Something Real (Atlanta Outlaws)

by Aja Cole

  "It's in California. And it's different. It's temporary, and I didn't know you were so against long-distance."

  "It didn't occur to you the second that things got real between us to tell me you were leaving?"

  "It's temporary," I emphasize because apparently, he's not hearing me. "Don't try to make it seem like it's on the same level as you moving to Canada for a second."

  "At least I wasn't lying from the start." He throws back, shaking his head.

  "We've both been lying from the start." I step away before I push him into the pool. I'm shaking, I'm so pissed off that he has the audacity to turn this all around on me. "This was never supposed to be more than a one-night stand."

  "Maybe we should've left it at that."

  "Maybe we should've." I agree, willing myself not to cry. "I wish you the best in Toronto, Mr. Hunter. I hope it makes you happy." My lips are starting to tremble and my vision is getting blurry, so I go inside the house before I embarrass myself any further. I'm not going to beg him to stay with me through all of this. I'll be damned if I beg anyone to stay in my life that doesn't want to be here.

  For his part, he doesn't even try to stop me and that just adds another layer of hurt on top of the rest.

  Throwing on clothes and scribbling a short note after I pack only the things I brought with me initially, I thump my suitcase down the stairs and toss my things in my car.

  I can't stay here another minute.

  It's only after I've left that I realize I still have the damned ring on...but I can't bring myself to take it off.

  I pull up in the driveway and knock on the door, wiping my hand across my face because my eyes won't stop leaking.

  "What in the--," My Aunt throws open the door, probably ready to rail at whoever's dared to knock on her door in the middle of the night.

  "I forgot my key." I force the words out just before I burst into tears and she doesn't ask any questions, just pulls me into her arms and into the house. She holds me on the couch while I sob in her arms, murmuring to me and stroking my head like she did after the my first breakup in high-school. At some point, I hear her on the phone with my mom and she comes and takes over when my aunt has to get ready for work.

  I fall asleep in her lap with her singing softly to me, tears still tracking down my face.

  26

  Dylan

  “Buy me a drink?” I look to my side and see the stacked redhead, with pouty lips and lashes a mile long. Really, they look a little spidery on her face but that might be what she's going for.

  "Sure." I motion to the bartender and tell her to add her to my tab, passing her the "Blowjob Shot" she asks for.

  "Thanks," she winks, setting the glass on the counter and covering the rim of the glass with her mouth. With her hands behind her back, she cocks her head back and takes the shot completely, then sets it back on the counter. Licking whipped cream off the corner of her mouth, she raises an arched eyebrow at me and leans closer. "That's not all I can do with my mouth, by the way."

  I wait to feel some kind of arousal or interest. She's clearly propositioning me and it's not like she ordered a Blowjob Shot in front of me just for shits and giggles.

  She's primed and ready. I could take her home, fuck her and never see her again just like I used to do.

  It would be easy. No mess, no extra drama...and getting under someone else is usually the party line about getting over someone.

  Despite knowing all of that...I don't feel a damned thing. My cock isn't hard, my blood isn't roaring...I'm just...indifferent.

  As much as I want to forget about Shayla; I can't be an asshole who just uses someone else like a walking sex doll to do it. At least with the other women, I wanted them and I wanted to lose myself in fucking them.

  This? I just feel numb.

  "Sorry, not tonight." I don't want to be rude, so I compliment her on her drink skills and then dip. I need some air, and I don't answer when I hear her ask 'Raincheck?' behind me.

  Some time between never and not happening.

  She's a pretty girl and it's always hot when a woman is forward about what she wants...but I can't help thinking about the clumsy way I met Shayla last time I was hanging out on a barstool.

  I can still hear her embarrassed laugh after she bumped into me and apologized, see the blush on her cheeks and the interest in her gorgeous brown eyes even though she was nervous.

  It was just...endearing. It wasn't contrived and she didn't carefully choose how to approach me or what would make her look best.

  I miss her.

  But I won't be telling her that.

  We haven't talked to each other since that night at the pool. When I went by her room, I saw the folded note on the dresser but I haven't looked at it.

  Can't bring myself to.

  I go back to the pool tables where the guys are and lean against the wall, drinking my beer in silence.

  "Almost missed you there in the shadows, man." Ben comes over with a beer of his own and pulls up a chair beside me, watching the game. "So, you know I had to stop my wife from coming to find you."

  "Oh?"

  "She says Shayla won't answer her messages or calls and she's worried. They're supposed to have lunch this week."

  I haven't told Ben or anyone what went down, and I'm not too keen to change that.

  "I'm sure she'll call her back soon." Taking a long pull of my beer, I lean my head back against the wall and look at the ceiling. "Nothing I can do."

  "Do I need to beat your ass for you to tell me what's up with you?"

  My mouth twists and I let out a short laugh, turning to him. "Whatever floats your boat, man. Just know I won't be holding back because we're friends."

  "You're being a dick." He scowls, annoyance all over his face.

  "Seems like that's normal for him."

  The voice comes from behind me and I turn towards it, wondering who feels like getting their ass beat tonight. I could use a little pain to make me forget all the shit that's going on in my head.

