Bad Ballers: A Contemporary Sports Romance Box Set

by Bishop, S. J.

  I shrugged. That was probably true. “Okay. I’m in.”

  25

  Erin

  Lucy had gotten pretty pissy when Casey had invited herself over. Casey went out of her way to be polite, but Lucy was short and dismissive with her answers. Finally, unable to sit in Lucy’s awkward company any longer, Casey had suggested we go out.

  Going out sounded good to me. It was exhausting trying to be chipper when all I felt was disappointed. And heartbroken. All over again.

  Now, at least, I knew why Ted didn’t want to talk too much about our history. The more Lucy showed me pictures of high school, the more a clear picture was starting to emerge. Reading and decoding the sparse notes in my yearbook, going back through the photos that Lucy had brought – I remembered more than I’d thought I would.

  I remembered going to homecoming with Ted during our senior year. He’d been named to the court and had to dance with Amy Weeks; I’d been insecure and miserable the rest of the night. I could remember begging Ted to tell me I had nothing to worry about and Ted responding that he was sick of needing to ‘prop me up’ all of the time. “Get some goddamn self-esteem!” he’d ordered. He’d driven home after fighting with me in the hallway. Lucy had given me a lift back to my house.

  Beyond some not-so-fond memories of Ted, I also remembered a few of my teachers and a few of my classes. What I couldn’t remember, Lucy supplied, and we only stopped when my head started to hurt.

  It was as if those yearbooks had created a crack in Pandora’s box. Memories were slipping out now, slowly. And a lot of them were of Ted.

  In an effort to combat my misery, I went over the top getting ready. I put on a black mini-skirt that I had absolutely no recollection of purchasing and that didn’t at all match the style of any of my other clothes. I put on a bright-red blouse and matching red lipstick. I put on black high heels.

  When I came out, Casey gave me the thumbs up, and Lucy gave me a small smile. We were ready to roll.

  We went to a popular bar near the end of Boylston Street, not far from the Fens. Casey bought us our first round of shots – tequila – and we tossed them back. I got the second round, and soon we were feeling warm enough to at least flirt with the idea of dancing. Despite being confused, a bit inundated, and definitely overwhelmed, I was also ready to push all of that aside and just have fun.

  That was, until Damon walked in.

  I spotted him immediately, as if some sixth sense twitched. He was with two friends who – I was willing to bet – were police buddies, based on their confident, heavy-footed stroll.

  “I can’t believe you ever dated that,” said Casey, linking her arm through mine. “God, he looks so greasy.”

  I had to admit, next to Ted, Damon looked…a bit less polished. His dark hair was slicked back, and he wore his golden horn chain around his neck and a dark green button-up shirt that was unbuttoned enough to see the dark curls of his chest hair.

  He spotted me. And he did a double take.

  “Uh-oh,” murmured Casey as Damon headed over. I felt my eyes drop to his wedding ring, and suddenly, a strange memory came back to me. A woman, her hands turning over a card and her frowning. When had I visited a psychic? Just before the accident? I pushed the thought away. There was no way I’d gone to see a psychic on Charles Street the night of the accident. My mind must be playing tricks on me.

  “Erin. I’m so glad to see you up and about,” said Damon. He did sound glad. He leaned down, crowding me and planting a warm kiss on my cheek. He smelled like bourbon. This wasn’t his first bar this evening.

  “Where’s the missus?” I heard myself ask before I could stop.

  “In Florida, visiting her mother,” said Damon. He grinned. “Wanna dance?”

  I felt Casey pinch my arm, but fuck it, I did want to dance with Damon. I wanted to dance with someone who wasn’t Ted. I wanted a man’s arms around me. So I let him lead me out onto the dance floor.

  I’d forgotten what a good dancer Damon was. He moved perfectly to the rhythm, his hand resting chastely on my waist. Oh, I remembered this feeling. With Ted, I was constantly on edge. Was he interested in me? Wasn’t he? He never said. He never said anything. I had to guess all of the time.

