He pulled himself away from the woman and got out of the hotel room bed. He searched for his pants, and by the time he found them, the woman was waking up. She sat up in the bed, the blanket falling away from her naked body. Now that he got a better look at her from the neck down, he saw the appeal. Though he wondered what it said about him that he couldn't quite look her in the eye.
“Hey,” she said, giving him a tired smile. “That was some night last night.”
“Yeah,” he said noncommittally. “I guess.”
Last night hadn't been anything special to him. Sure, he was always glad for the chance to score with one of the women that were always fawning all over him after a game. It was one of the perks of being the quarterback. But this woman hadn't left any more of an impression on him than any of the others had. Heck, he couldn't even remember her name.
She got out of bed while he was pulling on his pants. She sauntered over to him and draped her arms around his shoulders. “Why in such a rush?” she asked. “I thought we could have another go before breakfast.”
“Sorry, babe,” he said, pulling away. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. “I've got a flight to catch.”
She frowned at him. “What, off to another game?”
He snorted. “I wish. I have to head back home.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “I see.”
He rolled his eyes. “It's not like that. My sister's getting married, and for some reason, she decided to do it back home in New Jersey. So I've got to catch a plane back to East Bumblefuck.”
“Whatever,” she said, waving her hands dismissively. “I should have known you were just another horny jock.”
She pulled on her dress and headed to the door with her shoes in one hand and her panties in the other. She glanced at him from the door as she was shoving her panties into her purse. “See you around,” she said. “I guess.”
Cole let out a long sigh, shaking his head. He could have been offended, but the girl had the right to be pissy with him. He hadn't taken the time to learn her name, or even buy her breakfast. He felt like a complete tool.
He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his shoes and thinking about where he was in his life. Sure, he had a great sports career, and with it plenty of fame and plenty of money. And for the first couple of years, banging a different chick every night had been a great time. But after a while it was starting to get a bit stale. The sex was still physically good, but it was leaving him wanting something more.
He tried to think back over all the women he'd been with in the last few years. He found he couldn't remember any of their names. Not a single one.
He wracked his brain, trying to come up with a single name. The only one he could remember was...Amanda.
He leaned back on his elbows, staring at the ceiling. Amanda. That was a name he hadn't thought about in a long time. His sister's best friend. He was pretty sure she'd had a crush on him for years before they finally shared that one night together. He'd had a bit of a thing for her himself. But over the years, whenever Michelle had caught him staring at her friend, she'd made a point to tell him there was no way it would happen. She'd lectured him on more than one occasion, telling him she knew the reputation he'd developed, even back in college, and how she was not going to let her best friend become just another one of his conquests. He'd protested more than once that it wouldn't be like that...but then, he had probably been fooling himself.
He still felt like a chump for leaving her that night. He'd gotten up early, while Amanda was still in his bed, and headed downstairs for some breakfast. Michelle had confronted him in the kitchen, accusing him of taking advantage of Amanda and using her while she was drunk and vulnerable. He'd been so drunk the night before that he couldn't remember who had initiated things, him or Amanda. But the way Michelle painted the picture, he'd practically been a predator, seducing the young, shy, virgin girl and luring her into his bed.
After Michelle had finished berating him, he'd been so ashamed that he'd left without going back upstairs to even say goodbye. He'd felt bad about that for years. There had been more than one time, early on, that he'd asked Michelle about her, trying to keep up with how Amanda was doing, whether she was seeing anyone. But Michelle had refused to even give him Amanda's phone number, and she'd eventually told him to stop asking about her.
He stared at the ceiling, wondering about how Amanda was doing. She'd been a sweet girl. Sure, it had only been one night. But even before that, whenever she was over at the house, studying with Michelle, he'd enjoyed her company. He remembered her being funny, and smart, and full of energy.