The Sweetest Game (The Perfect Game 3)

“What about your wife? Does she have any sisters?”

I sat up straighter. “Holy shit, does she? I never even thought about that. I mean, of course, I wouldn’t but—” I stopped abruptly, realizing that didn’t exactly come out right.

Matteo chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry. She’s all mine and there’s only one of her. ”

“Fucking figures,” Dean muttered under his breath.

“Do you care where we drink?” Matteo asked.

“Somewhere private. No sports bars or shit like that,” I insisted.

“Do you really think I’d take you to a sports bar? I’m hurt, man. Crushed. ”

“So, where are we going?” Dean asked as the car slowed to a stop.

I looked out the window, recognizing the entrance from a profile shoot Cassie had done on historical bars in the city.

“I know this place. Cassie photographed it for the magazine. ”

Matteo threw his head back. “That’s right! I remember that. This place used to be a speakeasy. Sinatra used to hang out here with his boys. It’s pretty cool. Lots of history. ”

We walked into the dimly lit bar and paused for a second so our eyes could adjust. Coming inside from the bright afternoon sunshine, this place seemed almost as dark as night. Giving the bartender a nod, Matteo pointed toward the back of the room, where a velvet rope hung. The three of us headed toward the small table behind the rope. The place was virtually empty, except for the few guys sitting at the bar. I prayed they wouldn’t recognize me.

“I’ll grab us drinks,” Matteo offered. “What are we having?”

“Beer for me. Whatever’s on tap and good,” I responded.

“Same here,” Dean added.

I waited for Matteo to return before I started asking Dean any questions, figuring he might have some outside perspective to offer. A few minutes later he came back, balancing all three beers in his hands before setting them on the table without spilling a drop.

“You’re a fucking boss,” I said, complimenting him on his skills before tapping my glass against his.

“Ah, I used to tend bar in college,” he said, and I laughed, almost spitting my beer at him.

“Why am I not surprised?” I took a deep swig of the beer, closing my eyes for a second in appreciation of its icy goodness.

“The real question is why is that so funny?”

I shrugged and said, “I have no fucking idea. ” Then I laughed some more, convinced my body and mind were out to betray me after I’d treated them so badly this past week.

Dean looked back and forth between me and Matteo. “I don’t get why you’re laughing? What the fuck did I miss?”

“I have no idea,” Matteo said with a raised eyebrow as I pulled myself together.

Why the fuck was I suddenly giggling like a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl? It was like once I started laughing, I couldn’t fucking stop. And knowing that I needed the release only made it worse. I focused on my breathing, pretending I was on the mound during a crisis. I needed to calm down.

My breathing slowed and I looked at my baby brother. “So, what happened?”

“Are you done with your giggle fit?” Dean asked, apparently full of piss and vinegar.

“For now. So, tell me what happened,” I urged before taking a swig of my ice cold beer. I loved cold beer.

Dean sighed and rolled his beer between his palms. “We had sex last night and I thought that changed things between us. ”

“Wait, why would that change things? This wasn’t the first time you two …” I paused, eyeing him.

“Yes. It was the first time. Melissa knows how I feel about her. She knows. ” He shook his head and I could see that he was hurting.