“Not everything is about you,” I say, repeating verbatim. Fuck if I can’t help but be a smartass. If I get my teeth knocked out right now, I deserve it. But I’m not going to let this guy think I’m a total pushover. There’s a line, and while I see he’s to be respected, he himself has a few things to learn.
His pupils dart from left to right as he focuses on each of my eyes for milliseconds at a time, and I swallow down the dryrazors taking over my esophagus just as he steps back with a hard laugh.
“Well, fuck if you aren’t one tough rockhead,” he says, holding out his hand. I blink at it for a moment, then grip his palm for a shake as he helps me to my feet.
“I’ve been called worse,” I say, adjusting the fit of my wrap around my arm.
“I’m sure you have,” Roddy says through a chuckle. “You bust your dad’s balls like that? Or is that something you save for grizzled old athletes like me?”
Roddy moves toward the locker room, so I follow.
“I have two sisters, and if you think I’m bad, you should meet them.”
It’s true, too. Bethany and Isabelle are two and four years older than me, respectively, and the amount of shit I took from them growing up should have put me in the manure business.
“Two sisters, huh? I know a thing or two about that. Try four!” Roddy flings open his locker and tucks his mask in the cubby at the top before unsnapping his chest protector.
“I wouldn’t have survived four,” I laugh out.
Are we . . . bonding? Finally!
“I barely survived, and I’m twice as tough as your ass,” he says.
I laugh at the joke at my expense, but Roddy doesn’t, so I quiet down quickly. After a few awkward seconds, though, he cackles and snaps his clean shirt at me.
“Just giving you shit.”
“Ha, yeah. I get that. Now.” I exhale and take a seat in front of my open locker before pulling my turf shoes off.
We change out in semi-comfortable silence for the next few minutes, and Roddy finishes first.
“Tell me one thing, rookie. Did you really spend the night with Renleigh when you left the bar a couple nights ago?”
My lip twitches and eventually gives in to a lopsided smirk, and for a moment, I consider lying to him. With my luck, though, this is another one of his tests, and he’ll catch me in it and hang it over my head for the next week. I meet his gaze.
“I spent about three minutes with her that night, all the way to the parking lot, where she pocketed the cash and told me to have a great season.” I shrug and he chuckles, leaning forward and patting my shoulder in what very much feels like an act of solidarity and consolation.
“You’re not the first, young man. And you will likely not be the last with that one. That girl doesn’t date. And she doesn’t trust. And maybe around here that’s a good thing, ya know?” He glances around the empty locker room, and I get his point—there’s a lot of single, and not-actually-single assholes coming in and out of this place.
Except, I don’t really think I’m an asshole. Confident to a fault? Sure. Maybe even cocky. But when it comes to women, I’ve always been a gentleman. I’ve even had relationships that lasted more than a season, which I bet a lot of the dudes on this team can’t say. My college freshman girlfriend and I are still friends on social media. Hell, she even invited me to her engagement party set for November.
“What if I’d still like to give it a try?”
Roddy spins around and walks a few steps back toward me.
“Try and sleep with her? I mean, she’ll probably throw a drink in your face the next time you hit on her, but?—”
“No, no. I mean, like, take her out and shit. You know? Take her to dinner, maybe a show. Whatever people do around here.” I wave my hand around the room, acknowledging the limited entertainment in Sweetwater. It’s a cute place, but it’s harsh on the fringes. And other than the college town part and the rivers and ranches, there aren’t a lot of places to take a girl you’re trying to impress.
“You mean you want to date her?” His brow arches.
I lift my shoulders.
“Yeah. And if it leads to her place some time, well, okay. I mean, I’m not blind. But, I don’t know, there’s something there. Maybe it’s the challenge. She reminds me of my sisters, giving me shit right back. I’m into that, I guess.”
Roddy chews at the inside of his cheek and lets out a breathy laugh.
“Well, goddamn. I don’t know what to tell you, rookie. Like I said, that girl has a fortress up. But it doesn’t hurt to try, I guess. Just don’t think I’ll be buying you a beer to nurse your wounds in every time she shoots you down. I’ll cover the first one, but that’s it.”
