“I’m sure you would,” I mumble.
“Anyway,” she climbs out of my car the second I pull into her driveway. “I have work tomorrow, but call me, okay? Let’s grab lunch. I have some man drama going on, and I need help with it.”
I gasp. “And you didn’t tell me that first?”
She doesn’t give me a moment to question her further. “Nope. Night.” She waves goodbye as she runs up the front steps of her house, and I stay parked in her driveway until she’s safely inside.
By the time I’m back in Fells Point, I’m just ready for bed. It’s been a long day of meetings, followed by our girls' night. I’m just ready for my head to hit the pillow.
Getting to the gate outside my brick building, I insert the key and swing it open with a creak. I make a mental note to ask the landlord if he can oil it so I don’t feel as though I’m waking up my neighbors every time I get home.
Walking through the little alleyway between the townhome apartments, I finally get to my door. Kicking off my shoes, I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face before climbing into bed.
But sleep doesn’t come.
A lot has changed in the last decade and a half. A lot. I find myself staring at the ceiling, thinking about where life has taken me more often than I’d like to ever admit, even to myself.
Things are good now. No matter how tough things may get in life, it’s had a way of working out for me one way or another.
And right now, things are good.
And I really hope they stay that way.
But right as I’m about to fall asleep, sheep dancing above my head, my phone buzzes.
MilaBug:
Don’t be pissed! If it’s not meant to be, you won’t hear anything. I love you!
Attached to the text is a screenshot of a submission.
A submission to a dating show.
I’m going to kill you.
I end it with a heart.
CHAPTER 3
COOPER
“And how did you manage that?” Emmett asks me, his eyebrow nearly floating above his head.
“It’s just my charm,” I smirk, extending my arms before folding them over my chest and leaning back in my chair.
The honest answer is that I have no idea how the fuck I did it. Getting permission to film a reality show before the season starts, and, well,whilethe season is in progress, isn’t unheard of, but it was hard to pitch it when it wasn’t coming from a sports-centered program, that’s for sure.
I got away with it by the skin of my teeth, and I’m still not quite convinced that there isn’t a seriousbutin there somewhere.
You can do the show,butyou also have to rub Warner’s feet after every game.
You can do the show,butyou have to kiss Coach’s literal bare ass every time Warner throws you the ball.
You can do the show,butyou actually just need to drown yourself in the ocean before Coach gets his hands around your neck.
One thing is for sure, I’m a lucky bastard.
“When does it start filming?” Leo questions, shoveling chicken into his mouth like some kind of human piranha.
