Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Max
“What a hurricane,” Sean Patrick said. His grin said he liked hurricanes. A lot. “I can’t believe you didn’t get her room number.”
After running into a group of the guys in the lobby, we found the hotel bar and made ourselves comfortable.
I couldn’t blame Sean for his interest in Natalie the hurricane. But no way did I want to introduce any of them to her. She was, in spite of her outrageous boldness, a sensitive soul, a nurturer. That was easy to see from our short interlude in the parking lot.
Sean had witnessed the near hit-and-fall disaster in the parking lot from afar, though all he saw was a hot hurricane, missing the nuances. He wasn’t shy about busting my balls over the incident. I didn’t mind. I remembered what it was like to be young and starting out.
“Whatever, man. Trouble is trouble,” I said.
Not that I cared one way or another even if her big blue eyes lit up my libido like I was a teenager again.
That hadn’t worked out too well the first time around.
Marrying my college sweetheart, my main squeeze from my days of excessive hormonal influence, had ended in disaster.
Turned out we weren’t suited. And now eight years of marriage, one year of divorce and two admittedly adorable twin girls later I was back where I should have started. Single.
I should be happy. Would be if my life wasn’t such a hot mess of chaos and turmoil.
My ex, Liz, had just restarted her career in real estate and I had the kids half the time.
Not a problem until the nanny quit. Liz had the girls this weekend, but then I would have them on Monday, and I had no idea where to go from there since we were reporting for preseason practice on Monday at noon.
“I’ve been down that road,” I said, speaking to no one in particular, then lifted the Knob Creek to my lips for a gentlemanly sip.
There were three other guys at the high-top.
We’d driven up together to Maine from Boston.
We left right after mini-camp, the part where we familiarized ourselves with each other and figured out who the hell got to stay on the team.
Not that I was worried. I’d just signed a two-year contract to secure my place as backup to the superstar Gabe Wyatt.
I was good for it. This job was in my wheelhouse.
I mostly got paid for my role in practice, working with receivers and the QB coach and offensive coordinator, and sharing my wisdom from my fourteen years of field experience.
Plus, I got some reps on trick plays as a back or slot receiver.
I was a dinosaur in the NFL, the forty-plus-year-old anomalies notwithstanding.
A young man in the real world, I was in my prime at thirty-six.
But I was an old man in pro football. On the Militia, even the kickers were younger than me.
We had one of the youngest teams in the league.
There might be one or two defensive guys who were around my age, but that was it.
The thought was enough incentive to make me drain the rest of the whiskey in my glass.
I waved at the cocktail server for another.
“No matter,” Sean said. “She’s way too young for you anyway.”
“Got that right,” I said.
“Don’t let him diss you, old man,” Brandon said. “I hear some ladies like a more experienced guy.”
Leave it to the rookie, Brandon Chase to put a positive spin.
He was Pollyanna reincarnated as a fifth round QB pick, a project player thrown my way for development.
He had nothing but glow and grins, and was eager and respectful.
I liked the kid in spite of all that because he couldn’t help his relentless, if na?ve, positivity.
“I’m old for the dating game. No way around it.” I shrugged. May as well own it.
“Dating game?” Sean laughed. “When was the last time you snagged a—”
“Have some respect, Sean,” Brandon said, flicking Sean’s head with his finger.
The cocktail server appeared with a round of drinks for the table and I slipped a fifty in her hand before she turned to go. She was a middle-aged woman, but nice and quick and I appreciated that. Though I wasn’t so sure these young guys would.
“Boys, if I told you the last time I was on the open market, looking to date or to snag a woman, you would realize it was probably when you were still learning the alphabet. Eighteen years ago, to be exact.”
Sean spit out the beer he’d been about to swallow and Brandon let out a whistle.
“Holy baloney, you kidding? I was in kindergarten.” Brandon said, eyes wide in shock.
“I haven’t been out since my divorce unless you count charity events with the team. And I wasn’t there to find women.”
“Looks like we’re going to have to take the old man under our wing, Chase. The Sensai needs the advice of his students.”