  But I’d never had to guess with Damon. He’d told me he loved me during that first month of dating. We’d seen the whole city together, spent almost every night in each other’s beds. Why had we ever broken up? Because I’d thought he was cheating on me? What evidence had I had of that? I couldn’t remember.

  I closed my eyes, the drinks making me slightly heavy-headed, and I let Damon move me to the beat.

  I felt it when he pulled me closer and tilted my head up as his came down. He rested his forehead against mine as I curled my hand up to his neck.

  “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” said Damon. Could I do it? Could I kiss a married man?

  The image of a duffle bag popped into my head: a gym bag, on the ground, near a pair of sneakers. I unzipped the corner of it, looking to see if I’d left one of my hair ties in his bag.

  There was a pair of black panties. Lace ones.

  I pulled them out, slowly. They were expensive. Not the Target brand I usually wore.

  I unclasped my hands from Damon’s neck. Put a bit of distance between us. Damon looked down, a question in his eyes. My smile was as friendly as I could make it. What was I thinking? As if I’d even needed the memory – the evidence was in front of me. He was married, and yet, here he was with me. He might have said he loved me, over and over again. But he’d been eager enough to cheat on me, to lie to me. I wasn’t angry about it; I was sad. I felt heartbroken all over again. “I have to get back to my friends,” I said, pulling away and winking at him. “Thanks for the dance.”

  “That’s one way to take care of him,” said Casey when I joined her back at the bar.

  “Is it?” I said, waving at the bartender to pour me…something.

  “That was the biggest cock-tease I’ve ever seen you pull,” said Casey. She sounded impressed. “You’re usually nicer than that.”

  I shrugged. “Where’d Lucy go?”

  “To get a drink, to smoke a cigarette, to the bathroom…” Casey shrugged. “She’s a tough nut to crack, isn’t she?”

  I shrugged, feeling the need to stick up for her. “We’ve been friends a long time. She was really helpful this afternoon.”

  “You know what I think it is?” said Casey, frowning toward the back of the bar. “She reminds me of that movie Single White Female. Did you ever see that?”

  I shook my head.

  “These roommates move in together, and they’re really good friends, but the one is a psychopath who tries to mimic and then overtake the other one’s life and steal her boyfriend…”

  “What a weird and extreme thing to say,” I said to Casey.

  “Not really,” said Casey, elbowing me. I looked over to where she’d been watching, and I saw Lucy, leaning against the wall and smiling brightly up at Damon. Damon had his hand in his pocket, looking perplexed. I saw Lucy tip back her head and laugh.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know if she knows who he is…”

  “You’ve been friends with her since high school. She has to know what your ex-boyfriend looks like,” said Casey.

  I watched Lucy touch Damon’s arm. “I don’t know what she’s doing,” I said. “But I’m not going over there to find out.”

  26

  Ted

  We went to The Tap Room, but it was too well-lit, and Mac and I stood out like sore thumbs. So Mac suggested Toothpick Charlie’s over on Boylston Street.

  As we walked through the doors, I scanned the bar for blondes: old habits were hard to break. My eyes trailed over to the dance floor.

  “What in the actual fuck!” I hissed.

  “What?” said Mac, looking over my head toward the dance floor. “Are we looking at the girl in gold or the girl in red?”

  I couldn’t answer him. I was too busy watching Erin and some meathe
ad all but grinding up against each other. Fuck! Was she fucking kidding me! Anger exploded through me, welling up so fast I almost trembled with it.

  “Whoa,” said Mac, reaching out to grab my arm. I glared at him as he jerked me toward the bar. “I take it the brunette is a friend of yours? She looks familiar. A bit less bruised…”

  I watched her hand slide up his shoulder, and my vision went blurry.

  “Hey, take a breath,” said Mac, waving at the bartender and holding up two fingers. “Were you guys exclusive?”

  “No,” I ground out. But what the fuck did that matter? Girls like Erin didn’t go around fucking two guys at once. And she and this guy were definitely fucking. The way they moved together, like they were familiar with one another. I took a step toward them.

