25. Reid
TWENTY-FIVE
REID
Avery
Busy tonight?
Me
Yeah. Book club with the guys.
Why?
Avery
So we can talk about the economy.
Why do you think, Duncan? Should I use the eggplant emoji so there isn’t any confusion?
Me
We had sex three days ago. Can’t get enough of me?
Avery
I can’t get enough of your dick. Not you.
Me
I’ll text you when we’re finished, but no promises.
Avery
Cool.
Before I go…
*Attachment: 1 video*
We won last night. Time to play the song!
Me
My ears are bleeding.
You have a 1-2 record.
Avery
So?
Thunderhawks, a oh oh oh oh ohhhhhhhhhhh!
“Pass me a water?” Dallas asks, and I scoop out two bottles from the cooler, tossing one his way. “Thanks, man.”
I settle on the couch next to him. “Where is Maverick? This is his apartment, and he’s not here.”
“He said he was on his way up,” Hudson Hayes, one of Maverick’s teammates, tells us. He shrugs and flips through the book on his lap. “Didn’t sound like it was a crisis.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Maverick calls out, bursting through the front door and appearing in the living room. His shirt is on backwards and one of his shoes is untied. He puts a hand on the wall, panting, and takes a deep breath. “Lost track of time.”
“Doing what?” I ask.
“Wedding stuff,” he says, but I see the lipstick on his neck. “Emmy and I got caught up looking at dinner menus. That shit is expensive.”
“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Dallas snorts. “You have a hickey under your ear, Miller.”
“Oh. Whoops.” He gives us a sheepish grin and collapses into a nearby chair. His fingers dance over his throat and he sighs. “I can’t keep my hands to myself around that woman.”
“We don’t need to hear about your sexcapades, Mavvy,” Riley Mitchell, another one of Maverick’s teammates says. “You’re making some of us feel single as fuck, and we just want to talk about the book.”
“The book. Right. Yes.” Maverick holds up the dark romance novel we read over the course of the month and taps the cover. “Thoughts?”
“I liked it,” I say. “Outside of our usual wheelhouse, but I’m a fan.”
“It, uh, made me question some things about myself,” Hudson admits. He’s a quiet guy, someone who’s just as talented as Maverick but less boisterous about it. “I enjoyed it, though.”
“No shit.” Riley clasps his shoulder. “Look at you and Reid stepping outside your comfort zones and liking it.”
“I mean, I’m not going to go to a haunted house and ask the guy in the Michael Myers jumpsuit to fuck me, but I’d be down to try a thing or two from the book,” I say. I scratch my jaw and tuck my chin to my chest, hiding from their prying eyes.
“Like?” Dallas presses, and he’s never one to nudge his way into someone’s business.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Tying her hands up? Having my hands tied up? As long as it’s consensual and everything. I wouldn’t want to use rope. That seems… extreme. I’d have to study the logistics of it first. Extensively. Maybe something small like a shoelace or a?—”
A ribbon.
Specifically, the white one Avery wore in her hair a couple nights ago when I tugged her into my apartment and pushed her against the door. The picture we knocked off the wall is still crooked, and I haven’t had a second to fix it.
“Why are you blushing?” Maverick narrows his eyes. “You’re hiding something.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” I argue. I grab a handful of pretzels and shove them in my mouth so I don’t have to say anything else. The less interested I pretend to be, the less he’ll care.
“My favorite part was?—”
“Hang on, G. Something isn’t adding up here,” Maverick says, interrupting Grant, his younger teammate. He pops to his feet and walks over to me. “What the fuck is going on, Duncan?”
I groan and scrub a hand over my face. There’s no use trying to hide this from them. They’re going to find out eventually.
“I might have stumbled into a frenemies with benefits situation,” I grumble, shielding my face with the book. “With Avery.”
“Who is Avery?” Ethan, another DC Stars player asks.
“She sounds hot,” Grant chimes in.
“So that’s why you wanted to know her coffee order,” Dallas says.
“Your wife is on my shit list for spilling my secrets,” I say.
“I knew it,” Maverick exclaims. “I fucking knew it. You’ve been staring at your phone nonstop lately. Oh my god . You’re sending dick pics, aren’t you?”
“I am not sending dick pics,” I say, then I panic. “Should I be sending dick pics? I’m not sure how all this works. What’s the proper protocol? We’ve hooked up a few times and?—”
“A few times? Look at our Reidy Boy living a double life,” Maverick says.
“Can we go back to talking about masked men, please?” I beg.
“Knock it off, Mav,” Dallas says, and I shoot him a grateful look. “Show some respect.”
“Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to force you into telling us,” Maverick says.
“You didn’t. I kept my mouth shut because it didn’t seem like something to make a big deal about. Not when you two are settled down with weddings and engagements. We’re having fun, which is something I’ve never, ever done.” I shrug again. “It’s different to live in the moment.”
“Good different?” Dallas asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “I feel like one of you guys.”
