Page 71 of Sportsball is for Lovers

twenty-three

. . .

Jared

The bar isloud and packed, the crowd raucous after an exciting playoff win. I can hardly blame their enthusiasm. Even hiding away at my desk, watching on my monitor as I filed paperwork, the atmosphere was electric.

Sadie texted me that she was in the VIP section of the bar. I flash my employee badge at the bouncer and he lets me through.

I recognize some of her friends from earlier. Vanessa, my new coworker, is cuddled up with Sven Larsson, her hockey player boyfriend. He brought a few of his teammates along for the social hour, though he seems content to drink his beer and ignore everyone else.

I’ve only met him once—in the cafeteria, where I was getting coffee for the entire logistics department—but he seemed nice enough, if a little standoffish. Vanessa mentioned he’s been working on unmasking as much as possible. I commend him for that. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to unlearn all of the social niceties and simply be comfortable in his own skin.

Sadie beams at me from across the table as I make my way over to her. That guy is next to her again, his arm around a pretty Asian woman, her nose in her e-reader.

My girlfriend pulls me into the empty chair and I immediately wrap my arm around her, breathing in her fresh, fruity perfume and the honeydew-scented hair products she uses.

In just a few short weeks, she’s managed to get under my skin in the best way possible. We’re keeping it casual—a few evenings together a week, plenty of distance for us both to live our lives—but there’s something about the familiar certainty that at the end of the night, we’ll be going home together.

I don’t have any friends in the city yet. Usually the way I get to know people is through the kink scene. Hmm… I wonder if Sadie would be interested in checking out a sex club with me…

Shaking my head, I focus on the moment. Tonight is for me to meet her friends.

A gorgeous olive-skinned woman wearing a leather jacket, a blood-red corset beneath it, plops into the seat across from me. Her hair falls in spiral coils halfway down her back, a shimmery wave of chestnut and auburn curls.

“Hi, I’m Cecilia, but you can call me Ceci,” she says, offering her hand for a shake. “We’re so glad you’re here with us.”

“Thanks. Happy to meet you.”

And it’s true. Sadie’s warned me Ceci is the social ringleader. Once I get on her good side, I’ll be in with the rest of the group.

But as much as I want to make a good impression, I want to get along with her friends for Sadie’s sake. I don’t ever want to put her in a position where she has to choose between me or her friends.

Ceci sets her hand on my forearm, squeezing gently. “Do you want a drink?”

“Oh, I’m okay for now. Thanks, though.” I meet her eyes with a steady smile.

“I could use another,” the other man at the table says. “Babe, you want anything?”

But he’s not looking to his girlfriend, the woman he’s wrapped around. He’s looking at Sadie.

“Just a water. Thanks, boo,” my girlfriend says.

Very curious about this dynamic, I look back and forth between them a bit.

“Hey, man,” he says, holding out his hand. “I’m Sullivan.”

He’s a broad, beefy dude with a soft belly and a scruffy beard. His Boston Grizzlies t-shirt is a little tight in the chest and shoulders, like he’s put on weight since the last time he wore it.

I feel that. Half the time, my clothes are tighter than I remember them being.

“Jared.” To my surprise, he doesn’t try to squeeze me out; he just shakes my hand.

I look to the dark-haired woman beside him.

“Johanna,” she says, looking up from her e-reader, forcing a smile, and then delving back into her book. “I don’t like loud places.”

It’s only then that I recognize she’s wearing in-ear headphones.