He dribbles in place a few times. Squints at the hoop. Grips the ball, then sends it flying. This time the ball goes through the hoop, swishing as it goes through.
“Nice,” I say, jogging to grab the ball. I take my own shot and get it in. But when I turn to throw the ball to Wes again, I twist my neck too fast and wince in pain.
“You okay?” Wes asks.
“Yup. Just slept on my neck funny. I took the couch last night so Emily could have the bed.” I glower at Wes before he can say anything. “Don’t, dude. It’s fine.”
He holds up his hands. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, but you were about to.”
“I know a good masseuse, if you want her contact info. I was going to her a lot when I messed up my ankle. She’s got magic hands, I swear.” He breaks into a grin. “She’s pretty damn hot, too.”
“Jesus, Wes,” I groan. “Don’t tell me you tried to sleep with her.”
Wes bursts out laughing.
I stare at him, waiting for his answer.
“I didn’t!” he insists.
I shake my head and take another shot. We keep shooting hoops until we both have to go our separate ways. From the park, I ride home and take a quick shower. Emily isn’t there so I’m assuming she’s already at the bar. I was hoping she’d wait for me so we could go into work together. But she likes walking and all that.
When I arrive at the bar, I find her in the back office, frowning at the screen of the old laptop we keep in there.
“Look at this,” she says, turning the screen toward me. “I can’t believe it.”
The article headline staring back at me blares its letters at me. My stomach drops. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“And they’re opening right across the street! I mean, seriously, what the hell?”
It’s rare to see Emily in a mood like this. Normally she’s so cheerful. Optimistic. But right now she’s pure indignation.
I wonder if this is how I seem to her all the time.
“That’s bullshit,” I say. I sit down and scan the article, soaking up all the information at once. “A brand new location of the popular sports bar is set to open in a few months…”
“I can’t believe it,” she says, slumping in her seat.
I sit back and stare at the ceiling. I’m so fucking sick of things not working out. My whole life, it’s felt like sooner or later, things always go wrong. When it’s something small, I can handle it, but if anything were to happen to our bar, I don’t know how I’d get over that. I have so much invested in this place. I don’t just meanthe money, or the time we spent building it up. I’ve invested my heart in it, too.
Emily takes a breath, sits forward, and turns the computer screen back to herself. As she starts to type something on the keyboard, she says, “Well, we’ll figure it out. We’re going to have to up our game, though, Rock. We need to make this place shine.”
I’m not sure what she means by that. I lean forward to get a peek at what she’s writing. Before I can get a look, my neck twinges with pain. I feel myself wince, but I quickly cover it up and shift positions.
“You okay?” she asks, her fingers pausing on the keyboard.
“Yep. All good. Just tweaked my neck while I was playing ball with Wes.” I’m not about to tell her the real reason, or she’ll put up an argument about the couch tonight.
“I think there’s a cold pack in the fridge,” she says.
I resist nodding in case it makes it worse. “Yep. I’ll check.”
Emily gives me one more evaluative look before turning her gaze back to the computer.
“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch tonight.”
Emily makes this declaration shortly after we get home after closing the bar. She’s standing in front of the couch, arms crossed, as if she has the physical capability of getting in my way.