  “Bro, you need to calm yourself down before you go anywhere near her,” said Mac, shoving a beer into my hand. “Look, she’s leaving. See? She literally just left him on the dance floor.”

  I watched as Erin gave the meathead a sweet smile and strolled over to the other end of the bar. There was another young woman waiting for her. Slightly plumper, also brunette, but without the natural sex-appeal that Erin was exuding. Goddamn. She’d gone out dressed to kill. She’d gone out looking to fuck someone. And it hadn’t been me.

  Anger was swiftly replaced by depression. I could hear her, clear as a bell, standing in front of my locker and saying matter of factly: You just can’t give me what I want. That feeling of worthlessness, that feeling I’d fought so hard to stave off, to bury under a mountain of bravado, sank into me, so familiar. I’d felt like this so often during my teenage years. I guess we never really grow up past our younger selves.

  “Fuck this,” I said.

  “I don’t think it’s serious. She’s with her girlfriends, not that guy. Look.” Mac pointed toward where – oh shit! – Lucy Sharpe had now joined their group.

  “Ugh,” said Mac, taking a good look at Lucy. “Honey, put ‘em away.”

  Lucy’s tits were on display, all but spilling out of her top. She looked just like she’d looked in high school. A little dirty. A little slutty. I felt my lip curl.

  “I’m going over there.”

  “To do what?” asked Mac.

  “To let her know I saw her,” I said, picking up my beer and heading toward the group.

  “You ladies are looking way too good to be wandering around Boston without a police escort,” I said, delighted when I heard Erin gasp. She whirled. Her eyes found me but were slightly unfocused. She’d been drinking.

  “Good thing that guy was a cop then,” said Lucy, not at all surprised to see me. “I’m sure he can escort us home if we need it.” I felt her eyes on my chest, then on my face. “Looks like you’re doing well for yourself, Teddie. Is that a Rolex?”

  I bared my teeth at her. She looked away, her nose in the air.

  “We were just leaving, actually,” said Erin, looking past me toward the door.

  “Well, before you go,” I said, “let me introduce my friend, Ryan McLaughlin. Ryan, this is Erin. We’ve been passing some time together recently.”

  “Have you now?” said Mac, playing along. “You got good taste, man. If I were wandering through a hospital, I’d have stopped in, too. Nice to meet you.” He stuck his hand out, and Erin took it.

  “Ah, this is Casey, a friend. And Lucy, who went to high school with Ted and I,” said Erin, returning the social niceties.

  “Casey, Lucy,” said Mac.

  “You were the one who came to the game last week with Erin,” I said to the other brunette. Casey nodded. “I’m hoping,” she said, taking the hand I offered, “that when I head over to Foxborough tomorrow afternoon, there’ll be another ticket with my name on it.”

  “Already there,” I said. “Three tickets. Unfortunately, they’re under Erin’s name…Speaking of Erin…” I turned my gaze on her and couldn’t help but flash back to the image of her in another man’s arms. “Let me get one dance before you leave.”

  “I actually have a lot of errands to run…” she said.

  Fuck. Of course she didn’t want to dance with me. Of course she was dancing with another man. She remembered everything now.

  Panic rose sharply, and I stuffed it down, reaching out take her hand. “I’ll only keep you one dance,” I promised. I felt desperate. I hoped I sounded confident.

  I watched her exchange a glance with Lucy and cursed the bitch. I’m sure it was Lucy’s yearbooks and Lucy’s stories that had triggered some of Erin’s memories of high school. I hoped I wasn’t too late to do damage control.

  “I’ll get you two a drink,” Mac was saying to Casey and Lucy. “What are you having?”

  I didn’t wait for Erin to deny me again. I tugged on the hand that I held and escorted her onto the dance floor.

  She was stiff in my arms, so I didn’t try to pull her close.

  “I take it Lucy’s arrival triggered some more memories?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light but knowing that some of my anger was bleeding through.

  Erin pressed her lips together as if trying to decide what to say. Then, she nodded.

  “Ah,” I said. “And what do you remember?”

  I watched Erin glance back at Lucy before looking at me. “I remember a fight at homecoming.”