  The man stands away from where he was sitting in the corner, coming more into the light and I lift my chin, prepared for anything. "Jackson, I didn't see you there."

  "That was the point," he smiles but there's no humor in it. "I think we're past due for a chat, Hunter."

  ***

  The bar we're at has tables and chairs outside, and it's a little too chilly for everyone else, but we don't mind it.

  Sitting across from Jackson in silence, I have no idea what he's here for. Well, I have an idea but I was also sure that he was going to punch me in the face earlier, too. Obviously, he knows about Tammy.

  I guess that's why she was blowing up my phone two days ago, but I took great pleasure in declining every single call. I never blocked her number, just so I could know when she was calling and never answer.

  Petty, but it still felt good.

  "I caught her talking to someone else again." He starts, linking his hands together and leaning his elbows on the table. Jackson is dark-haired with hazel eyes and a slight curl to his hair, with facial hair that's cut low. Kind of the opposite of me. "That's when she spilled everything. Well, not without a lot of prodding but I think finally, she's realized that I'm done with her bullshittin' me."

  "That's good," I say, unsure of what he wants from me. "I haven't talked to her since I stopped playing for Washington."

  "She's pregnant, you know."

  "It's not mine." There's alarm in my voice because if that's why he's here, then we need to set the record straight immediately. "Look, I don't know what she told you, bu--."

  "Relax, Hunter," His smile is real this time. "I know. I was just telling you since you're probably wondering why all this happened now. She's pregnant, it's not mine and she wanted me to forgive her so we can move forward and I can raise his child because he ditched her."

  Well, shit.

  "I feel bad for her. How could I not? She's my wife. For years, I fought for our marriage because I didn't know s
he was working against it the whole time. But I draw the line at her coming back to me just because she doesn't want to be alone." He spreads his hands, shaking his head. "Anyway, I'm coming to Atlanta. We're going to be teammates, and I wanted to clear the air. She admitted she lied to you and I remember being loose-lipped about our issues, so I don't blame you for buying what she was selling."

  "Can I ask you something?"

  "We're Eskimo brothers, so I'm pretty sure the table is wide-open."

  Can't argue with that logic.

  "Why did you stay with her? Didn't her cheating put you in counseling in the first place?"

  "I could give you a bunch of reasons, but...it came down to still being head over heels for her. I didn't pay enough attention to know that she didn't feel the same way. According to my therapist, it wasn't about me...some people just aren't built for being with one person. They need variety, some danger, to keep chasing something."He crosses his arms."That's not me. I only need one woman at a time."

  "Yeah, I feel you there."

  "What's up with you, anyway? I remember you being pretty lively and now you look all despondent and terrible. You look like I did when I filed for divorce."

  I'm a little amazed that the man can poke fun at himself. It gives me even more respect for him, and I realize that I haven't apologized for the part I played.

  "Look, I want to say I'm sorry, for not...coming to you. I probably kept my head in the sand more than I needed to because I wanted to believe your marriage was over."

  "I know what Tammy's like. When she wants something, she gets it, and you caught her eye at the right time. Don't sweat it, just...stay away from my next woman, alright? I'll have to kick your ass if we're 2 for 2."

  "No problem, man." I stand, putting my hand out. "You're pretty damn classy."

  He stands too, but instead of just shaking my hand, he pulls me in for a bro hug and claps me on the back.

  "Bygones are bygones. But seriously, that's the first and last woman we'll share, got that?" His eyes are deadly, and I give my understanding, smirking.

  "Not a problem, chief."

  "I just bared my soul to you, so you can at least do the same."

  "Might need another beer for that." We walk towards the entrance to the inside.

  "I'm a single man now, so I've got all night, brother."

  ***

  I'm unlacing my practice skates when Jackson drops down next to me on the bench. Tapping his stick against the floor, he doesn't say anything, and I appreciate the silence.

  "So, I was thinking about our conversation the other night." He starts.

  "Which one?"

  "The one where you're an idiot." I see him roll his eyes out of the corner of my eye.

  "Still doesn't help." I shrug, tugging off my jersey.

  Ben, Lachlan, and Zeke come into the locker room and one by one, everyone leaves to shower. Jackson never finished what he had to say, though.

  I'm lathering shampoo in my hair with my eyes closed when I hear his voice not too far away.

  "So anyway, you're way too in your feelings about your girl."

  "She's not my girl anymore."

  "Semantics. If she wants to take a chance on you, what are you so afraid of?"

  "I'm not afraid of anything." I rinse the shampoo out, running conditioner through next. "I just don't do long-distance."

  "I don't know why you want to go to Toronto anyway. It's not as glamorous as it sounds, believe me."

  "Easy for you to say, you started there. You've already got that under your belt."

  "And I left, too. Ever wonder why that is?"

  "I'm sure you're going to tell me." I sigh, shaking out my head under the water and wiping my face.

  "Damn right, I am. There are so many strong players, and sure, we played well together all the time but there was no real bond. I never felt like the team was my family...more like a carefully crafted machine, and if you fell off - you were out without a second thought. It never felt like...home. It was...cold, almost."

