Chapter 27
Hunter
Gracie is still out when I stagger up the driveway after a punishing afternoon workout. Somehow, I deluded myself into thinking that starting late in the day meant Coach would go easy. Not a chance, and the afternoon heat didn’t help.
I don’t see her car when I pull up, and Kyler intercepts me before I walk in the door. He has Bogie on a leash and a ball in his other hand. “Hey, I was going to take this guy up to the reservoir. You wanna come?”
My aching legs want me to say no, but I haven’t spent time with my friend since I’ve basically moved into his house, so I nod. “Yeah, lemme grab a coconut water and a bar or something. Coach killed us today.”
He waits while I pull together my snack and slap a baseball cap on my hair that’s still damp from the post-workout shower at the facility. When I return, he’s tossing the ball across the driveway, and Bogie is chasing it, dragging his leash behind him.
Half the time, he chases a ball in good faith, but then refuses to relinquish it. He’ll roll onto his back, mouthing the ball and clawing at the air until the ball falls from his mouth and rolls away. He’ll watch it and look at me with sad eyes until I relent and go pick it up.
He’s on his back, wiggling on the driveway to scratch an itch, but he hasn’t let go of the ball.
“You could’ve let him off the leash. He’s not gonna run.”
“Yeah? He knows where his bread’s buttered?” Kyler shrugs. “I figured I oughtta be able to grab him fast if I needed to.”
We watch the dog play a game with himself, batting the ball away, waiting for it to roll, and pouncing on it. He can entertain himself for hours, but there’s nothing like getting him out on a hiking trail to tackle his pent-up energy.
“I don’t see your sister’s car. What’s she up to tonight?” I keep my eyes on Bogie as though the question is a passing thought.
If Kyler suspects I have even a shred more interest in her than that, he gives no indication. “I think she’s with her friend Tatum. They went out somewhere.” He couldn’t care less, so I let it go.
Bogie comes running when I whistle, and we pile into Kyler’s truck. It’s about a five-minute drive through the neighborhood to where we park and walk. Truthfully, we could have gone on foot, but given how cooked my legs feel, I wasn’t going to suggest walking up a damn hill.
“You free after this for some food?” Kyler asks.
“Free as a bird.”
“Thought we could barbecue. Looking like a nice night to be on the deck.”
“Works for me.”
We park and start moving toward the Hollywood Reservoir, where I can see a few dozen people on the same walk we’re planning.
Bogie has his leash in his mouth even though I hold on to the other end of it. “He’s a control freak,” I explain. “Thinks he’s in charge.”
“Who’re we kidding? He is.”
When we reach the path, we let Bogie off his leash even though it’s technically not allowed.
I don’t see anyone who looks like they’d care.
The other people heading our way have a dog running loose as well, a big sheepdog with hair over its eyes.
When Bogie lopes over, the sheep dog bounces along next to him.
They sniff each other and circle and figure out whatever dogs do from those things.
I almost wish people were like that. Maybe then I’d be better at relationships.
Ky and I walk about halfway around the reservoir, catching up on his travels and my life in the weeks since I moved into his spare room.
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am for that,” I reiterate.
“My insurance will pay for a hotel or whatever, but we spend so much time on the road, I feel like I’d get hives in another hotel, but now that you’re back, if it feels too crowded—"
He cuts me off. “Not another word. It’s great having you.” Kyler starts to laugh. “God, I don’t think I’ve heard you string so many words together in a while. My sister must be rubbing off.”
I don’t look at him. I can’t.
Instead, I jog over to where Bogie has grabbed hold of a large tree root and is trying to tug it from the ground, not realizing it’s attached to a tree. Or maybe he does know. Just likes a challenge.
Like me, I suppose. Going after a woman who should be getting her mind blown by an astrophysicist, not a jock who didn’t finish college.
When I manage to lure Bogie away from the root with a dog treat from the sack attached to his leash, Kyler is chatting up two women in sports bras with tanned, flat stomachs, wearing tiny, form-fitting shorts. Some things never change.
He waves me over. “Meet my friend Hunter.” He introduces the two of them, and I see a flicker of recognition from one of them, but she plays it cool, extending her hand.
We chat for a few minutes, and they make a big deal out of how cute Bogie is and how they’re available if I ever need a dog sitter. Then they take off jogging, and we resume our walk.
