get set up in a good practice.”
“That makes sense.” I chewed and contemplated. “I’d like to get married someday. Maybe even have a kid. Just one. No more than two.” Ty glanced at me as we sat at a red light. “What?”
“Maybe if you came out, you could find that right guy. I know, I know, it’s hard, but shit, Tom, you wouldn’t be the first.”
“I know. Thanks, Ty; I love you.”
“You’re just saying that because my girl bakes that damn nasty bread for you.”
“And watches my dog.”
“Andwatches your dog.” He flashed that smile that made all the ladies swoon. Some of the men too, for sure.
I chewed as we crept along towards Center City. I knew all of what he said was true. It seemed easier to do it after I was done playing with pigskins. While the league liked to brag about how inclusive it was, locker rooms told a different story. I heard the whispered slurs when the players thought management couldn’t hear them. Not all of the players. Obviously. Just a few, but those few were dogged in their bigotry. I had one season left on my contract. Unless I met someone who really knocked me for a loop, I’d keep my head down, retire, and then, post a picture of me and my bae watching the sun set from a romantic tropical paradise. Maybe that made me a coward. Probably so. But right now, all I wanted was to go out with a fucking bang this season. And that meant eye on the prize and no stupid romantic entanglements.
Easy. Peasy. Banana bread squeezy.
I could do that. Not like the paid companions I rarely used would be looking for domesticity. I could live another year alone. There was no one on my radar that I would risk my final year in the league for. Other than Trick the hockey player, I’d not met anyone who pinged my interest. But he was over two hours away. Not that it was a great distance. He wasn’t playing hockey in Russia or anything…
“You ever watch hockey?” I asked around a bite of my third slice of banana bread.
Ty chuckled. “Nah man. I’ve never really watched it much. I know there’s ice and sticks and they all seem to be missing teeth.”
“Not all of them.” I picked a raisin out of the half loaf sitting on my lap, the foil torn asunder as if a hyena had dived into the baked goods, then tossed it into my maw. “Some of them have all their teeth, they just don’t show them much. We should go sometime.”
“Yeah, we can do that.” He, then, began chattering away about some wiener dog on the internet that played goalie. Ty enjoyed silly animal videos.
My thoughts went back to Trick. He probably looked even better when he smiled, but I’d not seen a smirk or the twitch of a real smile that whole shoot. Maybe he needed someone to crack a few jokes, loosen him up a little. Maybe I needed to stop this right now. Trick was more than likely as straight as Ty and not searching for some elderly DE to come shuffling into his life or bedroom. Still, hedidseem like he needed someone to cheer him up, and I was incredibly good at that. Almost as good as I was at knocking quarterbacks on their asses.
THREE
Trick
