Page 21 of The Player

“You need to be smart with this when you’re not on the field,” Franky said. “Ice bath before you leave. Then go home and stay off that ankle. And whatever the hell you did last night? Don’t do it again.”

Drew eased back on the table. “Yeah. I hear you.”

While Franky finished up, Drew stared at the ceiling tiles and tried not to think about kissing Nicole.

“You listening?” Franky asked.

“Yeah.”

“What’d I say?”

“Ice bath before I leave.”

“And?”

Drew blinked at him. He had no fucking clue.

Franky shook his head. “Stay off that ankle. And if your side starts hurting worse when you breathe, you tell somebody before you decide to be a hero.”

“I’m always a hero.”

“You’re always a pain in my ass.”

Drew closed his eyes, ready to tune Franky out. The thing was, he’d barely noticed any of this last night. His ribs had lit up when somebody caught him in the same spot on the dance floor. But not long after, Nicole was pressed against him, and he’d stopped giving a shit about the pain, the ankle, the dull ache behind his eyes from staying up too late and yelling over the music. All of it.

He could still feel her arms around his waist, her mouth opening under his, her fingers tightening in his hair through the car window.

“Keep that ankle elevated when you get home,” Franky said, tapping the side of the table.

Drew grunted.

A TV mounted in the corner had SportsCenter on with the sound low, mostly background noise while the trainers worked on guys. Then the Drayton highlights came on, and everybody in the room looked up at once.

“There he is,” Dayshawn called from two tables over. “Drayton’s golden boy. Cameras love you, Kiernan. Don’t get shy now—somebody turn that up.”

Drew lifted his head enough to look at him. “Fuck off.”

One of the guys nearest the TV grabbed the remote and turned it up.

When Dayshawn’s catch came up, he threw both arms in the air. “That’s me, baby!” he shouted, laughing like it was happening all over again.

Tanner shook his head. “You’re celebrating harder now than you did yesterday. You know you already caught the damn thing, right?”

Dayshawn’s grin turned filthy. “Who said I didn’t celebrate? Me and my girl had our own damn party. All. Night. Long.”

Tanner let out a low whistle. “Can’t blame you. Man, your girl is beautiful.”

“I know she is. But I better not catch your ass looking at her.”

“Whatever, man. Take the compliment. She ain’t my type, anyway.” Tanner glanced over at Drew. “Looks like Drew’s the one with a thing for Black girls.”

A few of the guys laughed while the rest hit Drew with a chorus of loud oohs.

Dayshawn whipped around. “Whaaat?”

Drew smirk. “Yo, Tanner, mind your fucking business.”

Dayshawn turned back to the television and pointed. “That shit looks even better on TV.”