Page 63 of The Virgin Game Plan (Rules of Love 2)
“Great question, Erin. The Aces are always a tough opponent, and we played hard till the end of the ninth,” I start with, then finish with “And we’re looking forward to seeing what the Comets have this season. Thanks so much.”
“Thank you, Holden.”
As I head into the tunnel leading to the locker rooms, Gunnar gives me an approving nod. “Someone’s not so grumpy anymore with the press. Getting laid, bro?”
I bark out a laugh. “If only that were the reason,” I say.
Though, in a way, it is.
Only, Reese has always been more than sex.
She’s the woman I met at the wrong time. Then, at the wrong time again. Emptiness settles into my chest, taking up camp there. A persistent reminder that though I want so much more than sex with her, I shouldn’t have anything with her at all.
Trouble is, the only thing I want right now is to text Reese, tell her thanks, let her know her training is working.
Hell, I want to go to her place, curl up with her, and give her the download on how I’m no longer the king of “no comment,” thanks to her.
But I don’t do that, because I can’t do that.
I could text her about the interview, let her know it went well. But that would lead to flirting, and flirting is what I have to resist.
After a shower, and a round of good jobs from Thompson, I get dressed, ready to hit the sack a little early, play some word games, and try not to think of a certain blonde.
Besides, rest before the cross-country flight tomorrow is a wise idea.
That’s my plan, at least, until my phone buzzes in my locker.
Crosby’s calling, so I pick up, and he dives right in. “I know you don’t like going out, but you’re coming with us tonight.”
“Who said I don’t like to go out?” I say, buttoning my shirt.
“I bet you were just making plans to play a word game or something. Admit it—you were gonna curl up with your phone and try to find ‘stipend’ or ‘vitriol’ upside down or diagonal or inside out.”
I scoff, denying the stone-cold truth. “Maybe I was going to watch SportsCenter at the local bar with my teammates.”
He laughs. “Oh, come on. You’re such a homebody. You were not.”
“Is there a reason you called? Or is giving me shit reason enough?”
“It is absolutely reason enough. Also, I’m calling to demand your presence. You’re coming with us because we’re going to the Spotted Zebra. Cougs won tonight, and so did your team. How often is it that we both win at the same time at home?”
“Hard to say because this is the first time I’m playing for the same team in the same city as you,” I say.
“Just show up. That’s all you need to know. You’re lucky we let you be friends with us.”
“I’m so grateful.”
So that’s where Gunnar and I go on a Monday night.
Two nights post-Reese.
Three games post-Reese.
Fifty-six hours post-Reese.
Not that I’m measuring time by her.
Oh hell. I totally am.
Maybe a night out with the guys will take my mind off her. Distract me from the reel playing on a loop in my head.
We catch a Lyft and head from the ballpark to Grant’s sister’s establishment in the heart of Hayes Valley.
Chance is standing by the bar, an elbow on it, a crooked grin on his face as he chats with Sierra, his whole demeanor saying one thing and one thing only. I can read him from a mile away. He’s into Grant’s sister. Which is a damn good thing. The dude’s wife put him through a hell of a divorce last year, Crosby told me, so it’s good to see him getting out there.
I stride over to him first as Gunnar motions he’ll join Crosby, who’s chatting with Grant at a corner table.
“Sounds good,” I say to Gunnar, then head over to Chance.
The tall, deep-voiced, and intimidating closer swivels around, lifts a brow, then shoots me a cocky grin. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the enemy.”
I laugh. “Is that who I am to you guys now?”
“What else would you be?”
I shake my head, amused. “So that’s why you guys invited me here? To celebrate with the enemy?”
“Don’t you know the saying?” He drops his voice to a stage whisper. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
Sierra rolls her brown eyes, cutting in. “Just ignore him. He’s ridiculous. Also, nobody is ever an enemy at my bar, Holden.”
“Thank you very much, Sierra. I appreciate that.” I slug Chance on his thick slab of an arm, then gesture to Sierra. “See? She welcomes me. She likes me.”
Yup, these two are quite a distraction. They’re like a sideshow, thanks to Chance.
Sierra flashes a bright smile then flicks a strand of her pink-tipped hair off her shoulder. “Everyone at the Spotted Zebra is a friend.”
