Kyle
I’M LYING facedown in bed, with one hand hanging over the side. My mind and body are exhausted. All the more reason for the frown on my face when my phone pulls me from my sleep. Too tired to lift my arm to answer, I ignore it at first. However, it rings again, letting me know I’m not getting back to sleep without addressing whoever’s on the other end.
Reaching out, I search for the annoying device on the nightstand beside my head. When it’s in my hand I answer, not bothering to fully open my eyes.
“Hello,” I rasp, tiredly.
“Hey there, you sound like you haven’t started moving this morning.” Michael’s voice comes through the line.
My head whips back, a sour expression crossing my face. In true Michael fashion, he’s acting as if nothing ever happened between us. This is his thing. Wait around for me to start feeling lonely, knowing how closed off I am to dating and that I just don’t have the time for it to begin with.
Usually if we break up, I don’t get back into dating right away. He relies on this, giving me enough time to miss having someone in my life so he can have his way when he reappears.
Nah, not today. I’m not in the mood. With my jaw set tight, I open my eyes and hit the end button. It’s time I close the door on Michael. Enough is enough. I’m not falling back into his web.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand.
I take my ass back to sleep, hoping to get a few more minutes at least before my alarm goes off for practice. I punch the pillow under my head, when the alarm comes to life not that much later. I groan, knowing that single interruption is going last all day.
I wish I could say that call was the end of my shitty morning. It was just the beginning, and the day has spiraled out, leaving me in a funky mood.
Two of our starters got injured during practice. It wasn’t even a full practice. We had a game tonight. The season hasn’t started, and we’re down some of our best players. It only places more of a demand on me. A demand and attention I try to avoid at all costs.
We were looking good up until this morning. We bombed tonight’s game. My team’s morale has dropped way down. They’ve thrown in the towel. I couldn’t be more pissed.
I decided to go out with the team to see if I could help spark our chemistry. Sometimes all the guys need is a little time together off the court to gel again. However, tonight it just doesn’t seem to be working.
It could be because these fools chose a strip club to party at. Half of the married guys looked lost, guilty, or scared out of their minds. The other half are in the middle of something they’ll regret at some point, if not by sunrise. Then you have the single guys partaking and encouraging it all.
Me, I’ve been off to the side feigning interest, while stewing in the fact that this team is falling apart before my eyes. The foolishness some of these guys are getting themselves into tonight is bound to show up sometime in the middle of the season or, God forbid, during finals.
“Listen, sweetheart, can you give a minute to answer this call?” I say to the stripper dancing in my lap.
Shorty is nice. We’ve been chilling in the cut while I keep the money flowing. Having her here has kept attention off me as well as serving to keep her coworkers at bay.
I’ve learned she’s the mother of two, trying to pay her way through school. She has a little girl Mason’s age. Her soft-spoken voice has had a soothing effect during our conversation in the last few hours.
She looks over her shoulder and nods, getting up from my lap. I pull out my phone that hasn’t rung since before I walked into this place, when Mason called me to say good night. I stare at it in my palm. I miss my nephew’s little face. He was excited about a field trip at school tomorrow.
I wish I could be there to go with him. One more reason for the lie I just told. I just can’t sit in here anymore. My nephew is without me, and this is what I’m sitting in the middle of?
My life has been so crazy the last few weeks. Andy comes to mind. I never did get to see him when I made it back home. Between meetings and spending time with Mason, there just wasn’t a right time.
I pull up the number to the person I really want to talk to. I just need to hear his voice for a little while. I start for the door of the club.
“Hey, Tyson, where you headed?” one of my teammates calls from under a pair of breasts in his face.
“Need to check in at home,” I reply.
“All this pussy and you worried about home? Come on, man,” someone else slurs.
“Grown man business. You handle yours. I’ll handle mine,” I reply, not even looking to see who made that dumb-ass comment.
