Chapter One
Trey
“Fuck,” I groan as the too-chipper voice comes over the speaker telling me—for athirdtime since I arrived at this gate—that my flight is delayed.
Normally, I’d welcome a damn delay if this was one of my regular work trips. I spend more time in airports than should be acceptable, but that’s to be expected considering my recent promotion to regional manager for Nutri-Go. But this trip isn’t for work. It’s personal.
When Alex Brewer—yes,theAlex Brewer—contacted me about Austen’s video game company’s opening, I couldn’t say no. He’d messaged the group chat, which I didn’t even know I still had on my phone because I haven’t talked to the guys—my college friends—in ages. But just because I haven’t talked to them doesn’t mean I don’t keep tabs. I follow everyone on their socials. Not that I check that often—usually when I’ve got five minutes to myself or when I’m drunk in my hotel room, but still.
I know Austen got divorced from Savannah and is now with Cameron—his best friend—which I can’t say I’m shocked about. I mean, I didn’t know Austen was into guys in college, but he never seemed all that into Savannah at the time, either. But he was always close with Cameron. Best friends or not, theirclosenessfelt different. Austen was different when he was around.
Now I know why…
Then there’s Mack, my former teammate and roommate, who doesn’t post as much as Austen or Cameron. When he does, it’s mostly dumb memes. Still, I know he’s been working as a physical therapist back in his hometown for a while. Andre’s been busy as hell with his NFL coaching job and his family. Yeah, Andre gotmarried.He met a beautiful woman a couple years ago and had a private ceremony in France. They have a daughter together, and sometimes their picture-perfect-life is nauseating, but I’m happy for him. Paul’s got a kid, too. But that isn’t a shocker considering how many women he slept with on the daily when we were in college. I guess it was bound to happen eventually. Though, last I heard—or saw via social media—he and his wife split up.
Alex…
Well, it’s impossiblenotto know what Alex has been up to since he’s semi-famous and all, playing for the AHL with Reading Rioters for the last several years. I plan on taking him up on his offer of seeing one of his games firsthand if I can get to New York before tomorrow afternoon. I can’t remember the last time I attended a sports event that wasn’t because I was hawking Nutri-Go products or trying to acquire athletes to sign with usfor endorsement deals. The thought of attending a game alone, for fun, sounds like an escape, but attending with my friends…
With Hudson…
I’m dying to know what he’s been up to, since he is the only guy who has kept his life on the down low. His socials are quiet, and all I know is he moved back home to Minnesota after college on account he changed his location on Facebook. Every once in a while he’ll share an old photo on Instagram and tag us. It always makes me smile, seeing those photos of us. Game days, parties. Vegas…
Fucking Vegas…
I pull out my phone to look at the photo he shared earlier in the week, of the group of us from Austen’s bachelor party.
I saved it as my lock screen, because it’s hilarious and sums us up perfectly. We’re all drunk, naturally, posed in front of the skyline on a rooftop somewhere I can’t remember. Alex is sticking his tongue out while posing like a stripper, trying to get a rise out of Mack, which always makes me laugh. Mack is stone-faced as always, with one arm around Austen’s shoulder. Austen’s got his arm around Mack, too, his expression totally shitfaced. Smiling.
Andre and Paul look the least drunk, but I know for a fact they were just as bad. If I remember correctly, and I do, that was the night Paul almost got into a brawl after the strip club. Hudson’s got thishugesmile on his face because he was drunk as fuck—that was the night he slept in my bed because he got so sick he puked all over his within five seconds of getting in the room. I don’t think he’d ever drank that much before, not even at all the college parties we’d gone to. But you know what they say—when in Vegas and all.
He was a mess, and I felt bad for him, so I said nothing when he crawled under my covers. Just stripped the bed of the linens and tossed them into the hall so the room wouldn’t smell, andmade sure he was okay before I passed the fuck out on the side of him.
That was the last time we all took a trip together. After graduation, I got my job with Nutri-Go and moved to Pittsburgh for a few years, then Miami, when I got a promotion. Hudson stayed in school for a few years after that, being the youngest, but everyone else moved on too. We all went our separate ways.
The rest has been a blur. A corporate blur of football and basketball and soccer games and board rooms and hotel rooms.
If I’m being honest, I need this trip. I need this escape with my friends, whom I haven’t seen in eight years. My job for Nutri-Go keeps me busy, traveling all over the states, and because of that, my social life is damn near non-existent. My closest friend is Mandy, the sales rep for Power Play—our competitor. Like me, she spends most of her time on the road and at a lot of the same events, so it was just sort of inevitable.
A text chimes, taking my attention away from the photo. It’s another one of Mack’s New York selfies. I’m low-key jealous he got a whole week off fromhisjob and went to New York early. Andre and Paul, too. My boss was reluctant to give me four fucking days, despite all the shit I do for him and this company.
It’ll be three if I can’t get there tonight, like I planned.
I let out a sigh, as I get a notification on my airline app that my gate has moved.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I bite, noting it’s all the way across the damn airport. I groan in annoyance as I push myself up off my chair, grabbing my suitcase. I’ve got an hour, so I don’t have to rush, but what am I going to do with all this time on my hands?
The airport is crowded as hell with too many people not looking where they are going. I try to keep my patience in check, but it’s hard because I’m already irritated over this delay. Okay, maybe it’s notjustthe delay. Maybe it has to do with the factI’m going to be seeing my friends in less than twenty-four hours if I’m lucky, and I’m suddenly worried as fuck I don’t have anything to show off.
No wife, no kids, not even a girlfriend or a damn situationship.
I’ve got nothing but a rolling suitcase, my good looks, and a fat bank account.
I’ve got nothing worth bragging about.
Maybe I’ll just steer the conversation to Alex. He loves to talk about himself and all the ass he’s getting. He can totally hog the spotlight. He’s good at that, and it comes in handy sometimes.
Another chime comes through. The group chat is popping off. When I finally get to my gate, the app still says my flight is on time. I cross my fingers, hoping this is it, and there won’t be another damn delay.
