Page 20 of Game On
“I’d never say such a thing about my best friend.”
“You just called me a crybaby about five minutes ago,” I say with a snort. “That’s arguably much worse.”
He pats me roughly on the shoulder. “Hudson, buddy, you can’t argue with the truth.”
“No? Am I allowed to argue with the shithead I call my best friend?”
His laughter echoes as we head toward the locker rooms. We quickly strip off our gear, and I mull over his suggestion, albeit briefly. The idea of entering the draft, of abandoning the path I’ve laid brick by brick, is momentarily tempting. It would be an easier route, one filled with glory and potential wealth. But as quickly as the thought comes, it dissipates.
My passion isn’t for the fame that might come from professional sports. It might not suit my persona, but I’m just more interested in the old-school stuff: ancient civilizations, their stories, ruins, and all the things they left behind.
It’s something I’ve been fascinated with since I was a child. I still remember the first time I readD’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths. It blew my mind. A book that opened up a whole world of gods and heroes, epic quests, and moral dilemmas. Sports might fail me, and when I’m too worn out to play, at least I’ll still have the classics.
If I can finish graduate school and teach, do some research on the side, then I’ll have achieved what I’ve always wanted. I’ll have built a life centered around these stories, a history that’s always inspired me. Another dream realized.
The shower does little to cool my heated muscles or the whirlwind of my thoughts. As the water rushes over me, I think back to that encounter with Ella. The memory of her, the feel of her skin against mine, and the sound of her voice linger stubbornly in the back of my mind.
I told Levi—and myself—that it was a one-time thing,that I’m focusing on what’s important. But the truth is, I can’t seem to let go of the way we left things. I know I’ll be seeing her around this season, and I’m dreading it.
I’m not sure how to navigate the tension between us. I’ll need to temper my reaction when she’s cheering for us on the sidelines, giving everything she’s got with that fiery determination in her eyes. But it’s more than just her incredible body that I’m attracted to.
It’s the way she carries herself. The way she moves and commands attention. That sexy, subtle confidence that I found so much pleasure in drawing out. I guess my best bet is to simply ignore her. To pretend that night never happened in the first place.
Toweling off, I catch Levi waiting for me, his usual grin in place. “So, about tonight—”
“I told you, I’m laying off,” I cut in before he can launch into what I’m sure would be a persuasive argument.
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. But we’re still grabbing dinner, right? My treat.”
The offer is tempting, a chance to unwind after the first day back. “Yeah, but I’m choosing the place.”
“Deal,” he agrees readily. “Burgers, yeah?”
I nod, the corner of my mouth lifting in a half-smile. “Hell, yeah.”
Pharmacy Burger is less than a ten-minute drive from our house. It’s one of the best places to eat in Nashville, and my go-to spot when I need a quick pick-me-up.
There’s something comforting about the familiar, if not abit kitschy, interior that greets us—a mix of retro pharmacy cabinets and modern touches that somehow works.
Tonight, the beer garden is bustling, filled with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses under strings of twinkling lights. We snag a table, the wooden surface warm under the summer sky, and Levi wastes no time flagging down a server for menus.
“Two Pharmacy Burgers, medium, and a pitcher of Yazoo Hefe,” he orders with the confidence of someone who’s made this request many times before.
Our teammates, Marcus and Harlen, join us not long after, pulling up chairs with easy smiles. Marcus is a tower of muscle with a penchant for practical jokes, and Harlen’s one of the quickest players on the team. A man with a laugh that’s sometimes a bit too loud for public spaces.
When I pass the pitcher without filling my own glass, Marcus cocks a questioning brow. “You’re still not drinking?”
“He’s buckling down, boys,” Levi says, answering for me.
They laugh, and I roll my eyes. “Camp is coming up. Besides, I’m not interested in passing out in bushes like some of you.”
“That was one fucking time,” Harlen grumbles, crossing his arms. Though his annoyance is undercut by the smirk he can’t quite hide. “You never let a man forget his mistakes.”
Marcus ribs him. “Hey, he didn’t bring up the time we were busted after homecoming. If I’m remembering correctly, you insisted the cop was flirting with you and then tried to slip your number into her pocket.”
Harlen’s eyes widen, and he jabs a finger in Marcus’sdirection. “You and I both know that was some sort of entrapment. Also, she was hot.”
As everyone erupts into laughter, the smell of our burgers hits me, instantly making my mouth water. I take a few bites, savoring the taste, but halfway through, my focus narrows to the entrance of the beer garden. The noise around us fades as two familiar faces head straight toward us.
