The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game 1)

be on any chick’s radar,” I answered, my temper starting to rise.

“Well, good luck with that. She’s relentless, by the way. ”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. ” I glanced quickly toward her before looking away. The last thing I wanted this groupie to think was that I was the least bit interested in her.

Logan handed me two more shots and I drank them effortlessly the tequila no longer a shock to my system. “I really need something to eat,” I mentioned to no one in particular before noticing the basket of bread across the table.

“Can I eat this?” I asked, reaching for it.

My teammate, Vince, looked up from his cell phone. “Huh? Oh yeah, Carter, here. ” He shoved the basket toward me. “Eat up, man. ”

“Thanks. ” I nodded before ripping apart the bread and shoving a huge piece in my mouth.

It was too late and I knew it. My attempt to put something in my stomach was feeble at best. It was too little, too late…the bread no match for the alcohol that already assaulted my system. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d drank this much.

I elbowed Logan. “Where’s the pisser?”

“What, man?” He turned to me, his eyes already showing signs of how wasted he was getting.

“The bathroom? Where?” I shouted.

“In the far corner behind the jukebox. ” He pointed, his finger unsteady.

“Thanks. ” I pushed away from the table and stumbled. Shit, I was already drunk. My eyes squinted toward the corner of the bar and my legs headed in that direction.

Not even ten steps in and Chrystle stood at my side. “Where you going, Jack? Can I come?”

“No. ” I tried to sound as disinterested as I could muster.

“You don’t mean that. ” She bit her bottom lip seductively and I suddenly noticed her tight-fitting top. She caught me staring. “You like what you see?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before. ”

“I don’t believe you. ” She pressed her chest against my stomach and wrapped her arms around my lower back.

“Get the fuck off me,” I shouted before shoving her away from me.

“What’s your problem, Jack? I just want to make you feel good. Help you celebrate the big game. ”

“I have a girlfriend. Why don’t you go celebrate with one of my single teammates. Or have you fucked them all already?” My lips formed a snarl as I walked away, leaving her behind.

A few minutes later, I exited the bathroom, my face wet with the water I’d splashed on it to help me feel less drunk. It didn’t work. And Chrystle still stood there waiting for me.

“I forgive you,” she said with a grin before blocking my path with her petite frame.

“Who gives a shit? Get out of my way. ” I stared blearily at her perfectly made-up face.

“Come home with me. ”

“I’m not interested. ” I shook my head, suddenly feeling woozy.

“At least let me buy you a drink?” she offered and I narrowed my eyes, unsure of her intentions. “Come on, Jack, it’s just a drink. ”

I glanced toward Logan for backup, only to see him crashed face-down on the table. I laughed. “Fine. One drink. ”

When we reached the bar, I watched Chrystle lean across it, trying to catch the bartender’s attention. The hem of her shirt rode up her back, revealing the tribal tattoo above her ass. I shook my head at the obvious cliché. Of course a chick like this would have a tramp stamp.

“Hey, Chase!” she shouted at the surly bartender’s back. He turned around, meeting her eyes with acknowledgement. “Two shots of whiskey. ”