Hard & Deep: A Football Romance

“I'm not drinking tonight, Ollie, I told you that,” Sean said, with a shrug. “Last time we went out I drank way too much and it took me two days to feel normal again.”

“When was that?” Oliver asked.

“Last week,” Sean said, as he clenched his jaw and placed his hand on his belly. “My stomach still doesn't feel right. I can't keep up with you, man. I need rest. I'm old.”

Oliver let out a deep belly laugh. “You're a year older than me, Sean. You're thirty-three, man. It's not like you're eighty.”

“If I keep going out with you on a regular basis, I'm going to look like I'm eighty soon,” Sean said, with a smile.

“We'll see about that.”

The waitress came back with the new bottles of champagne and opened them in front of everyone. Oliver watched as she poured the drinks and she saw him staring. As soon as she was done, she batted her eyes at him and licked her lips.

Maybe I should take that girl home tonight, he thought. Big breasts, black hair, blue eyes and a tight ass. That might be the one.

Oliver smiled back at the waitress.

“Come over here,” he said, motioning her to sit by him.

He scooted over, opening a space between him and Blondie.

“You're an ass,” Blondie said, rolling her eyes.

“I love you, too,” Oliver responded, without taking his eyes off of the waitress.

“What can I get you now, Oliver?” the waitress asked, taking a seat between him and Blondie.

“Your phone number would be a good start,” he said. “Or maybe you could just come back to my place, since I think we both know where this relationship is headed.”

“Relationship?” she asked, while raising an eyebrow.

“Come on, there's no point in beating around the bush here,” he said, wrapping an arm around her.

She chuckled and pushed her hair over her ear. He had her and he knew it. He could feel it. Some would have called it over-confidence, but Oliver just knew when a girl was into him. This waitress was no exception.

“I don't get off for another couple of hours,” she said, looking at him with sultry eyes. “But if you're still here, we can talk.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Oliver said. “Not sure if I'll still be here, but find me if I am.”

Then he pulled her close and kissed her, which she didn't resist at all. Their lips touched for a few seconds, before Oliver broke the kiss. She looked bewildered, but wore a large smile, as she got up and went back to doing her job. Her actual job. Because kissing Oliver was not what she was getting paid to be there for.

The night continued like this. Oliver drank and flirted heavily with every girl he thought was pretty. The more liquor that entered his blood stream, the more he felt like celebrating.

An hour passed, maybe two. He couldn't be sure. But at some point, the club became a spinning mess of lights and sounds. He'd lost complete track of how many drinks he had had. The conversations with fans and friends were on autopilot and he wasn't even sure what he was talking about any more.

He plopped down on the seat next to Sean. “Hey, you said you weren't drinking right? I think I need to head back. That tequila is not sitting well right now.”

“You're ready to go home?” Sean asked. “But what about that waitress I saw you talking with? She's a dime. You can't let that go.”

“The waitress? Yeah, she gorgeous, but it's whatever,” Oliver said, his words slurring a little at the end and the taste of liquor covering his tongue with each outward breath. “There's plenty of fish in the sea. And I'm a fucking shark. I don't care about one cute little goldfish. It's more important right now for me to lay in my bed and try to get the room to stop spinning.”

“Alright, man, whatever you say,” Sean said, standing up from the couch. “Let's get out of here then.”

Blondie and the Brunette tugged on Oliver's arms as he tried to leave the VIP.

“Wait, baby, can't we go with you?” they asked.

Oliver turned around and smiled. “Of course.”