Stay (WAGs #2)

Hailey: LOL Is that so?

Matt: Abso-fucking-lutely. My flight gets in at 7 tomorrow. Dinner and sex around 8? Stay loose, Rookie. The coach needs you limber.

Hailey: Wow. Okay. I’m free then. Anytime, really. For that. I’m going to go now before I latherblather or sluttyflutter. Night!

Matt: I don’t know what that means but I like the sound of that second one. Night!





Fifteen





Growing Boy





Matt


“So when do we get to see Weather Lady again?” Blake asks as we lumber across Pearson Airport, heading toward the exit. “Wanna double date?”

I glance over him. “Weather lady?”

He nods fervently. “Yeah. The hottie from the opera.”

“Still not seeing how you got weather lady from that.”

“Her name’s Hailey. As in, hail. As in, ice chunks that fall from the sky. As in, weather.” Blake beams at me. “So she’s the Weather Lady.”

“Christ, Riley, your nicknames just get worse and worse,” I inform him, shifting my carry-on duffel to my other shoulder. “Matty-Cake at least makes sense in some stupid Blake Riley way.”

We step out into the evening chill and head toward the taxi stand. There’s no line, fortunately, and we get a car in no time, the two of us jamming our huge selves into the backseat. Blake and I were the last ones to get off the plane, so most of our teammates had already hightailed it out of the airport to hurry back to their respective homes before Blake and I even cleared customs.

“My nicknames only get better,” he disagrees as the cab driver weaves out of the terminal in the direction of the highway ramp. “And you didn’t answer the question. DD with me and J-Babe?”

“Can I assume DD means double date? One never knows with you.” I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket to see if Hailey texted. We have late dinner plans for tonight. “I’ll ask her,” I say absently, my eyes on the phone screen. “But it might be too early for the double-dating thing.”

Blake guffaws loud enough to startle our driver. “Too early? You sent her to the WAGs box, dude. You’re practically engaged!”

Shit. I really didn’t think things through when I gave Hailey that WAGs pass. I should’ve known that it would create a flurry of gossip and excitement in our incestuous little circle. But I genuinely wanted her to see another live game—the woman is a rabid fan—and those were the only seats I could score at the last minute.

Except now my teammates and their partners are all on my case. And even Hailey questioned the move by asking me if we were dating. And we are. I mean, of course we are. I’m not seeing anyone else, and have no interest in doing so. But I’m not thinking long term at all, either. I’m just dying to see Hottie tonight and fuck her brains out. I need the release after this last string of road games. My joints ache and so does my dick.

“My Blakey senses are telling me you’re scared of the G-word.”

I glance over. “The G-word?”

“Girrrrlfriend.” He drags out the two syllables, a grin on his face. “But that’s dumb. You shouldn’t be scared, Matty-Cake. Fear is in the eye of the beholder, you know?”

“One, that’s not the correct phrase. And two, it has nothing to do with this situation. I’m not afraid of having a girlfriend.”

Okay, I’m lying. Maybe I am a bit afraid. But only because past experience has taught me that I fucking suck at that shit.

I hesitate, then bite the bullet and ask, “What’s it like for you and Jess when you’re gone? Does she get pissed? Lonely?”

Blake narrows his eyes, and then they widen with understanding. Blake is so ridiculous sometimes that I tend to forget he’s more perceptive than he looks. “Gotcha. I did that, too.”

“Did what?” I ask in confusion.

“Compared everyone to my psycho ex. I told you about the psycho ex, right?”

I nod slowly. “The woman you were going to marry after college?”

He nods, too. “She was insecure with a capital insecure.”

“A capital I, you mean.”

“A capital everything, broski.” Blake shudders. “She didn’t trust me, and after that relationship exploded I was all like, women are nutso. Get laid and get out, am I right?”

“Right.” Although I’m not sure the parallel holds up. Blake’s ex was legitimately nutso. Kara isn’t. And when she left me, she made some very valid points about how often I’d let the family down.

Blake’s expression softens, as if he’s thinking about something truly amazing. Which he is, because in the next breath he brings up Jess. “And then I met Jessie and it was, like, boom! This girl ain’t crazy, and she trusts me. I’m going all in.”

I shift my gaze out the window. All in, huh? Not sure I can do that again. Last time I did, I lost my wife and custody of my kids. Besides, Hailey hasn’t said she wants a serious relationship with me, just an exclusive one.

“You’ll see,” Blake says cryptically. “When the boom’s there, it’s there. Anyway, double dating. Let’s make it happen.”

I simply shrug again and repeat myself. “I’ll ask her.”

For the rest of the cab ride, we each have our noses buried in our respective phones. Blake is sexting Jess, I bet. And while I’d love to be sexting Hailey, we seem to be having a dinner miscommunication.

Hailey: Wait, I thought you were having dinner before we meet up. You said something about a post-game dinner, no?

Matt: Post-game press conference. Why would they serve dinner there?

Hailey: Shoot. Sorry. Well, I literally just pulled a lasagna out of the oven and was about to sit down to eat.

Matt: Then why don’t I head over to your place instead of vice versa?

There’s a long delay in which my screen remains blank, and I suddenly remember how she admitted that she still lives in the apartment she shared with her ex-husband. I wonder if it would make her uncomfortable to have me there. But on the other hand, I think it would be a damn good idea. Living with a ghost can’t be fun for her. Maybe my presence will help her feel like the place is hers rather than some tomb to her marriage.

So I type another text.

Matt: C’mon, Hottie. Feeeeed me. I’m starrrrrrving.

I see her typing something.

Hailey: Stop whining. It’s unattractive :) I grin to myself. I can’t wait to see her. And get her naked again. I’m dying to taste her again. To hear those breathy noises she makes when she’s close to coming. Fuck, I need to make her come again.

And she needs it, too. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere between our first kiss and that first fuck, I came to the conclusion that Hailey needs sex. Good sex. And lots of it. I’ve caught glimpses of her steel, her confidence, her sexiness, usually in our online exchanges. But in person, it’s like she’s second-guessing herself all the time. The poor girl needs to get her mojo back, and I’ve decided I’m the man for the job. Just call me Matt the Mojo Maker.

“Later, Matty-Cake.” Blake slaps a meaty hand on my shoulder as the cab comes to a stop in front of his lakefront condo.