“You’re happy, right?” Hudson asks. “You’re not going along with it just because you feel like you have to?”
“No.” I shake my head and bite back a smile. It was fun to make Pop-Tarts with her in my kitchen at midnight. To sit side by side on the couch and knock out some work after our home games on Sunday, only shutting my computer down when Avery took off her shirt and straddled me. It was nice to lend her a pair of socks that dwarfed her feet when she said she was cold. Those things make me happy. Happy for now, at least, because the second we’re behind our phones, I get her usual snark. “It works for us. We hook up, then after, it’s back to business.” I cut a glance over to Maverick. “I see why you were fucking giddy the first few months you and Emmy did this. I feel like I’m smiling nonstop.”
“That could also be because you haven’t slept with anyone in three years. Good sex will do that to you,” Maverick says, and the guys all murmur in agreement. “But we’ll stop talking about Reid’s bedroom habits and switch back to masked men. Now, on the subject of morally gray, I’d argue that…”
The next hour devolves into lighthearted mayhem, each of us making a passionate plea about our opinionated stances and trying to nudge the others to our side. It’s always been like this, ever since our first meeting when there were just four of us.
The group has expanded over the last year, with some guys only staying a month or two before they lose interest or leave DC. It comes with being a professional athlete, and it makes me glad I don’t have to worry about new cities. New friends or new routines. I can stay here and do everything exactly how I like, exactly how I’ve always done it.
My attention gets pulled from the discussion on bondage when my phone lights up on the end table. I pick it up and see Avery’s name.
There’s a photo attached to her message, one that has me stifling a groan with my fist and wishing I wasn’t in a room surrounded by my friends.
It’s her in a dressing room wearing a piece of lingerie. The straps are falling down her arms, almost hooking around her elbows. The neckline shows off her cleavage and the swell of her tits. The underwear hugs the curve of her hips, and I spot the fingerprints I left behind the other night.
The lighting might be dim.
The picture might be blurry—taken as an afterthought, maybe—but that doesn’t stop my imagination from running wild.
From wondering what it would be like to fuck her in front of those mirrors.
How that silk would feel between my fingers and how easily it would rip.
Avery
What do you think?
Me
Hang on a sec. I’ll send you my credit card number.
Buy as many as you want.
Avery
Do you think you make more money than me?
Me
I hope we’re paid the same, but that was a desperate way to say I’d like to see you in one of every fucking color.
Purple is my favorite, though.
My brain is short-circuiting.
Avery
Good. I hope book club is fun.
Me
Come over after.
Avery
Now who wants who again?
Me
Please?
I can’t think of a more coherent response.
I do want her again, and it’s confusing as hell.
She’s not part of the routine, an anomaly that’s throwing a wrench in my plans of staying focused. Of keeping my eyes on the prize; not just our bet, but the incentives set by my manager too.
How the hell am I supposed to say no to that , though?
Guys like me don’t get women like her.
Maverick and Dallas and Hudson and Riley get women like her. They breathe, and women fall to their feet.
Me?
No fucking chance.
Every time I’m with Avery, it still feels like a fever dream.
Outside the bedroom, she irritates the ever-loving shit out of me.
She makes me want to pull my hair out and has me furiously answering comments like my fingers are going to fall off if I don’t get to them fast enough.
It’s different behind closed doors when we put our phones away.
Work and life get paused when she shows up at my apartment, and I can be someone else for a little while.
The dude who scores a goddamn beauty queen.
Avery
I should go pay for this before they think I’m trying to rob the place.
Me
You’re too good to do something like that.
Avery
What if I want to be a little bad, though?
Me
Going to block you now. I don’t want to get hard around my friends.
“You okay, Plant Daddy?” Maverick asks. “You look a little red.”
“Fine. Just peachy. It’s sunburn. From being outside. In the sun. Warm weather. Climate change.” I bob my head and pull on my collar. “You know. Save the turtles.”
Dallas smirks. “Let him be, Mav.”
“Speaking of sunburn, you all are confirmed for the softball game, right? Our donations surpassed last year, and there’s still a week and a half to go,” Maverick says proudly. “We’re going to have a good turnout.”
“Still can’t believe you got me to agree to play competitive sports.” I stand and tuck my book close to my chest, thumbing through the pages. “But I’ll be there.”
“I’m a man of many talents,” Maverick says. “You heading out?”
“Yeah. I have some work stuff I need to wrap up,” I say, and it’s the first time I’ve ever lied to them. “Thanks for another great chat, gentlemen.”
I wait until I’m safely downstairs and away from their prying eyes before I read the last message I received. The one from Avery that’s been burning a hole in my pocket since she sent it fifteen minutes ago.
Avery
You’d miss me too much if you blocked me.
Me
I’m heading home.
I know you have an early flight tomorrow, but if you want to be bad, I’d really like it if you came over.
Avery
Bad, huh?
Me
Sorry. My dirty talking is shit.
Avery
I think it’s perfect.
And I’m already on my way.