He flips me the bird. “Why do I even hang around with you when I’m in LA? You walk ass-backward into great sex and then, without any pain or suffering, land a date with a woman you like.”
“Aww, tell me how hard your life is. Is it still rough after winning the Super Bowl?”
He hums, a long, satisfied sound, then he raises his finger and scratches his jaw, showing off one of his fat rings. “Come to think of it, that was a sweet end to this season. An encore,” he says.
Some guys have all the football luck.
“There. So I will enjoy my dating luck, while I try to figure out what the fuck is going on with my football team. The general manager has been cutting guys left and right. Practice yesterday was miserable. No one knows what kind of shake-ups there could be before the season kickoff. And it starts soon.”
Carter knows this. He splits time between Los Angeles, his hometown and where his family still lives, and San Francisco, where he plays for the Renegades. He’s in town since his team doesn’t havepractice today, but he’ll be heading back later this week as we get ready for the regular season to start.
“I feel for you,” my buddy says, then claps my shoulder. “I mean it. Even with my two rings, I still feel for you.”
“Jackass,” I mutter, then we trash talk the rest of the way to the Santa Monica Pier. When we get there, we head toward Ocean Avenue, where I spot a familiar figure at a café at the edge of the beach. He sits facing our direction, arms crossed loosely, almost as if he’s been expecting us.
I slow my pace, pointing. “Dude, is that our agent?” What the hell is Maddox doing here?
“Whoa. He knows everything,” Carter whispers in admiration. “Maddox knew exactly where we’d be on a Monday morning. He’s a fucking genius.”
I’ll say. The man is ridiculously good at his job and never stops working. Hence, his tracking us down at seven-thirty. The guy is the picture of cool and calm. Impeccably dressed in slacks and a tailored shirt, he sips a cup of espresso as he waits and smiles in satisfaction as I reach him and stop a few paces away.
“I thought I might find you here when you didn’t answer your phone,” he tells me.
I grab for my cell in my pocket, spotting the missed call. Weird. I didn’t think I turned off the sound. “Guess I put it on silent,” I say.
Carter smacks my arm. “You missed a call from me last night too.”
I shoot him a sneaky look. “I wouldn’t say Imissedit.” Then I turn to Maddox again. “Good to see you.”
Maddox gives an easy shrug. “Fortunately, I knew how to find you.”
“I’m a creature of habit,” I say with a smile, eager to find out why he’s parachuted into my morning workout.
Carter thumps our agent on the back. “So, Super Agent, are you here to see him or are you stopping in to see your favorite client while he’s in town?”
“I love all my children equally,” Maddox teases.
“You don’t have to say that just to make Carter feel better,” I say, then I cut to the chase. “What’s the story?” I point my thumb at my buddy. “Unless it’s top secret, Carter can stay. I’ll probably tell him anyway.”
Carter cups the side of his mouth. “News flash—Drew got laid last night.”
“Hey now. It was more than sex. I have a date with her.” I
don’t want to sound like a playboy.
Maddox just grins, shaking his head like we’re a couple of clowns. Which, admittedly, we are. “Glad you met someone you like, Drew.” His smile disappears, and he’s suddenly serious. “I have big news, Drew. Now, let’s talk.”
6
ONE HORCHATA LATTE FOR ME
Brooke
I yank open the kitchen cupboard in Cara’s apartment on Thursday morning and stare at the nearly bare shelves.
“How do younothave coffee?” I whine.
“There’s this thing called coffee shops,” she calls breezily from the other room. Her shoes clack against the tiles as she marches into the kitchen, her blonde hair swishing in a high ponytail. “You go in, order your drink, and voila. The barista serves it.”