Sexy Bachelor

by Maggie Monroe

  “We fucking won, man. We actually won in DC.”

  I nodded, chugging in the process. “We did.”

  “You should have gone on that run with me. I think it did something. There’s something in the air here.”

  I laughed. Jones was drunk. He sounded poetic.

  “It was a hell of a game.” One of the lineman plopped down next to me.

  “Thanks for covering my ass.” I tipped my stein toward him.

  It looked like most of the team had poured in here after the game. The bar was across the street from the hotel. There were bound to be Sharks fans in the area. DC was crawling with them. The fans were loyal and diehard. They weren’t a new franchise like the Thrashers. I bet some had watched the game from this very barstool, but they had most likely gone home to lick their wounds by now.

  “Anytime.” He grinned a big goofy smile. “Feels like it was different team tonight.”

  “Yeah it was.” A lot had registered with me tonight. The way we had come together in the second half. The victory meant more than just a W to these guys. It felt like a turning point.

  I felt a soft hand glide over my shoulder and rest on my bicep.

  “Hi.”

  Fuck.

  I looked toward her. She had full lips and a set of tits no man could ignore. She was wearing a Thrashers jersey she had altered to show off her best assets.

  “Hey, there sweetheart.”

  Jones and the lineman chuckled to each other. “I think I see Haynes over there. Be back.” Jones hit the other guy on the back to take a hint. They moved from my left, opening up a couple of bar stools.

  She slid in next to me. Shit. Her skirt barely covered the tops of her thighs. I could smell her perfume as she leaned in closer.

  “Is it ok if I sit here?” she purred.

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” I’d played this game a million times. It always ended the same way, with the girl under me, while I fucked the lights out for both of us.

  She dropped her eyes, crossing her legs. I followed the path her leg made over top of the other one. My cock throbbed for a quick second. And I realized it had been way too long since I’d gotten laid. Since the night on the beach with Sierra. That was the last time I had held a woman in my hands. The last time I had felt the rush of sex. The thrill of skin against skin.

  And why was that? What was I waiting for? Why had I been holding out like some virgin rookie afraid fucking would ruin my season? Was that my excuse? No sex this season?

  I turned toward her. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

  “Jessica.” She smiled.

  “Blake.” I winked.

  She blushed shamelessly. We both knew what was getting ready to happen. Women like her didn’t drop into the seat next to me for a romantic night on the town. I’d never be a wine and roses man. My reputation wasn’t decorated with romantic gestures and sweet overtures. Women knew what they were getting into. Jessica knew exactly what she wanted.

  “Congratulations on your big win,” she commented. “It was a great game.”

  “Thanks. We needed it.”

  And what I needed was to stop cock blocking myself. In the past month every time I got to this point I made an excuse for why I had to get home or back to my hotel room. Sometimes I led the girl outside just so the guys didn’t see me back out at the last minute. They didn’t know I hadn’t fucked anyone this season. It wasn’t any of their damn business.

  Did I think something was going to change? That somehow Sierra was going to be someone she wasn’t? That if I held off on other women for a little longer that it meant something? Because it fucking didn’t. It didn’t mean anything to her. And I wasn’t eighteen any longer. I had let her punch me in the heart back then—I was too old for that kind of game now. Jessica was my kind of game.

  The kind where the only thing that mattered was sex and football. No emotions. No feelings. No way to get hurt.

  I looked at the brunette. “Want to get out of here?”

  She nodded enthusiastically. “I was worried you weren’t going to ask.”

  That had been her intention from the moment she touched me. I scooped my hand around her waist and headed toward the door. Tonight I was going to put the summer behind me. I would finally get Sierra out of my system.

  I had managed to turn things around on the field. This was my last obstacle to getting complete control.

  I shoved the door open and Jessica walked ahead of me. Her ass was round and tight. I groaned to myself, knowing what I should want to do to it. How six months ago, I would have kissed her and stroked her in the parking lot until she begged for more.

  “My hotel is this way.” I pointed, staying a step or two behind her so I could take in her legs. I followed her thighs, watching them slice back and forth. Nothing.

  She fumbled with her purse and I heard something drop to the pavement. “Shit,” she whispered. She bent over, the jersey hung loosely from her chest, and I caught a full glimpse of her heaving tits. Fuck. My cock should be hard as steel by now.

  I shook my head.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “Darlin’, I think I’m just going to make sure you get home. I’ll hail a cab for you.”

  “What? Why? Did I do something?” Her face fell with disappointment.

  I stood on the sidewalk, waving down any yellow taxi I could. One pulled up to the cubr and I opened the passenger door for her.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing at all. Not a damn thing.”

  And that was the truth. This woman dripped of sex. And it didn’t do anything for me. I didn’t want her.

  “But maybe breakfast?” she pleaded.

  I shook my head. “Not this trip. Have a good night.”

  “But—”

  I closed the door and tapped the top of the cab to send her back into traffic. I watched the taillights fade as the taxi rounded the corner.

  Maybe tonight I had been ready to let go of the anger, but I crossed the street knowing I wasn’t ready to let go of everything else. Not yet.