I’ve reached my limit and the team’s tension hasn’t eased since we arrived. If you ask me, it’s brewing to a boil. Too many selfish members involved. We’re not a family at the moment.
I push my way out of the club heading for the parking lot. I rented a car for the night, knowing there was a bigger chance than not that I was going to leave this place way before any of the other guys decide to.
I never drink when I go out with the team. I always order a vodka, no ice for my first drink along with a glass of ice and water. I never touch the vodka. By the time the guys are good and wasted, they never know the difference.
I sink into the driver’s seat and press call. Staring out the car window to the street before me, I wonder how I got here to this point in my life. I fist my hand over my heart and rub.
I’ve never been this homesick before. Sure, the preseason and season schedule can be hard. City after city, sometimes not a day in between games. Still, this ache is fierce.
“Hello.”
When a groggy-sounding Andy picks up the line, I groan. I totally forgot about the time. I feel like such a dick. He has to work in the morning. He’ll be taking his class on that field trip Mason’s so excited about. Again, I wish I were home to join them. I blow out a breath and make a sour face he can’t see.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking at the time. I’ll call later,” I say.
“Hang up and I’m not talking to you for a month,” he says on a yawn.
I smile. It’s been a few days since we’ve been able to text or talk. Our schedules have clashed nonstop. It’s good to hear his voice, even if it is tired.
“You sound off. What’s going on?” he says, the sound of him shifting muffling his words a bit.
“I’m so tired of this life,” I say more to myself. I’m also thrown when the words slip free. With Andy I always feel safe to express my thoughts and feelings. “If it’s not one thing it’s another. I worked so hard to get my head right in time for this season. Savanna would want that. Now, it’s like my team is just giving up.”
“I’m sure your guys are just taking those injuries hard. That had to be a huge hit this morning. I’m sure it will work out,” he tries to reassure me.
“Those injuries were bullshit. Mack was horsing around, shit talking, and not watching where the fuck he was going. We’re all too old for this shit. Do you want to know where I am right now?”
“Where are you?” Andy asks, sounding more awake.
“I’m outside a strip club. I just spent two hours with a dancer in my lap. My plan was to bond with my team, but all that ended up happening was an out-of-body experience. I could see us all in the room taking this life for granted. I can’t tell you how many of the guys are just happy to be playing and getting a check. The win means nothing to them,” I huff, shaking my head as if he can see me.
“Wow, um….”
“I mean, none of this shit matters to me. The parties, being a celebrity. I play to win. I’m not about being mediocre. Why should I be when I can strive to be great? For me, being great isn’t just about me. It’s a team sport. I do what I need to protect my team and help make them better—them not so much,” I continue to vent.
“I see it in the way you play. You’re one of the best players on your team, but you don’t hog the spotlight or the ball. I’ve always admired that about your game,” Andy replies. “I think it’s a great way to be a leader.”
“It’s how I know to make the right moves on the court. Everyone is an option. If we all become strong together we never have to put it all on one person’s shoulders. No one has to take the burden for the team. Our decisions on and off the court affect that. I don’t bring my life on the court. You know how Baker got hurt?”
“They said he broke his wrist during practice,” Andy replies.
“Yeah, after our teammate tripped him for fucking his wife. Some of those guys are older than me and this is the type of shit they pull. I’ll never lead this team to the playoffs, fuck a championship. They’re all too selfish. Looking for someone to rise as a star instead of us rising together as a team. Looking for someone to point the finger at. It’s bullshit. I’m not getting any younger. I just wish they’d stop and think about their actions sometimes,” I huff.
“The worse part of your job is that you rely on a team. The best part is that team has to come together at some point. You’re a great leader. Your ability to look at the situation from the outside in makes you a great leader. This is just the preseason, plenty of time for things to shake up,” he says.
I sit silently. Do I want the leadership role? I don’t know. On one hand, it would allow me to take the team forward. On the other hand, I’ve been leading all along from arms-length. I let others take the shine while I play the game and do what’s necessary. I fix the problems, pick up the slack.
