CHAPTER 9 BEN
“Is it okay if my sister comes?” Luke asks.
We just got back to the locker room after a rather competitive game of three-on-three on the basketball court, and I wipe my face with a towel.
“You invited Kaylee?” Jack asks.
“She badgered me until I gave in.”
I blow out a breath. “Invite whoever you want.” I turn to Jack. “Are you coming?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Are you lifting today?” he asks.
I shake my head. I limit my weightlifting these days. I’m convinced it shortens careers, and instead I focus on strength training—like running around on a basketball court for an hour. “I’ve got squats and lunges next. You?”
“Weights. I’ll see you fuckers later.”
I nod as he leaves the locker room.
It’s the month of April, which means it’s time for my annual Beach Bash. There aren’t a lot of beaches in Vegas, though, so I rethemed to a Pool Party, and I’m taking over one of the luxurious pools at Caesar’s Palace all day tomorrow.
Once I’m done with my workout, I’m free for another Friday night in Vegas, and that means one thing: drinking beer, eating hot wings, and looking at tits.
Jack used to join me on my ventures to watch women dance half-naked, but he’s too busy being in a relationship now.
I’ve got buddies in just about every major city, and Vegas is no different.
I toss out a few texts to see who’s around, and I get bites back from Pete, Chris, and Cory.
Chris and Cory play for the Aces, and Pete’s a guy I’ve known several years.
While I have buddies in every major city, real friends are a little harder to come by. Jack is my closest friend here in Vegas, and by extension his brother is a friend, too.
It’s hard to know these days whether people are true friends or if they want something out of me like a fun night where I foot the bill, or tickets to a game, or a fucking donation to their savings account.
It’s happened, and it always feels like shit. But when you’ve acquired the rep as the league’s resident party guy, everybody wants something.
Before I get dressed for my night out, I walk over to my dad’s place. He lives a couple blocks away from me—his choice, not mine—and he’s the person who probably knows me best in the entire world.
I ring the bell four times, and he opens it half a minute later.
“Once is sufficient,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me.
He’s wearing a black and white flannel shirt with jeans today.
The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and I don’t know how the man doesn’t get heat stroke in the Vegas desert with his damn flannels, but he’s the kind of guy who’s set in his ways.
I laugh. “Four is more fun,” I say, and it’s the same exchange we have every time I surprise him with a visit.
He opens the door wider, and I walk in and collapse on his recliner.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks.
“Just visiting my favorite person in the world before a wild night out.”
“Wild?” he repeats.
“I was born to be wild, remember?” I shrug. “I’m catching a dancing show with some buddies ahead of tomorrow’s Pool Party.”
“Dancing show?”
“Strippers,” I clarify.
He narrows his eyes again. “Right. And Pool Party, First Game Fiesta, Beach Bash, Shithead Shindig…where does it stop?”
“Shithead Shindig isn’t a thing, but I like the way you think.” I pull out my phone and write it into a note so I don’t forget it.
He blinks and shakes his head, his expression stoic as always. He’s my opposite in pretty much every way. “Don’t get into trouble.”
I shrug. “I’ll fly under the radar.”
“You know how many guys would give anything for your job?”
I nod. “Well aware of that stat, thanks Dad. Listen, can you swing by and let Buddy out around nine tonight and then watch him tomorrow since I’ll be gone all day?”
“Sure,” he says with a short nod. “Is the doggie door broken?”
“He won’t use it.” I throw my hands up in the air. My dog is two-years-old and he’s a bit of a drama queen. “He saw a spider on it the other day and it fucked him up.”
He lets out a grunt, which is the closest thing I’ll get to a laugh out of him. “Your dog is afraid of spiders?”
I shrug. “Apparently. Also on his list of fears is any other dog, all cats, crickets, squirrels, and his own shadow.”
My words are met with another grunt. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, Jeb.” I offer a grin. He hates it when I call him by his first name, so I do it to rib him.
“You’re welcome, Benjamin.” Touché. I hate it when people call me by my full name.
I stand. “I better go.”
He follows me toward the door. “Don’t do anything stupid tonight, son.”
“Do you even know who the hell I am?”
He just shakes his head as I walk out the door.