So it isn’t a great surprise that I find myself asking Ace about Matt even though I know the topic will bring out a great deal of scowls and lectures. But his phone number is burning a hole in my head, and I’m afraid if I don’t use it, I might suffer some permanent head trauma. “I ran into one of your teammates the other day. He was in here. You spreading the word about our great coffee?”
“Hell no. I keep this place a secret.” Ace looks almost serious, almost…pissed off that one of the Warrior football players has dared step foot into the Brew House. “Which one?”
As nonchalantly as possible, I say, “Matt Iverson.”
Saying his name out loud conjures up all the shivery feelings he roused in me. He was so much fun to talk with, and his offer to show me risks, to take all the risks so I could just go along for the ride…God, I want to test out his verbal skills. I hope I’m not blushing.
“That hound? I hope he didn’t say anything to you. Ives can’t walk by a vagina without wanting to test it out,” Ace says crudely. It takes me a second to realize he calls Matt by the nickname of Ives. These boys and their constant nicknames. What’s wrong with their given names?
“He did ask me out,” I admit.
“And you turned him down, of course.” He smiles. “I shouldn’t worry. I know you can take care of yourself.”
I ignore the compliment and latch on to the of course. “Of course? Why, of course?”
First Sutton and Charity and now Ace? Am I that predictable? Actually, yes, I am that predictable. And that used to be okay. Why does it bother me now?
“Because there are rules, Lucy. There’s a locker room rule of no dating girlfriends or sisters.”
“But I’m not either your girlfriend or your sister,” I object.
“Close enough.” He waves his hand as if semantics aren’t important here, and I suppose Ace and I have been friends for so long we are as close as brother and sister. “Besides, even if there wasn’t a locker room rule, which there is, we made a deal.”
“Would it really be a big deal if I broke it?” I don’t know why I ask because I have no intention of using Matt’s number, no matter how many times I’ve punched it into the keypad only to erase it. “Not that I want to,” I say, not sure if my words are meant to reassure Ace or myself. “I’m just asking out of curiosity.”
“Absolutely,” he says firmly with a frown on his face. “Because if you dated one of them, I’d have to kill them.
“Why? You always say you’d take a bullet for your teammates.”
“Yeah, I would. But if one of them broke my best friend’s heart? I’d be the one pulling the trigger.” He leans forward. “How many times have I told you? The guys on the team are no good.”
“They can’t be all bad.”
My lack of agreement only makes Ace frown harder. “You’re a nice girl. You don’t hang out at the Gas Station and you’re not a jersey chaser. You’re not built for the one-night stands that these girls are looking for.”
“There’s nothing wrong with one-night stands. Nice girls do plenty of one-night stands,” I object. “I’ve had them and they aren’t any better or worse than sex in a long-term relationship.”
Ace winces. “Can we not talk about your sex life?”
If possible, his frown lines become even more prominent, which makes me laugh. “I love how you suddenly turn prudish when the subject is me having sex. I’m not a virgin.”
“If you say so.” He glowers, making me chuckle even more. “Look, Lucy, just because the guys are good teammates doesn’t make them good boyfriends. These guys get offered so much * that they don’t know how to treat a girl right. They don’t have to. They just need to whip their dick out and the girls are fighting to be the one to jump on it.”
Now I’m wincing because that’s an ugly picture of both the guys and the girls involved. But somehow I get the sense that Ace is speaking from actual experience, so I feel even grodier. The thing is, Matt didn’t come off that way. As he pointed out, he didn’t play the football card when he so easily could have, when it had such good results in the past.
“Iverson didn’t seem like a dog. He was kind of nice.”
Ace snorts. “Yeah, he’s real nice. Here, let me show you how nice he is to girls.”
My heart lurches, because I don’t like the disgust in Ace’s eyes. And I’m worried when he pulls out his phone. He scrolls through a #WarriorsWin hashtag, and while there are pictures of the players celebrating a touchdown, there are also plenty of pictures showing Matt Iverson kissing many, many, many girls. So many different ones I start to get dizzy. #WarriorsWin clearly has more than one meaning to the Warrior faithful.
“He’s fully clothed,” I point out, but it’s a weak attempt to make what I’m seeing less...sleazy, I guess. But damn it, I didn’t get a sleazy vibe from him at all. He didn’t look at other girls in the restaurant even once. The waitress practically tried to rub her tits into his nose, but his attention was focused solely on me.