“Hell, maybe I should get a dog,” Ky says. “That happen a lot, women offering you favors?”
“Not really.”
I throw Bogie’s ball and catch Kyler’s skeptical look. “Okay, fine. It happens.”
“Good to be a soccer star.”
Now I’m thinking about Gracie again and her insistence on calling me Soccer Star. No wonder she assumed last night was a “one and done” if she sees me as some celebrity athlete who rotates through women like it’s part of my job.
And who am I kidding? For years, it was a nice perk of the career. “Do you ever feel old?” I ask, not entirely sure where I’m going with this.
Kyler laughs. “You mean because those two women looked like they were probably in college, and it was ten years ago that we were freshmen?”
“I hadn’t even thought about that. No, more like the things I want now are different from what I wanted back then.”
He mock-gasps. “Are you telling me you’re growing up? Say it ain’t so.”
I follow Bogie down a side path, which takes us off the main trail. Kyler follows me, and we walk behind my dog, who wags his tail like a flag as he trots along the path.
“Seriously, man. Is everything okay? I know losing the house was a blow, and all the stuff with potentially getting transferred…we haven’t really had a chance to unpack all that.”
“Yeah, that stuff feels somewhat like I have it in hand, but it’s more…everything else.”
Bogie comes back to us with a stick he’s found and drops it at Kyler’s feet.
Tail wagging furiously, he looks from one of us to the other with pleading eyes.
“Okay, buddy. Okay,” Kyler says, hucking the stick down the path.
Bogie scrambles after it and, true to form, lies down in the brush and starts chewing the stick instead of bringing it back.
“He’s not good at this game, is he?”
I shrug. “Well, he’s a retriever. He knows how to retrieve, not how to return.”
“Ah, I see. Good to clear that up.” We watch Bogie, who looks beyond happy gnawing on the stick in the shade. For not the first time in my life, I feel jealous of my dog, who knows what he wants and goes after it. Wish I could wring that much happiness out of a stick.
Just as quickly, Bogie has a change of heart, picks up the stick, and races past us toward the reservoir. We follow, and I ready the leash in case I need to grab him. Like if he sees a flock of ducks and decides they’re dinner.
“So what’s the ‘everything else?’ Relationship stuff? Family?”
I pretend to cop some dude swagger. “You know me, I don’t do relationships. I do flings. I do hookups. I do meaningless shit that gets splattered all over the tabloids.”
Ky holds up a finger. “Correction. You used to do that shit. The last few times I’ve seen you, it’s like you’re immune to every single woman in the room. They may not notice, but I do.”
“Yeah. I’m not interested in shallow non-relationships anymore.” I look over my shoulder to make sure we’re not being caught in someone’s social media feed. The last thing I need is my thoughts being broadcast everywhere.
Kyler smirks. “You’re not gonna get arrested for that, don’t worry.”
I shove him off the path with my elbow. He returns the gesture, and I’m sure we look like two overgrown toddlers wrestling our way down the path.
I should tell him about Gracie, but what is there to tell? We had one night together, and she made it seem like we’re one and done.
“Feels strange to have such a strong feeling about wanting a normal life.”
“Doesn’t make it wrong. Only new. Hey, just because you’ve been a player all your life doesn’t mean you’ve gotta stay that way.”
Leave it to my oldest friend to cut right to the chase despite everything I’ve done to mask my concerns and avoid the issue.
His assessment of me, although true, still cuts deep. It’s not like I thought I was fooling anyone. I know how many women I’ve hooked up with for one night. But unlike some people’s exploits, mine have been splashed all over social media.
The worst part is that it’s clear that Gracie sees me the same way.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Well, you know what they say. Admitting the problem is the hardest part. I say, go forth and get thee a relationship. Nothing is stopping you.”
If he only knew I had Gracie in my mind during the entirety of the conversation, he’d probably blow his stack.
Then true to form, Bogie finds his way into trouble, staring at a mud puddle and barking at it.
I take off at a run because I know what comes next, but despite my speed on the soccer field, navigating around joggers and walkers gives me a different challenge.
I reach Bogie about five seconds after he decides to slide into the mud, roll onto his back, and coat his entire body in filth.
Then he runs, tries to stop, and slides across the damp grass.
When I turn back, I catch Kyler laughing his ass off. Reminds me of how Gracie did the same thing.