“Count me in as a wingman,” Brandon said.
I laughed.
“Not sure I’ll need your help this weekend. I think I can manage to snag a woman at a wedding. Some things never change. A few slow dances . . .” I took a sip of my whiskey. “On the other hand, if I’m going back on the market, I could probably use some tips about dating apps.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Sean said. Incredulous lines furrowed his forehead. “You’re a stinking pro football player. You don’t need no stinking dating Apps. Be prepared to have women throwing themselves at you everywhere you go.” He grinned, the silver stud in his lip showing.
“Assuming I’m going anywhere. I’d prefer not to meet women at bars or clubs.
” I almost said something about the piercing, asked whether Coach knew about it, but remembered I was one of them, one of the players even though I identified more with the coaches at this stage of my life.
I had the graying temples to prove it. Luckily I still had a full head of hair.
“Hell, women throw themselves at you in the grocery store,” Sean said. I shook my head.
“That’s what baseball caps and sun glasses are for, Sean.”
“If you say so,” Sean said. “Let’s concentrate on this weekend.” “
“So if the crazy hot red-head is too young for you,” Brandon said, “that means all the bridesmaids will be off-limits.”
“That’s right,” Sean clapped my back. “But don’t worry, old man, maybe Cat has some older cousins, or some maiden aunts—”
I shoved his shoulder. “No maiden aunts.”
Picturing the adorable redhead, Natalie, I reconsidered whether she ought to be off-limits.
She had all the requirements. She was gorgeous, fun and attracted to me.
Plus she had a few extras, like the warmth underneath the sass and the fact that she was friends with Cat meant she wasn’t a random stranger, not a crazy fan girl—not truly crazy anyway.
I liked that she hadn’t known who I was in the parking lot, that she’d been genuinely concerned about me, distressed about possibly hurting me and had been completely willing to take a hundred percent of the blame. She was responsible.
Stopping myself from cataloging her merits, I reminded myself I was looking for fun only. Unwinding, I realized this was a unique opportunity for it, with no kids around, no responsibilities, outside of my usual world, away from town, away from my family’s notice.
“Then who?” Sean challenged, signaling to the server for yet another round. As always, he was ahead of the rest of us in the fun and games. A mischief-maker of the first order.
But now was the time for mischief. If there ever was a good time to let loose, this would be it.
“Maybe I’ll rethink the age limit and redraw the line for what’s too young.” I waved away the extra glass of whiskey. “For the weekend anyway. For fun.”
“That’s the way to think, old man.” Sean raised his glass in a toast. “Here’s to you snagging some young pussy. Live it up.”
His grin was wide and I picked it up my full glass of whiskey and drained it. I hadn’t done that since college and the sudden warmth flooded me. Time to turn back the clock.
“How about if we get some steaks? I saw a place down the street,” Brandon said.
“You guys go ahead, I’m going to catch a nap and order room service.”
“Old man needs his nap, Sean.” Brandon slapped my shoulder as the two slid from their chairs, reaching for their wallets.
“I got this.” I slapped my credit card down on the table. “I’ll meet you guys later out on the patio. Around eight.”
They left me there to pay the bill with mild hazing, making me feel like the older brother bordering on Pop.
It didn’t usually bother me. But this weekend was my chance, the first I’d had in a long time to let go of responsibilities, to think about myself and rejuvenate my nonexistent love life.
I went back to my room and it didn’t take me five minutes to crash into a sound sleep.
Two hours later, by the time I showered and dressed in a shirt and tie and threw on my blazer, it was past eight and my phone buzzed.
“Where are you, old man? We’re in the lobby.
” It was Sean’s voice and I could hear Brandon and a few others in the background.
All young bucks raring to go, but for some reason waiting for my lead, as if we were still on the field.
I shook my head. You can take the team off the field, but you can’t take the team out of the soul. I had my role to play. Still.
Veteran, wiser, older, leader of the young and restless. That’s who I was for this team. On, or off, the field.