  I winced. “Not my best moment,” I admitted.

  “I remember Michelle Kelly passing you notes in Statistics and you taking them, reading them, and not telling me what was in them.”

  Ah, right. That had really upset her at the time.

  “You said that we never exchanged the words ‘I love you,’ but that wasn’t true.”

  Fuck. She really had remembered a lot.

  “I told you that night at the quarry. We’d been dating almost eight months at that point; I told you I loved you, and you got mad at me.”

  “Well,” I said, trying to defend myself. “That’s just not a word you throw around.” But I knew the excuse sounded as lame now as it had sounded then.

  “I remember feeling insecure all of the time and looking to you for reassurance that you just wouldn’t give me.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” I said. I knew immediately that it was the wrong thing to say because Erin began to pull away.

  “Stop. I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “It’s just, you used to do that all of the time! Fish for compliments, fish for approval. Your confidence was what attracted me, and yet, somehow, you never believed in yourself. Fuck it, you never believed in me. Every time you asked me why I was dating you, you weren’t just insulting you! You were suggesting that I was somehow too much of an idiot to appreciate who you were. I couldn’t just enjoy your company. I had to constantly defend my enjoyment of it…”

  “Well, I don’t think I would have been insecure if I’d gotten a platitude every once and a while.”

  “A platitude?” I repeated dumbly.

  “Like tonight,” she said. “Fuck, Ted, even my ex-boyfriend told me I looked good.” Her ex-boyfriend? That meathead?

  “You know you look good!” I told her. “Why do I need to say it?”

  Erin closed her eyes, her mouth firming into a narrow slit and her nostrils flaring as she took a deep breath.

  “I don’t think we need to have this discussion anymore.”

  “No,” I argued, tightening my grip on her hand and her waist. “I think we do have to have this conversation. We’re adults. We’re not seventeen anymore. If you want something from me that I’m not giving you, you have to tell me what it is.”

  “I want to know why you’re interested in me. You dated Adriana Lima last year. Why on earth are you taking me out?”

  I closed my eyes. “I don’t know,” I said helplessly. “Adriana took an hour to put her makeup on to go out. You can get ready in ten minutes.”

  Erin’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  I shrugged, exasperated, hating how desperate I felt. “There’s clearly an answer you’re looking for. Why don’t you tell
me what it is, and I’ll say it.”

  Erin stopped moving and stepped back so abruptly that I wasn’t expecting it and lost my hold. Her face was white with fury.

  “Erin...”

  “Have a nice life, Ted,” she said. And she stormed off of the dance floor and out the door.

  27

  Erin

  In the Uber on the way home, Casey tried to console me while Lucy smoked her cigarette out the window.

  “You don’t think you were a bit harsh on him?” asked Casey softly.

  I snuck a glance at Lucy, not wanting to betray her confidence. I’d tell Casey the whole story later. “No,” I said. “I don’t think I was. I remember a month before I broke up with him the first time, my mother sat me down. She said, ‘Honey, I know you love Ted. But I’ve never seen you this miserable before.’ And she was right. Love isn’t supposed to make you miserable.”

  “Okay. Two things. First, that was an incredibly specific memory. Did you just get that back?”

  I blinked, surprised, and nodded grudgingly. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  “Second – so you do love him?”

  I sighed and shrugged helplessly. I didn’t want to admit that in front of Lucy, not after what she’d told me.

  “Bottom line,” I said, “my mother was right. I can either lower my expectations or be miserable. She always said, and she was right, you can’t change people.”

  Casey frowned but shrugged. “Maybe we’ll talk about this again when you’re not so angry,” she said.

  * * *

  Casey understood when I didn’t want to go the Patriots game, but Lucy decided that she did want to go.

  “I know he’s a jerk and everything,” she said. “But when else am I going to get to see a football game from the third row?”

  So we went.

  And the Patriots played terribly.

  “Tell you what?” said James, reaching over Casey to clap a hand on my thigh. “The Dolphins should have you on their payroll! Looks like you totally fucked with his game.”