Page 53 of Playing the Field
“Not really.”
I throw Bogie’s ball and catch Kyler’s skeptical look. “Okay, fine. It happens.”
“Good to be a soccer star.”
Now I’m thinking about Gracie again and her insistence on calling me Soccer Star. No wonder she assumed last night was a “one and done” if she sees me as some celebrity athlete who rotates through women like it’s part of my job.
And who am I kidding? For years, it was a nice perk of the career. “Do you ever feel old?” I ask, not entirely sure where I’m going with this.
Kyler laughs. “You mean because those two women looked like they were probably in college, and it was ten years ago that we were freshmen?”
“I hadn’t even thought about that. No, more like the things I want now are different from what I wanted back then.”
He mock-gasps. “Are you telling me you’re growing up? Say it ain’t so.”
I follow Bogie down a side path, which takes us off the main trail. Kyler follows me, and we walk behind my dog, who wags his tail like a flag as he trots along the path.
“Seriously, man. Is everything okay? I know losing the house was a blow, and all the stuff with potentially getting transferred…we haven’t really had a chance to unpack all that.”
“Yeah, that stuff feels somewhat like I have it in hand, but it’s more…everything else.”
Bogie comes back to us with a stick he’s found and drops it atKyler’s feet. Tail wagging furiously, he looks from one of us to the other with pleading eyes. “Okay, buddy. Okay,” Kyler says, hucking the stick down the path. Bogie scrambles after it and, true to form, lies down in the brush and starts chewing the stick instead of bringing it back.
“He’s not good at this game, is he?”
I shrug. “Well, he’s a retriever. He knows how to retrieve, not how to return.”
“Ah, I see. Good to clear that up.” We watch Bogie, who looks beyond happy gnawing on the stick in the shade. For not the first time in my life, I feel jealous of my dog, who knows what he wants and goes after it. Wish I could wring that much happiness out of a stick.
Just as quickly, Bogie has a change of heart, picks up the stick, and races past us toward the reservoir. We follow, and I ready the leash in case I need to grab him. Like if he sees a flock of ducks and decides they’re dinner.
“So what’s the ‘everything else?’ Relationship stuff? Family?”
I pretend to cop some dude swagger. “You know me, I don’t do relationships. I do flings. I do hookups. I do meaningless shit that gets splattered all over the tabloids.”
Ky holds up a finger. “Correction. You used to do that shit. The last few times I’ve seen you, it’s like you’re immune to every single woman in the room. They may not notice, but I do.”
“Yeah. I’m not interested in shallow non-relationships anymore.” I look over my shoulder to make sure we’re not being caught in someone’s social media feed. The last thing I need is my thoughts being broadcast everywhere.
Kyler smirks. “You’re not gonna get arrested for that, don’t worry.”
I shove him off the path with my elbow. He returns the gesture, and I’m sure we look like two overgrown toddlers wrestling our way down the path.
I should tell him about Gracie, but what is there to tell? Wehad one night together, and she made it seem like we’re one and done.
“Feels strange to have such a strong feeling about wanting a normal life.”
“Doesn’t make it wrong. Only new. Hey, just because you’ve been a player all your life doesn’t mean you’ve gotta stay that way.”
Leave it to my oldest friend to cut right to the chase despite everything I’ve done to mask my concerns and avoid the issue.
His assessment of me, although true, still cuts deep. It’s not like I thought I was fooling anyone. I know how many women I’ve hooked up with for one night. But unlike some people’s exploits, mine have been splashed all over social media.
The worst part is that it’s clear that Gracie sees me the same way.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Well, you know what they say. Admitting the problem is the hardest part. I say, go forth and get thee a relationship. Nothing is stopping you.”
