Fans are great but people can get weird.
When I finish my dinner I hit the showers to wash off today’s practice. Maria will finish cleaning up and head out to take care of her family. Kat will whine at the door after her for five minutes before jumping up on my bed to wait for me. I’ll put on my warm up pants and my gray Kodiak hoodie to take her on her walk. Then we’ll sit on the couch together and watch TV until I either fall asleep with the remote in my hand or she bullies me to bed. Another woman in my life taking care of me. It’s our routine and it’s a good one.
But tonight when I get out of the shower I feel restless. More awake than I should be after the early start and long practice. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s only ten thirty, but I have another practice early tomorrow morning. Six sharp. There’s no time to go out. Not if I want to be smart.
I could always stay in, though.
A text message is on my mind. One I got immediately after practice. I pull it up, rereading the brief, direct words.
I miss you, baby. Call me.
It’s Nikki, a cheerleader on the Kodiaks squad who I’ve been seeing on and off for the last eight months. We’re off at the moment, but when we’re on it’s hot. It’s all consuming and exciting. Crazy, even for me. She’s nonstop in everything she does, her energy matching mine in a way most women can’t handle; I want to be going all the time, crashing hard so I can bounce back up and do it all again. She’s the nearest thing to a relationship I’ve had since I got to L.A. I came close to telling her I loved her the last time we were dating. I didn’t come quite as close to actually meaning it, though. That’s why I got out. Now she wants back in.
I drop down onto the edge of my bed, my phone sitting indecisively in my hand. Kat belly crawls across the gray duvet to lay next to me. Her big, dark eyes look up at me imploringly, begging me not to do it. Not to call Nikki. If I call her, Kat will never get her walk. She’ll get shut out of the bedroom in the hall where she’ll cry and moan while Nikki cries and groans.
I’m looking at those words and I’m imagining how this will play out, and it’s tempting. So tempting. But it’s also a disaster. The sex is hot but the break ups are always hotter. Angrier. Nikki is a screamer in bed and in life, and a night of fun isn’t worth an afternoon of fighting three months from now because we can’t stand each other in the long run.
Kat whines faintly.
I impulsively scroll through my phone, looking for a name. I have to scroll for a long time. I have a lot of names. It’s not bragging, it’s simple math.
Lilly
There it is. Five letters. Ten digits. Twelve hours since I saw her last.
I can’t call her. It’s too soon, and besides, she’s not even the one who gave me her number. I got it from her friend along with the assurance that Lilly’s bark is worse than her bite, but I’m kind of hoping that’s not true. I think her bite is sexy as hell.
What I should do is go for a walk, go to sleep, and get up early for that practice. I should be smart about this. I should think with my brain and not my dick, just this once. Just to see what’s like.
But try telling that to my dick.
I scroll randomly through my contacts, type a quick text message, and toss my phone on the bed before leaving the room. Kat follows me faithfully out of the apartment and down to the sidewalk. We take it easy, strolling around the neighborhood for a good thirty minutes before heading back home. It should be enough time to get a reply, but what kind of reply I’ll get is still up in the air. That’s the fun of it. The thrill of Russian roulette. You load a chamber, a random chamber, and you pull the trigger. Maybe you survive it, maybe you don’t, but you get a rush out of the deal and that’s worth playing the game. Every time.
When I get back home I spot a car parked behind mine. It’s a yellow Mustang convertible. I’d know that car anywhere.
Nikki.
“Sorry, girl,” I tell Kat solemnly. “Looks like you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
She looks up at me with a mournful stare that daggers me in the heart.
“I know. We’ll regret it in the morning, but you can’t fight fate. You shouldn’t even try.”
Kat looks at me like she knows it’s bullshit. Like she knows I’m making a monumental mistake, all in the name of getting a piece of ass. Like she thinks I’m not responsible enough to have a phone full of women.
That makes two of us.
Three of us if you include my mom.
Four if you count Maria.
Five if—I just probably shouldn’t have one, that’s the point!
CHAPTER TEN
LILLY
November 12th
Mad Batter Bakery
Los Angeles, CA
“He seriously hasn’t called?” Rona asks, her voice disappointed.
I laugh, squeezing red frosting from the bag onto a row of cupcakes. “You’re seriously surprised by that?”