“You’ve got this, Lu,” Bex says, nodding as if it’s decided.
Staring at their three hopeful faces, knowing how much they’ve done for me sinceThe Incident, I can’t bring myself to let them down.
I exhale. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter 2
TJ
The Green Bay River Foxes are a force to be reckoned with on the gridiron. We’re defending Super Bowl champions, and this year, we’re playing like we’ve got something to prove. Our locker room is usually buzzing with pregame music and pep talks or post-game celebrations and speeches. There’s always someone—often me—walking around in a towel.
Tonight, things look different. Sure, the locker room is still full of oversized dudes. Kennedy just sashayed by in a towel, bless his heart. There’s music pumping through the built-in speakers and excitement crackling through the air. But the air itself smells of cologne rather than Biofreeze. We’ve traded in our uniforms, pads, and helmets for tuxedos, suspenders, and bow ties. My teammates and I are getting ready for the Green Bay River Foxes Holiday Gala, the first annual charity event of its kind.
“I feel like a penguin who had too much to eat.” Lawrence Poe, our team’s star tight end, tugs at his collar and frowns at his reflection in the mirror.
“Come on, man. Your attitude is stinking up the locker room,” I tell him from where I’m sitting in my locker, lacing up my dress shoes. “This is going to be great.”
“Says the guy who loves a party,” Poe shoots back. “You thrive when you’re the center of attention. A charity galaandbeing the featured player in a date auction are right up your alley. Some of us would rather fly more under the radar. Looking all flashy like this”—Poe points to his own chest—“isn’t my ideaof a good time.”
“If I told you that you didn’t look all that good, would it make you feel better?” I stand, flashing Poe a grin. He scowls at me, and I laugh.
These guys are like my brothers. We rib each other all the time. I have their backs; they have mine … both on the field and in life. I’m not worried about ticking Poe off. I do love poking fun at his reserved, stoic self.
“Stand next to me. No one will pay you any attention because they’ll be too busy swooning over me.”
“Careful, Teej. Your ego is about to bust out of that tux,” Anton, our quarterback and the team’s leader, deadpans, but his eyes are framed with telltale crinkles of laughter.
Poe just stares at me like I’m being ridiculous. If I’m a golden retriever packed full of energy and enthusiasm, my tongue hanging out so I can lap up every experience with a hungry slurp, then he’s a Great Dane: imposing in size with a calm, gentle demeanor … and a killer side eye. Which he’s giving me right now.
“I don’t really dance. Not like this. Give me a sawdust-covered floor, some nineties country, and a line dance sequence, and I can hang with the best of them, but I’m with Poe … I’ll be out of my depth out there,” Del, our team’s center, says with a shrug.
“Don’t worry, guys. I can show you some sweet moves.” Anton does some sort of shoulder shimmy, hopping in my direction.
“Keep your sweet moves to yourself, please, and thank you.” I shove him away, and Anton chuckles. “Still not sure what Rose sees in you.”
Anton reconnected with his ex-girlfriend last year. They had to work through some things, but there was never any doubt that the two of them were endgame. They support each other and build each other up, and it’s actually been pretty incredible to witness. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a pair more perfectly matched … except for maybe my grandparents.
“That’s because I save all my best moves for when I get her alone.” Anton winks, but then he sobers. “I miss her. Is it patheticthat I miss her? I literally saw her two hours ago.” He checks his wristwatch. “Think I have time to sneak out into the Atrium and find her before we’re announced?”
“Dude. You arewhipped.” I stand and put my hands on his shoulders, giving him a shake. “The definition of ‘obsessed with my girlfriend’ would have a picture of you next to it in the dictionary.”
“There aren’t phrases in the dictionary, TJ.” Poe knocks his shoulder into mine, and we all shuffle toward the locker room exit where Ned Norbertson, our team’s VP of Marketing and Fan engagement and our all-around communications manager, waits to bring us to the stage.
I roll my eyes. “That’s beside the point.”
“The point is”—Anton raises his voice over our bickering, used to being the one to reel us back in—“I’m not even mad about it. I’m happily obsessed with Rose. You guys should really find someone to love. Ten outta ten, would recommend.”
I glance around to gauge the reactions of the other guys. Del looks wistful. Poe looks doubtful. Me? I’m grinning, but there’s a slight ache at the base of my sternum—a wound that no one really knows about, hidden behind layers of skin and bone and buried deep in my chest cavity.
I had someone to love, once upon a time. Someone I thought I’d love forever. Then she was … gone. You don’t come back from a loss like that. At least I don’t. I don’t want to risk opening myself up to renewed pain. Not after years of healing. I’m a strong guy, but I’m not strong enough to endure getting my heart pulverized again.
I smile instead. “Pretty content with a new pretty woman every weekend, my man.”
Anton shrugs, pinning me with one of his quarterback looks. The kind that tells the defense that he knows better than them and he’s about to call a play that’ll leave their heads spinning. “You’re missing out, TJ.”
“Maybe,” I say noncommittally. Even if I am, I’m happy this way. I’ve got my friends and women who are happy to date me casually. I go out. I have fun. I come home. The end.
I’ve got my grandparents, and they’re the one long-term relationship I intend to keep.