  "Well you were in Canada, so I imagine it was a little chilly." I can't help my sarcasm, and I finish showering, grabbing a towel and drying my face before I wrap it around myself. "Look, man, I appreciate you trying to help but it is what it is."

  Only the asshole eventually finishes his shower and I'm still getting dressed in the locker room, talking to the other guys.

  "Figures that you're a coward." He says to my back while I'm stuffing gear into my bag. "You ran from your problems in Washington, and now you're running from here."

  I straighten, my hands clenching.

  "I'm not running from a damn thing." I turn around and see the other guys have given us a wide berth and are just watching, waiting to jump in if things go South.

  If Jackson can't control his mouth, then they definitely will be.

  "Oh right, you're just chasing your ego instead of staying for a woman who wants you."

  "What the fuck do you know? You didn't even know your wife was cheating on you. Clearly, you weren't around enough."

  He gives a half shrug, belligerent. " I wasn't perfect, I could've been better and I've made my peace with that. But are you going to be able to sleep at night when you're all alone in Toronto, wishing you had actually tried to fix something instead of throwing it away? Running scared?”

  "She knew she was leaving all along anyway, and she didn't even tell me. Maybe I would've wanted to know that before I started developing feelings for her."

  "You want to go to Toronto for your career, why is it bad for her to want to go somewhere to develop hers more too? Shouldn't you support her if you actually care about her?"

  "It's not the same thing." But even I can't deny that there's some truth in his words.

  "I'm sure it would've been nice for her to know that you're a quitter, though." He throws back and I step up on him, my fists balling. He keeps talking. "Go ahead, pretty boy, make my day. My therapist said to forgive, but I would love to have a reason to knock you around a little."

  "Hunter!" The voice snaps out and I drag my eyes away from Jackson to turn towards the door, where Harris is standing with a fierce scowl on his face. "Get some clothes on and let's talk."

  Ignoring him crosses my mind.

  "Now, boy." That's the tone of a man who expects to be listened to, and out of respect for my elders, I jerk on my clothes on and barely stop from baring my teeth at the busybody who won't leave me the hell alone.

  We walk along the corridors of the practice facility in silence, and slowly, I stop seeing red and embarrassment sets in.

  I almost lost my cool and I'm not proud of that.

  "Harris, I.."

  "Do you know why I wanted you on this team?" He cuts me off.

  "Not aside from the obvious, Sir."

  "You're a talented player if we just look at skill, but you're also a team player out there. You help your men out and you have a good eye for the big picture."

  "Thank you."

  "I took the risk, knowing you're still on the young side and you're still chasing your name in lights. So, I'm not surprised that you want to go to Toronto."

  "I've enjoyed this team, Harris. It's nothing against y'all."

  "I know, son." His voice is stern, but his eyes are kind. "Which is why I want to offer you something else. Something they won't."

  "What's that?"

  "A No-Movement clause with your extended contract, your choice. You're with us as long as you want to be, and nothing happens without your consent."

  That silences me completely because it's a big deal for a new team to give away that trade control. This team is still building, and turnover is pretty expected. Right now, my old contract has a limited clause, so I can be traded or moved without accepting but I have a list of teams that I don't want to go to.

  "I know your family is close. I know your woman is here. You can build something here, in Atlanta. You may not get the attention or fame as quickly, but it'll come. I just wanted to le
t you know it's on the table, and we want you on this team, Dylan. Not just because of your talent, but because of the man that I know you're going to grow into, too."

  I don't know what to think, now.

  With what Jackson said about Toronto, some rumblings I've heard and now Harris offering me this...I need some time to think.

  About everything.

  27

  Shayla

  I guess cliches are cliches for a reason.

  I stare at the Clear Blue box on the counter, thinking about how I got to being an extra cast member on my own reality show.

  Trashy tv is fun to watch, but wondering if you're pregnant by the guy you were just barely dating isn't exactly my idea of amusing.

  My phone rings and it shocks me so bad that I almost drop it into the toilet, but I catch it just in time, answering my aunt.

  "Hey, Auntie."

  "Hey doll, how are you?" She's definitely driving because shortly after, she curses someone for not putting on their blinker. "Damned Atlanta traffic!" she mutters.

  "I'm good, I just got home from having breakfast with Shawn."

  "Tell him to drop by to see his mama when he remembers I exist."

  "Didn't he just come over for dinner like two days ago?"

  "And? What's your point?"

  I roll my eyes, unable to help the smile that tugs at my mouth.

  "Anyway, you taking care of yourself?"

  "Yes ma'am," I eye the box. "Just doing some pre-packing for California. Making sure I've got everything sorted here."

  "Have you talked to Dylan?"

  "Nope." I pop the p, "I think it's safe to say that we're not speaking to each other."

  "I saw him in the office the other day. He looks terrible if that makes you feel any better."

  "Misery loves company." Thinking of him feeling bad doesn't make me feel any better, though. It just reminds me of how sad the thought of him is, and I've replayed our conversation so many times trying to figure out what could've gone differently.

  The big wrench in things was his trust issues. I didn't know they ran as deep as they apparently do, and I don't think anything is going to get fixed if he doesn't address them.