Sacking The Player

She shoves me playfully nearly knocking me to the floor as she slides next to me with her bag of buttery goodness. “Okay, but that still doesn’t tell me why he had his arms around you…” she trails off raising a brow and shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

I don’t go into specifics but tell her how Keith tried talking to me and Tate intervened by putting him in his place. Court knows how Keith gets. She’s threatened to cut off his balls on more than one occasion.

She wipes the grease from her palm on her shorts and I cringe. She is such a slob. I know, like I’m one to talk. Last night’s sandwich is still on my bed.

“We’ve got to get you a new man. A king,” she teases.

“Uh, no. Not happening. Not making that mistake again. Being burned once was enough. And you know I don’t have time for much of a social life.”

“Exactly! Which is why we are going out this weekend before you get back in serious no fun mode.”

I groan throwing my head back against the cushion.

“You owe me. Do I not hook you up with good food?”

“Yes,” I concede. She knows good food is my weakness.

“I might have a coupon for dessert.” She waggles her brows. “If you introduce me sometime, since you aren’t going to hit that.”

I smack her with a pillow.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous already.”

“Pfftt. Have at him.” I smile, although on the inside, the thought stabs at me. I don’t even know why. I should deliver him to Courtney’s man hungry clutches on a silver platter. She’d eat him alive. Might be good for his ego.

Chapter 5

Tate

I

thought I was going to have to beat that Johanna chick off with a stick. She totally interrupted my flirting with Amaya too. I groan, remembering how sexy she was when I first walked up on her in the studio. That woman knows how to work her body. I couldn’t stand for Keith to try to weasel his way back in. She might be stuck up, but even she doesn’t deserve that loser. He has no class. Treats girls like shit. Strings them along pretending he wants to be serious about them until they give it up. Then he’s onto the next willing participant. Can’t stand dudes like him. I was raised to respect women.

I’ve fucked around, but I’m upfront. The chicks I bang know what I’m about, and I usually am able to avoid the girls that don’t understand the meaning of a onetime fuck.

Big Tex and Bucky are arm wrestling on the kitchen counter when I get in. “Dude, your dad’s been trying to text you. He called me an hour ago,” Big Tex grunts before slamming Bucky’s arm down. I don’t know why B bothers going up against Tex. He doesn’t stand a chance.

“I’ll give him a call. Thanks, man.” Amaya insisted on no phones while we’re practicing. It’s one of her rules.

I go to my room with every intention of calling my old man back, but my laptop is still open and on Amaya’s face. I can’t help but stare. I wonder what her story is? I can’t believe we’ve been living in the same building and never crossed paths. But then again, I try to avoid the chicks in this tower. I don’t want someone forming an attachment to me and having to worry about avoiding them constantly. That’s not my style. The girls I’ve been with in the past all knew up front that I don’t do the whole relationship thing. I don’t want to waste my time when I know they aren’t the one for me. I’m too damn close to getting what I want, but Amaya has me thinking and feeling things I’m not used to. I want to know her. I want to protect her from dicks like her ex.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket. My dad. “Hey, old man. I was getting ready to call you. My phone was off.” I pause as he talks. “Yeah, I’ll be down tomorrow. Adams is driving home so I can ride with him.”

Adams dates a chick that lives near my folks. He goes to see her almost every free minute we have. I’m surprised coach let us off this weekend.

We shoot the shit talking about the upcoming game against Alabama and the draft. It’s a way off, but I know I’ll get picked. I’ve got this in the bag.

**

“You’re not going to start prancing around in a tutu and pink slippers are ya, man?”

“Fuck off,” I growl at my dad.

“I can picture it now. Hey, Raul,” he shouts to my stepdad. Raul comes in with a bowl of chips a few beers. “We’ll need to find Tate a tutu!” He says laughing.

“It’s not funny! Seriously, back off.”

“Oh, come on, kid. We’re just razzing ya. Don’t be so damn uptight,” Raul says. “It will be pretty funny though. Can’t wait to see you dancing on stage.” He busts out laughing.