  34

  Sierra

  I managed to make it through another week before I knew exactly what I had to face.

  At our round table production meeting I had rushed out of the conference room, feigning a stomach virus. I had ended up in the women’s room throwing up into the first trash can I could find.

  There was also my sudden aversion to poultry. Just the thought of a turkey sandwich or a drumstick made me gag. It was the weirdest thing. It came out of nowhere. And I was late. I never kept track of my period, but I was beyond late. It all added up to one explanation. One impossible, hard-to-believe, unreal explanation.

  I walked into the drugstore. At the end of the family planning aisle was a shelf with box after box of kits and tests. There were so many options with purple and pink labels they made my head spin. I grabbed the first three I spotted and rushed to the counter. I didn’t read the percentages or the response rates.

  The clerk took his time ringing me up and even asked if I wanted to join the rewards club.

  “No,” I shuffled impatiently on my feet. I had finally gotten up the courage to walk in here and I had to pee something fiercely. “I’m good.”

  He handed the plastic bag to me and I hurried to the car. I was only a few blocks from home.

  At some point I knew the ice cravings and sudden hot flashes weren’t because I was in Texas. We weren’t going through a heat wave. October wasn’t that cruel.

  And then there was the constant peeing and my boobs were killing me. They were prickly and almost hot to the touch. Something was going on with my body. It might have been eight years ago, but there was a sensation that came over me that I distinctly remembered. My tongue felt dry and I couldn’t believe how dizzy I was. I had to face the possibility that the impossible had happened.

  I knew my IUD wasn’t one hundred percent effective, but given my past history, I used it as an emergency backup. Pregnancy wasn
’t something I thought I’d face again without serious medical intervention. And my doctor seemed to dole out IUDs to all her patients in their twenties. She said it was the most popular birth control, so I went with it.

  I took the elevator to my floor, clutching the bag between my sweaty palms.

  I dropped my keys at the door and was hit with a wave of vertigo went I bent to pick them up.

  “Oh God.” I clutched the wall for support, trying to stand up without falling over.

  As soon as I opened the door I sprinted to the bathroom, tore open the first box in the bag without reading the instructions, and held it under me.

  I swore after the last time I’d never take another pregnancy test like that again. The next time I was going to be married. It was all going to be planned. Down to the birth month. And my husband and I would sit on the edge of the bed waiting for the results. We’d make jokes and be nervous. Giggling together and worried together. Maybe even daring the other one to look at it first.

  But hell no, that wasn’t how this was playing out. I was alone. Completely alone. I looked at my phone for the hundredth time, waiting for the minutes to tick by.

  What was I going to do when I read the results? How was I going to tell Blake? Or what if it was negative? Maybe I wasn’t pregnant and instead I had some horrible incurable illness. Maybe I was alone and sick. My fingers began to shake. I had to know what was happening. I needed the truth.

  I picked up the stick on the counter and sank to my knees.

  I knew the answer before the flashing words told me what my body had been screaming for weeks.

  I was pregnant.

  35

  Blake

  The wind whipped hard across the sound. It cut to the bone it was so damn cold. I couldn’t stay long, but a few days here was what I needed. A place to figure out why this season had been harder than any other. Why no matter what I did, I couldn’t keep the team together.

  While the rest of the team was in Cabo for the weekend mending bruised egos, I was back on the island, looking for the answers I only found in this place.

  A place I could be quiet. A place I could think away from the noise and the speculation. Orlando had given up on us. The fans were disgusted. The commentators saw the writing on the wall. The Thrashers were wasting talent every Sunday.

  I still had to make it through the rest of the season knowing everyone had given up.

  I tossed a log on the fire I had made in the pit behind the house. I took a sip of beer and cushioned my guitar in my lap.

  The strings stung my fingers as I strummed the first chord. Every part of me felt the chill through the wire. But it was what I needed. I wanted to linger in the numbness as I drank myself drunk. As I watched the flames turn to embers. As I sang words I didn’t have the guts to admit to anyone else except an empty backyard.

  The fire crackled as I put the song together, one broken thought after another. I reached for the last beer in the case. How in the hell was I all out of beer? Maybe if the Thrashers released me I had a backup career. I kicked the coals with the heel of my boot. Fuck. That wasn’t even funny.

  I didn’t have anything if I didn’t have football. I shook my head. It was worse than that—I didn’t have anything if I didn’t have her.

  And that’s what I had to face here. That’s why I truly came back in the middle of the season. I never showed my face here in the fall.

  I had to let go of Sierra once and for all, or I was going to re-break over and over. There wasn’t anything I could do until I said goodbye. She was like a ghost on this island. I saw glimpses of her when I drove over the bridge. Every corner took me back to the first time and the last.

  I knew there was a bottle of bourbon in the house somewhere. I staggered inside, fumbling for the lights and grabbed the bottle from the back of the kitchen cabinet.

  I twisted off the top, feeling the thirst pool in my mouth for the relief of the whiskey. My salvation might be in the bottom of that bottle. I tipped it back and strolled to the fire.

  I picked up the guitar and let the words tumble.

