I laughed. He was fun.
“Being honest, I sort of have a thing to do, and by thing, I mean guy, so…”
Shit. I didn’t know why I hadn’t expected that. “Here?”
“No! I don’t have a man hiding under my desk or anything. There are these things called apps. You can log in to them and find…well, basically whatever you’re looking for. We were both looking for something, so we’re meeting up when I get outta here.”
“A man after my own heart,” I teased. “This is why I like you, Jeremy Gaines.” Because…meeting up to have sex with someone sounded fun to me. I enjoyed sex. A lot. It was the emotional stuff I didn’t really understand—well, romantic emotional stuff. “I’ll let you get back to it, then.” I stood. “Now I want to go find someone to have sex with.”
“You should. Sex is fun.”
“Right?”
Jeremy chuckled and stood too. “It was nice of you to stop by and offer to help. I really do appreciate it. If I didn’t have plans, I’d take you out to dinner.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “What’s your number?”
I rattled it off to him.
“I sent you a text. Save mine. That way we have it if we need each other.”
“Deal.”
We walked out together. I told Jeremy to have fun, then made a phone call of my own. He didn’t get to be the only one getting laid today.
Chapter Three
Jeremy
A couple of days later, I was feeling restless, so I texted Darren to see what he was doing. For all I knew, Anson had put him up to checking on me at the center and he hadn’t really come by just to see how things were going. If I were honest, I’d admit I didn’t believe that.
A quick text exchange followed, and when Darren said he wasn’t up to much, we decided to go to lunch together. We then spent nearly four hours sitting at a patio table at one of Darren’s favorite restaurants in Atlanta.
Like at the center and at the wedding, there was lots of banter, jokes, and harmless flirting because…well, straight. Darren had also checked in with me about Bobby, seeming honestly concerned and wanting to make sure I was okay.
After that lunch, we traded random text messages, silly things like what we had for dinner, or a joke one of us heard, or stupid questions like Darren’s: if you could only fuck someone or get head for the rest of your life, which would you choose? Fucking for him, head for me. Or: eternal spring or fall? We’d both chosen fall because of football season. I didn’t know what it was about his silly this or that, but it always made me smile.
We didn’t see each other much. He had off-season things to do, like…what the fuck ever it was players did when they weren’t playing. Interviews and endorsements and things I never imagined talking about when it came to a friend of mine. And I was busy at the center while also trying to figure out how my life had changed so much over the last few years.
West fucking falling in love with Anson and making me realize I didn’t feel complete. It was all his fault. Which maybe meant it was my fault since I took the credit for him and Anson meeting…I didn’t like that train of thought, so I chose to ignore it.
It was now the day before they’d get home from their honeymoon, and I was sitting around my rental, not doing much, so I texted Darren.
Me: Hey. What are you up to?
Darren: Who dis?
Me: Oh, ouch. I just cracked a rib, I laughed so hard.
Darren: If that’s a joke, it’s dumb.
I laughed and called him.
“Hello?” Darren answered.
“I hate you.”
“I seem to get that response from people a lot.”
“I can understand why. You’re pretty annoying.”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“Getting off the phone…well, I am. You’re not, because I’m trying to hang up on you. I’m not sure if my response made sense.”
Darren chuckled. “You wanna come over?”
I hadn’t been to Darren’s house before, but why not? It wasn’t as if I had anything else going on. “You sure you’re not busy? Massive orgy or something?”
“Nah, that doesn’t start for a few more hours.”
I hesitated, trying to decide if I should say yes. I didn’t want to be Darren’s pity friend, but I did feel like hanging out with him. “Seriously, though. You live here, which means you have more of a life.”
“Be quiet. I’m hanging up. I’ll text you my address.” I didn’t have to see him to know he’d rolled his eyes at me, and the call did, in fact, end. A minute later the message came through with the information along with a gate code. Damn, he was pretty trusting.
I put my shoes on, grabbed my stuff, and headed over.