“Dude,” he said, “why didn’t Addison come?”
I looked over to see him looking right at me. “Why are you staring at me in the shower, you perv,” I said with a serious look on my face.
He stared back. “You’re not gonna distract me with a not-so-witty comment and your fake-ass media smile. Trouble in paradise? Already? What’d you do this time?
I dropped my head down and sighed. “I don’t know.”
I looked around and saw that no one was paying us any attention and the media hadn’t been let in yet, so while we finished up, I told him the whole story. Well, I didn’t tell him how I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. I wanted to keep that to myself. Plus, if my body had any reaction to me thinking about it, showering with the team could get pretty awkward. That’s the last story we needed to be on the ten o’clock news.
“I don’t know what to tell you, man,” he said while we got dressed. “I’d say she sounds like more effort than she’s worth. But if you really feel it . . . I just don’t know.” His phone rang and he checked the screen. “Speaking of more effort than it’s worth, let’s hope Vanessa is in a better mood.” He swiped his finger across the screen. “Hello? Baby, baby, slow down, why are you screaming, what happened?”
I stopped what I was doing and turned to look at him, afraid something was wrong.
Deuce groaned and ran his free hand down his face. “Ugggghhhh, baby I was coming home to tell you about that before that skank whore spun the story to make me look bad. Fuck, man,” he said to me, moving the phone away from his mouth. “That bitch works quick. There are some choice pics already on the Channel 5 website. I gotta get out of here before the reporters show up. Yeah, baby, I’m listening,” he said, quickly moving the phone back to his mouth. “But you gotta stop screaming at me so I can tell you what really happened.” He shoved his wallet in his back pocket and slammed his locker door. “Babe, I promise it’s not what it looks like. You owe me more than one, douchebag,” he whispered to me on his way out the door.
He was in for a world of hurt when he got home. After getting dressed and doing a few locker room interviews, I headed toward the restaurant. On my way, I sent Adam a message asking him to send Vanessa a giant flower bouquet on my behalf, thanking her for understanding Deuce’s moronic way of keeping Jaxon out of the spotlight. Emphasis on the word “moronic”. She’d get a kick out of that.
When I got to the restaurant, Jaxon and Mick were waiting at the front.
“Hey guys, I’m sorry you had to wait. There were a few extra reporters I wasn’t expecting. I was hoping they’d let you have a seat before I got here.”
“It’s ok,” Mick said. “Jax and I were just checking out the view of the field from over here. He’s been pretty entertained watching all the maintenance people.”
“Pee-paw! That’s Mr. Eli,” Jax said, right on cue and pointing to the field. “I helped him paint that goalpost.”
“You did?” Mick replied. “Why I knew that was the best looking goalpost out there.”
Jaxon smiled and kept watching all the work happening down below.
“Why don’t we head to our table,” I suggested. “I’m starving.”
The three of us walked up to the hostess stand. She recognized me and seated us right away. The restaurant usually stayed open after the games, but only for executives and players like me who couldn’t wait the extra twenty minutes it took to get home to eat.
After we sat down and put in our drink orders, I looked over at Jaxon, excited about getting to talk to him a little more.
“So did you have a good time at the game?” I asked, leaning my elbows on the table.
“Yeah,” he said, looking down at his hands. He wasn’t at all like his usual bubbly self.
“Hey, buddy,” I said, leaning over and putting my hand on his shoulder, “What’s up? Are you feeling ok?”
He sighed a deep sigh for a little kid. When he looked up at me, his eyes looked so sad. “Why did you tell that lady I don’t go to Mountain Park? You said I wasn’t at the pep rally. But I was. Is it cause I cried at the pep rally?”
My head dropped in defeat. With just a couple sentences he broke my heart. Which I deserved. Apparently I had unknowingly already broken his.
“Aw, buddy,” I said, looking up at him. “It has nothing to do with you crying at the pep rally. Everyone cries. Even I cry.”
“You do?” he asked, his eyes wide.
“Yep,” I confirmed. “But that lady who was asking about you, she’s not a real nice lady.” I looked up at Mick for some help. He just nodded for me to continue. “She likes to tell stories about people on TV and on the internet. And not nice stories. She likes to tell made up stories.”