  I had to remember before I could forget. I knew she had forgotten. Tonight I’d drink the whiskey. I’d let the fire burn and I’d remember enough for the both of us.

  36

  Sierra

  It was hard to believe this morning I was sitting on the floor in my tiny apartment crying my eyes out and now I was here.

  My hands trembled as I parked the car in front of the boathouse. This had to be the single most insane thing I had ever done. I looked through the window of the workshop building and saw a figure walk past the glass. An instant swirl of butterflies descended on my stomach, followed by nausea.

  Of all the nights for Emily to work late, this would be the one. I needed her. Needed her more than any other time. It was nine o’clock, and my phone hadn’t rung once. I had left her three desperate voicemails.

  I had rushed straight to the airport with the pregnancy test in my purse. Luckily, flights between Raleigh and Dallas were frequent—I was on the next flight to Raleigh three hours later, and touching down in my home state at five o’clock.

  It had all happened so fast; I didn’t have a great plan. All I knew was I had to get to Blake. I thought that was going to be tracking him down in Orlando, but with a quick online search I read that he had gone home while the rest of the team was in Mexico.

  I watched the shadowy figure pass by the window again. Well, I didn’t just spend a fortune and fly across halfway across the country to sit in my car. I pushed open the car door and walked toward the boathouse office.

  I bit down on my bottom lip. I knew Blake wouldn’t be excited to see me. He had made that clear months ago. It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried to call. Every time his phone rang it went straight to voicemail. I didn’t have a choice. I had to do this. I had to live in truth this time. It was the right thing to do—the only thing I could do. I knocked on the door.

  “Hold on.” I heard the friendly voice through the other side.

  “Sierra?” Cole stepped back with a puzzled look on his face. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can I come in?” I smiled, feeling my knees go weak. I’d come so far, but now that I was here I was losing my nerve. And I couldn’t count on body not to roll with nausea at any second.

  The plane ride had been uncomfortable and embarrassing enough.

  “Yeah, come on in.” Cole pulled the door to the side, allowing me to step inside. “So, I’m just going to guess you’re here to see Blake.”

  I twirled on the heels of my boots. “Good guess. Is he here?” I wasn’t sure if I should hope he would appear from the office.

  When I played this scenario out in my head, it didn’t include Cole.

  “Yes and No. How did you know he was on the island and not Orlando?”

  I shrugged, embarrassed to tell him I had stalked his cousin’s social media accounts. Everywhere Blake went there were pictures. I knew he had landed in Raleigh yesterday. That only meant one thing—he was here. He had a bye week. The team was off for almost two weeks.

  “A good guess?” I faked dumb.

  “Well, he’s not here. He’s up at the Dock House. It’s Tuesday. You remember Tuesday nights around here, don’t you?” He had taken a seat on a nearby stool.

  “Of course I do. I just didn’t know where I’d find him, so I thought I’d try here first.” The disappointment that Blake wasn’t here washed over me. Or was it relief?

  “Don’t look so sad, girl. He’ll be back.”

  I took a step toward the door. I hadn’t flown hours and then driven three more to sit around and wait for Blake to show up. I had to get this over with.

  “Thanks, I’m going to go see him.”

  “I guess some things don’t change.” Cole exhaled.

  “What does that mean?”

  “You always going after what you want—same ol’ Sierra.” Cole smiled.

  “Some things do change,” I replied sof
tly. I had to fight the instinct to rest my hand on my belly.

  Cole’s playful banter face transformed to shock.

  “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

  “To see Blake,” I answered.

  “Uh-huh. And you just showed up here on a Tuesday night?”

  “We need to talk. Ok? We left a lot of things unresolved at the end of the summer.”

  “That’s what you call it?”

  I felt the tingles of panic work through my body. “Why? Did he say something to you? Do you know something, Cole?”

  He backed up. “I’m not getting in the middle of this again. I played my part when you left the first time. I watched the destruction of my cousin implode in front of my eyes.”

  “Wow. I didn’t know you thought that about me.”

  He hung his head. “I don’t, Sierra. But you two need to get your shit straight. You belong together, not apart. And the sooner you both figure it out, the sooner you can stop hurting each other.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” I admitted.

  “Good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “Could you do something for me? A small favor?” I asked.

  “Depends.”

  “Could you give me time to get there? Please don’t tell him I’m here. I need to talk to him. It’s important.” I was suddenly more afraid than ever that if he knew I was on the way he might be the one to run this time.

  “I can do that.” He grinned.

  I looked at the clock on the wall. “I need to go if I’m going to catch him.”

  “Aw, you’ll be fine. He’ll be there ’til closin’ time.” Cole winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

  My smile changed quickly. “What are you saying? He planned to stay out all night?”

  I tried to keep the jealousy and suspicions out of my voice, but it was hard to forget the fan girl groupies who were always waiting for Blake after his shows. Any one of them would be more than happy to go home with him, if he gave them the chance. A sour pit formed in my stomach.

  “You’ve been gone almost two months, girl. I think you need to get down there and see for yourself.” Cole walked to the office and turned off the lights.