Page 82 of Playing to Win
Chapter 26
“Tol’ you that girl got to your head,” Jamal gave Kyle an evil glare as he exited the shower, just in case Kyle couldn’t feel the disapproval emanating in waves off his friend.
“Yeah, yeah. Bite me, Jenkins. I told you it wasn’t about the girl. Can’t a guy be off on his game one night?”
“Your game’s been suckin’ ever since game one! They just tied it two-two and we play the next two games in New York! Hell, no, man!”
“Back, off! We’re gonna be fine. I don’t need shit from you, man.” Kyle threw his towel down with as much force as he could muster and walked off before he punched his friend in the face. The last thing he needed to cause was discord on the team, but Jamal was pushing it, and he didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. Because the truth was, Kyle had been sucking it up ever since Callie had broken his heart. Every time he went up for a shot, every time he dribble-penetrated, all he could see was her face frozen in fear as he told her he loved her.
He almost didn’t say it. He almost waited, gave her more time. But then he thought about all the times she had looked at him and smiled, all the times she had let her guard down, the time she had cried, the times she had held his hand or lord, kissed him. Fireworks. He could have sworn she felt it, too. But by the look on her face when he dropped the L-bomb, he had been completely wrong.
Kyle headed out of the underground ramp to the bus that was taking them back to the hotel. He wished they were playing at home so he could lie on the couch with Garth, watch a movie on Netflix, and eat some Lucky Charms. But then he’d have to smell Callie’s perfume on the throw pillow she was lying on in his lap the other night she was at his house. She had begged him to scratch her head and when he finally agreed, she had made these adorable little purring noises a lot like Garth made when he was happy. And she had gotten him to watch that ridiculous movie, which he couldn’t stop quoting in his head.
So here Kyle was, thinking about going home to his cat to eat cereal, willingly watch a chick flick his girlfriend introduced him to, and cry into a pillow that smelled like her hair. On second thought, he was glad they were playing away. Now, if only he was a drinker. Then he could drink himself into a coma.
Jeez, he was an idiot. She told him she didn’t date athletes. He should have listened. He should have steered clear. But he didn’t and look where it had gotten him. Acting like a total pussy, crying about a feisty cheerleader who left him with nothing but a broken heart and a damn rescue cat with a penchant for throwing up on all his things.Oh, well. At least he knew where she stood. Now he could focus on the only thing that mattered anymore: winning an NBA championship.
Callie staredat the door of Kyle’s room, frozen. She had been in front of it for what seemed like eternity, but when she looked at her watch, had actually been only thirty-five seconds. She didn’t know what had kept her from knocking, but it was now or never. Timidly, she tapped her knuckles on the door and waited.
And waited. And waited some more.
Maybe they aren’t back from the game yet, she thought. But Aria had told her when they had gotten to the airport that the game was long over. She held up her hand to knock again, but before her knuckles could reach the wood, the door opened.
“Kyle, I just wanted to tell you that I’m an id—” Callie stopped mid-sentence, her face a mixture of confusion. “I’m sorry. I thought this was someone else’s room. This is a room of the Thunders, right?”
The tall, leggy, beautiful, buxom blonde who answered the door in nothing but a sheet gave Callie a sultry smile.
“Yes, this is most definitely a room of the Thunders,” Blondie said.
“I was told this is Kyle Kelly’s room?”
“Oh, awkward. It depends on who’s asking, I guess. And you are?” Blondie asked, pulling the sheet up over her obviously doctor-enhanced cleavage.
“Nobody. I guess I’m nobody.” Before the tears behind Callie’s eyes threatened to spill, she turned and walked down the hall.
“Would you like me to tell Kyle you came by?” Blondie yelled.
”That’s okay. He won’t care that I’m here, obviously.” Her back finally turned, couldn’t stop the tears that were running down her face.
Kyle pickedhis head up off the bar with a sigh. “Man, Jerry, I really wish I was a drinker. But I’ve tried the whiskey, tequila, rum, and beer you’ve given me and I think all of them are nasty. I guess I’ll just admit defeat and go up to my room to bask in my misery alone. At least now I have a good buzz going. It was worth a shot.”
“Sorry, Kyle,” Jerry, the bartender Kyle had met two hours ago when he walked into the hotel, said with a grin. “Never met a man who didn’t like any alcohol. But it will probably keep you out of a lot of trouble.”
Kyle smiled a sad smile. “Hey, bud. I hear a lot of people go into bars to have the bartender listen to their sob stories anyway, and I think you’ve done a pretty good job of that with mine, so thanks.” Kyle had come into the bar right at closing but Jerry, sensing a sad soul, had left it open and made a handful of drinks for Kyle to try and drown his sorrows.
“Best of luck to you in the rest of the series, Kyle. Tonight was just a bad night. You’ll get ’em next time. And don’t tell any of the fans that come in here, but I’m a huge Thunder fan. I just have to display all this New York stuff because well, when in Rome.”
”Don’t worry, Jerry. Your secret is safe with me.” With a salute, Kyle walked out the doors of the bar and to the elevator that would take him to his room and what he was willing to bet was a sleepless night. Or maybe not, with the way he was feeling. Drinking on an empty stomach and not being a drinker anyway was probably not the best combination. Kyle felt himself swaying on his feet.
The doors dinged open on the fifteenth floor and he walked to his room. Just as he was opening it, a leggy blonde stepped out of Garrett’s room next to his and gave him a seductive smile.
“Hey, handsome,” she said, giving him a finger wave. “Want some company?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
”You sure about that? You look pretty sad. I bet I could wipe that sad look off your face.”
“Thanks for the offer, but there’s only one person who would wipe this sad look off my face. And unfortunately, she’s not here.”