Yet I question it all. Stepping up calls for new demands, new attention. I have Mason to think of. I think twice about all of my decisions now.
“Yeah, I feel what you’re saying. It’s just sometimes I wonder if chasing a trophy is worth the time I’m giving up with my nephew,” I admit.
“You’re not just chasing a trophy. You’re securing your nephew’s future. You should hear the way Mason talks about you. You hang the stars and the moon to him. He works harder in class just to please you and be like you,” Andy says, with a hint of a smile in his voice.
“I love that kid.”
“I know. He loves you too. I’ll say it again. You’re doing a great job. Your sister was lucky to have someone like you to take care of Mason. You’re making this easier for him. You may not see it, but you are,” he murmurs.
I stare out of the window, my brows dipping. I don’t know how I could be doing a good job when I’m never there. Mas sees my face more often through a phone screen than in real life.
“I hope so,” I scoff, not totally believing I am.
“Trust me.”
I smile. Trusting him is happening faster than I thought it would. That’s big for me, but I keep that information to myself.
Pulling a hand down my face, I mull over his words some more. I’m lost in my musings, falling silent. After a few beats his voice brings me back to him.
“So, a stripper was in your lap for two hours. I’m so jealous of her,” he purrs into the phone.
I laugh. It’s a welcome change of topic. I push thoughts of my team and my worries with my nephew to the side, for now.
“She had nothing on you. I’d rather have your scent all over me,” I croon back.
“I can’t dance to save my ass.” He chuckles.
“Don’t worry. I’ll help you with all the rhythm you need,” I reply, licking my lips. “I have a question for you, Andy. How far can I push you? I aim to please. Are you open to all I can give?”
Andy
AIR WHOOSHES past my lips. I learned from Kyle’s kisses that he can be demanding and passionate. I have no doubt that he knows how to set the sheets on fire. I’m just a bit out of my depths trying to have this phone conversation that I’ve steered left.
I’m in no way ready to dive into a physical relationship. I like Kyle. I’m hoping we can build more of a connection before I have to unveil my biggest secrets. Intimacy is a sore spot for me. I run a hand through the front of my hair, trying not to let my insecurities show in my voice.
“I don’t know. I think we’ll have to see what you’re giving before I decide how far I can open up,” I say as confidently as I can muster.
He chuckles on the other end. It’s a husky sound that makes my stomach flip. I’m fully awake now, with images of Kyle’s sweat-soaked body in my head. I watched the game earlier and couldn’t keep my eyes off of the play of his muscles beneath that smooth skin. Although his face remained frustrated most of the game, something sexy emitted from the intensity in his features.
“Baby, I have a whole lot to give. When you’re ready for me, I’ll show you just what pleasure truly is. I leave nothing untouched,” he says back.
I clear my throat and shift in my bed. I’m grateful for the headboard at my back. I might have toppled over if I couldn’t sag into it. My eyes fall to the tented sheet. I start to feel brave. After all, he’s on the other side of the phone and country.
“We shall see,” I quip.
“Yeah, you’re playing with fire, Andy. I promise, I’mma bend that ass over and teach you how to sing my name,” his voice rumbles back. “On that note, you get some sleep. I’ll see you this weekend, good night.”
“Good night.” I clear my throat again. “Kyle?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop taking on the world. It’s going to get better,” I say.
“I hope you’re right. I’m counting on it,” he replies.
The line goes dead, and I pull the phone from my ear. Closing my eyes, I take a breath. I swallow hard. It’s settling in that this relationship is a reality. The time to be awestruck has passed.
What will I do once my truth is out?
Old hurt and the feeling of depression try to roar at me. I won’t let them. I’ll keep the lid sealed on them as tightly as I can. I start to chant repeatedly in my head.
You’re a great person, Andy. Someone will love you for you. If it’s not Kyle, it will be someone.