Chapter 3
THREE
EMMETT
“Smile, bro,” Theo says as we sit in the VIP section of Club Tilt. “You’re scaring all the girls away with that resting bitch face of yours.”
I narrow my eyes in his direction, tipping my beer slowly.
“I don’t know why you care. You haven’t looked at anyone besides Finley since we got here.
” The guy loves to act like he wouldn’t throw himself over the railing into the crowd below just to avoid every woman in the place who isn’t his favorite bottle service girl, but I know better.
We’ve been coming here for guys’ night for a few months now, and he still gets tongue-tied around her.
Last week, she put two cherries in his whiskey sour instead of one, and he wouldn’t shut up about it for days.
It’s annoying, but I remember how it feels to be so head-over-heels for someone that everything they do makes you feel like the luckiest motherfucker in the world, so I can’t really blame him for getting excited.
He scoffs. “I already told you she’s seeing Eric Moss,” he says of the Cleveland Vipers starting point guard.
“The dude’s a total fucking jerk. He acts like she doesn’t even exist when he comes in here, but she’s a big girl.
If that’s what she wants, there’s nothing I can do.
I just need to find someone else to take my mind off of her, which is why I need you to look a little more warm and welcoming over here. ”
A noncommittal hum rolls up my chest in response.
If he only knew how familiar I was with the concept—and how it doesn’t fucking work.
After Stella left me, I was a mess. Just the thought of touching someone who wasn’t her made me physically ill.
I kept that up all through college, refusing to have sex with any of the girls I went out with, just in case she decided to come back.
I wanted her to be my first and only, like we had always talked about.
The delusional part of me hoped she was doing the same, even though she was the one who decided that building a future with me wasn’t what she wanted.
The day I was drafted to the NFL, I made a vow to myself that I’d start living my life again.
I was twenty-one, playing at the highest level, and deserved to experience it all to its fullest. I did everything I could to convince my wife to stay, but she chose another path, and I couldn’t dwell on it forever. So, I tried.
The first time I was intimate with a woman who wasn’t her, I spent the entire evening hugging the toilet bowl.
I hated myself for the reaction, but it didn’t stop me from scrubbing my body for hours after she left just to get the smell of her perfume off my skin.
I cried like a bitch—pathetic and dejected—feeling like I’d never be strong enough to move on.
But eventually, it started getting easier to detach emotionally.
I never led anyone on. I always let them know that I wasn’t capable of giving more.
Most were okay with that, wanting to use me for pleasure in the same ways I was using them.
But there have been a couple who’ve gotten attached.
I wish I could be the man they hoped for—one who could give his heart and promise forever—but that part of me died the day I signed my name on that thick, black line.
I’ve been fucked beyond repair ever since, so full of cynicism and resentment that I don’t even try anymore.
As much as I wish I could regret those months of being married to Stella, and as much as I wish I could forget her, she still occupies a corner of my mind at all times.
“Come on, Calloway,” Maddox says as he plops down onto the seat beside us.
“You know warm and welcoming are not in Emmett’s repertoire.
He’s only got two modes—laser-focused and I’ll end your life with my bare hands.
There is no in-between. He smirks, taking a pull of his beer as I flip him off.
He’s not totally wrong. When I’m on the field, I’m locked in.
It’s the only place I can truly let go of all the tension that’s built up inside me, channeling it into something positive.
Football saves me from falling into the darkness every week, which is why I’ve been prioritizing these team bonding nights.
It wasn’t easy at first, because I hate letting people in, but they’re all decent guys.
I’m starting to feel like I can really trust them, and that they’d be there for me if I ever wanted to open up more about my past. I’m not quite there yet, but maybe someday I will be.
Theo leans back, kicking his foot up onto the patent leather ottoman in front of us as he scans the area, no doubt trying to catch a glimpse of Finley.
He’s so fucking predictable, but I decide not to goad him any further.
If he wants to waste time pretending to be unbothered by the fact that she’s with someone who doesn’t treat her the way he would, that’s on him.
I’m in no place to stand on any soapboxes since I’m bound to be a career bachelor.
“I talked to Baker yesterday,” he says. “The doctors said his lungs are strong enough to do the shoulder surgery. He’s going in on Monday.”
Maddox sits forward, elbows resting on his knees as the dark glass bottle hangs haphazardly from his fingers.
“One of my teammates in San Francisco had that procedure, and he couldn’t even lift his arm for three weeks.
Austin’s parents passed away, and he doesn’t know anyone here besides us.
Does he have someone to help him until he’s able to do stuff on his own? ”
Theo shrugs. “No clue. He said the tear was larger than they initially thought, so they’re going to keep him in the hospital for a day or two, but I’m not sure what he has planned after that. I guess we should probably ask if he needs anything. I can give him a call tomorrow.”
“I’ll do it,” I cut in, causing them both to turn my way. “I haven’t spent much time getting to know him like I should. I’ll reach out and see if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Nice,” Maddox replies, pulling his phone from his pocket.
A sly grin tugs at the corner of his mouth as he looks at the screen, tapping out what I’m guessing is a text reply.
He told us last week that he’s casually seeing someone, and she clearly has him smitten, because even when he is around, he’s got his face buried in the device with a silly look that says he’s completely in love.
Maybe spending time with Austin will be a good break from these motherfuckers and their sappy bullshit.
Between them and Jett, who’s barely come up for air since his girlfriend, Bailey, moved to Cleveland, I could use a friend who’s as painfully single as I am.
“I have to go. Let me know what Baker says, and if you need anything from me. I’m happy to help. ”
I throw a tight nod in his direction, slapping his outstretched hand before he takes off toward the VIP exit.
Theo is the next to go, glancing around one last time and leaving a few one-hundred-dollar bills on the table for Finley.
Once he’s gone, I sit there for a couple more minutes with my head back and my eyes closed, preparing myself to return to my cold, empty apartment alone.