Page 26 of Draft Pick
I get that, but can’t everywhere? “Let’s just say getting out of the busy city isn’t the only reason I bought the practice and moved my entire life here. We can leave it at that.”
Crew nods in response, but there’s an uncertainty behind his gaze. He prolongs his stare, studying the meaning I have yet to share. My life story isn’t information I’ll disclose with just anyone. He’s got to earn that side of the friendship.
Tenley and August ramble on about the upcoming season and plans she has for the team as their social media coordinator, but Crew just watches me. His forest-green eyes track my hands with intention as I cling tight to the butterfly that has brought me more comfort in this lifetime than a person ever has.
His head follows mine as I examine the dirt road we take to get to the run-down bar. I feel him all around me.
There’s an intensity accompanying Crew’s presence alone, but add the heat of his unashamed stare, and it makes him lethal. I think he’s in tune with me, too, because as soon as I pivot to move, he averts his gaze.
Crew isn’t timid, yet the way he watches me makes him seem both vulnerable and untouchable.
He didn’t exactly seem surprised to have me join. But he doesn’t seem upset about it, either.
I have so many questions, and I have no right to ask them.
Looks like I’ll be in for the fight of my life tonight, hoping like hell neither of us is forced to make what little prospect of friendship we already have something we’re both ashamed of tomorrow morning.
Especially if he really is with Addie’s mom.
9
CREW
“You mean to tell me,if I lose this round,I’mthe one stripping?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” King replies, his pearly white smile looking a little too cheerful for my liking. “How long’s it been since you played DB, Briggsby? Ages?”
How long has it been? It’s gotta be at least a year.
I throw my head back and chuckle, enjoying the feeling of loosening up more than I probably should. “Long enough for me not to remember the rules.”
There are a million and one other things I should be doing right now, but I needed tonight. Time with the boys…and ladies, while forgetting about all the stressful shit swarming my head.
“Just hump the damn bar stool,” King shouts, the rest of our teammates only egging him on with whistles and pounding of tables. “Must have forgotten how to do it,” Gus attempts to roast me from afar while Jethro cuts in, “Here, let me give you a visual.”
He holds up a hand, hiking his leg against the worn barstool, ready to show me how it’s done. “Now, you remember the thrusting motion, right? Push those hips in, then ou?—”
“Enough,” I snap, needing him to stop right fucking now.
A healthy handful of our groupis cuddled off to the side of Joe’s Bar, wives seated on their husbands’ laps while the waitress Joe hired for the night, Sabrina, supplies drink refills around the clock. It makes me wonder why we still play this fucking game. I’m almost forty, for god’s sake, and although single, it’s not like it once was when all my buddies weren’t wife-d up.
I miss those days.
Now, those whipped motherfuckers aren’t even playing. More like dictating from the sidelines, and they know how we feel about sideline drivers. They can kick rocks.
It’s also not lost on me that Dr. Wilde is much tougher than she looks.Juniperis a badass.
I thought I’d lost my ability to speak when she walked out of the house earlier. She exudes sexiness. It’s as if each time I see her, her beauty kicks up a notch. Horrible for my ability to keep my eyes to myself. All I want to do is stare at her. Her legs in that fucking miniskirt, and the color black she wears like armor outside of work, giving her an aura of unattainability.
Holy, even.
Sheis an otherworldlylevel of beautiful.
But while beautiful, she still exudes professionalism. Too much for a midstream ball player like me. Had she caught me a few years back in my prime, there’d be no question about whether she made it into my bed by the end of the night.
But times have changed, and playing Dirty Bingo with my daughter’s pediatrician was not on my personal bingo card this year. As much as my dick would love nothing more than to take Juniper to my place and have a dirty escapade of our own, mymindknows it’s not a good idea.
We’re finally making progress with Addie’s ADHD diagnosis, and although I’m not seeing much change yet—something I need to follow up on—I’m hopeful we will in time.
