Page 15 of Topping the Jock
I snorted at my ridiculous thought and got up to toss the tissue I’d used to come into. On my way back to bed, I grabbed my laptop and snuggled into the blankets with it propped on my chest. I scrolled through my social media and messaged back and forth with Tyler a few times.
Tyler:Wanna grab lunch with me and Neil tomorrow?
I couldn’t put off the meeting for forever, so I sent back a reply.
Me:Sure. Can’t wait to meet him.
I met them at a bar and grill a little after twelve the next day. Tyler waved me over, and I approached their table, taking calming breaths. I was an extrovert and loved meeting new people. But I also hated awkward situations… and this was sure to be one of them. I blinked in surprise when Neil stood up to greet me. The guy must’ve been pushing six five.
“Nice to meet you,” he said in a deep tone, shaking my hand. His hand was huge. Made me wonder if something else was huge too.
“Same,” I responded before turning to Tyler.
He, on the other hand, was still a shortie, standing at five eight. He hugged me tightly, and even though it wasn’t the first time we’d ever been so close, itwasthe first time where I’d felt nothing between us while having him in my arms. That sizzling attraction we used to have was gone. It made things… easier. Part of me had worried I’d still have feelings for him.
After the waitress took our orders, Neil and I talked about football. He had been more of a basketball player himself, but he enjoyed watching football. Tyler giggled when Neil went into fanboy mode and talked about some of my game highlights from back in college. He could even describe them in detail, play by play. Tyler hadn’t been kidding; Neil was a fan.
“Did the asshole who injured you ever get in trouble?” Neil asked once we had our food in front of us.
“Nah.” I shook my head. “It was never proven he did it intentionally. My dad paid a pretty penny to go after him and press charges, but without proof, there wasn’t much the attorney could do. Injuries are part of the game.”
“How is your dad doing?” Tyler asked, cutting into his grilled chicken. He’d grown out his dark hair over the years, and the shaggy style fit him. “Man, I remember when we used to take his boat and get shitfaced out on the water. I don’t see how we’re still alive with all the stupid shit we did.”
I took a bite of my burger and chewed it slowly to give me more time to think on a response.
How was my dad doing? Beats me. Once my career went down the drain, he’d basically written me off. He was the type of man who used the people around him—for money, political gain, and anything else he saw fit. When I no longer had use to him, he tossed me aside just like he did to everything else when it no longer suited him.
“Last I heard, he’s on a trip in DC with his new wife,” I eventually said. “We don’t talk much these days.”
“New wife? Did he divorce… oh, what’s her name…?” Tyler snapped his fingers. “Vicki!”
“Yeah, he divorced Vicki like three years ago,” I said, feeling disgust for my dad resurface. “Then he married a woman younger than me. I think she’s only like twenty-three. The girl couldn’t even legally drink at her own wedding.”
I had gone to that wedding to keep up appearances, but I wasn’t close at all to my dad. I never had been.
“Talk about a trophy wife,” Tyler responded, his brows shooting upward. “No offense to your old man.”
“No, you’re spot-on. Call it like you see it.” I took a pull from my beer before eating a fry. My appetite had diminished, though. I needed to change the subject. “How did you guys meet?”
It was the perfect way to steer the conversation in the other direction. Neil talked about how they’d met at a Christmas party two years before.
“I actually went there as another guy’s date,” Tyler said, laughing.
“Yeah, but he came home with me,” Neil added with a wink. “Hasn’t left my bed since.”
Tyler blushed, which made both Neil and I laugh.
We finished our lunch and paid our bill before walking out of the restaurant. The sun broke through the clouds, though I knew it’d only be a temporary reprieve from the overcast day.
“Hey, Quinn!” Tyler said, staring over my shoulder.
I turned to see Quinn walking up the sidewalk, casually dressed in jeans and a white tee. The writing on his shirt read “What are you gonna do, stab me?” Below it was a picture of Julius Caesar. He was such a freaking history nerd.
Then it hit me: Tyler and Quinn knew each other well enough to talk in public?
“Good afternoon,” Quinn said once in front of us. He looked just as awkward as he sounded.
“Wish we would’ve caught you sooner,” Neil said, putting an arm around Tyler’s shoulders. “We just finished eating, otherwise we would’ve asked you to sit with us.”
