Team Player 2: A Sports Anthology

by Paige, Rochelle

“Where the hell are you going in such a hurry?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  If I had to guess, I’d say it involves a certain brunette in combat boots. I hover over the couch for a second before faceplanting into it, letting sleep take over.

  Chapter Six

  Halston

  Allie and I made plans for pedicures and champagne before I head out for Spring Break, and honestly, some one-on-one with my best friend is exactly what I need right now. Between school and Allie working at Blackbear, we’ve only seen each other in passing. I see her even less now that she’s moved in with her boss, Lo. Who also happens to be Jesse’s sister. Yeah. This oughta pan out well.

  Both of us are killin’ it in the boy department. Note the sarcasm.

  After walking out on Sully last night, I drove to my parents’ house instead of going back to my dorm. They’d already left for Napa, so I had the place to myself. I was free to take a long, hot bath, and eat all the ice cream they keep on hand for my grandfather. He’s obsessed with the stuff—says he can’t taste savory foods anymore, so all he eats are sweets. But the best part about last night? Sleeping in my own bed. My huge, California king, cloud of a bed. I never realized how shitty my bed at Kerrigan was until going back to my old one.

  But even my cushy bed and silk sheets weren’t enough. I kept replaying last night on a loop, over and over. Unable to fall asleep, I made the mistake of scrolling through my social media feeds, and saw Sully tagged in posts with Sierra, of all people. That stung. More than I want to admit.

  I know I did the right thing cutting it off, so why does it feel so wrong?

  I shove my depressing thoughts aside as I pull up to Jesse’s house. I throw my car into park before killing the engine and hopping out. I stuff my keys into my pocket, walking up the pathway to their door. When I knock, I hear a muffled groan that sounds like someone saying to come in.

  “Allie?” I ask, tentatively pushing the door open. My stomach drops when I see Sully on the couch, holding a blanket over himself.

  “Halston—” he starts, but I hold up a hand to stop him.

  “Not my business.”

  Before he can respond, Allie comes rushing down the stairs in baggy sweats, damp shirt, and messy ponytail. I scrunch my nose. “Tell me you’re not going like that.”

  She eyes me warily, and I know she sees through my façade, but she plays along.

  “I woke up late.” She shrugs.

  “Well…fix it.” I force out a hollow laugh.

  “Halston, can we talk?” Sullivan tries again.

  “Nothing to talk about. You had an itch and I wasn’t around to scratch it,” I say flippantly before turning away, heading for the stairs.

  “Nothing happened,” he promises. He stands, moving toward me, but then his blanket falls, revealing the fact he’s not wearing pants.

  I swallow hard as an unfamiliar feeling snakes its way through me, a mixture of nausea or pure disappointment.

  “Jesus, Sullivan,” Allie chides, covering her eyes. “I did not need to see that.”

  He scrambles to cover himself, falling back onto the couch and balling the blanket up on his lap.

  “Yeah, sure looks like nothing happened,” I say sarcastically. “Oh, by the way, the next time you’re going to lie, make sure the evidence isn’t plastered all over Sierra’s socials.”

  Sullivan sighs, running a hand through his hair. He looks defeated, and I almost feel bad for him. Almost. But not quite.

  Once we’re upstairs, Allie quickly shuts the door. “I found out in the middle of the night. I almost kicked his ass, but Jesse told me you knew. I should’ve known he was trying to cover his friend’s ass.”

  “He wasn’t lying.” I lift a shoulder. “We have an understanding.”

  “You’re shitting me. I thought you liked him.”

  “I do.”

  “Then why…”

  “Because we’re in college. And he’s Sullivan.” I sigh, moving toward the closet, rooting through Allie’s clothes to pick an outfit for her. “These boys… Their only mission in life is to collect as many conquests as possible.”

  “So, you hook up with him knowing he could be hooking up with other girls? Doesn’t it bother you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Do you think friends with benefits actually works?”

  “For some people, sure.” I settle on a white cropped T-shirt, peeling it off the hanger before tossing it onto her lap before squatting down to dig through her suitcase that’s still full of clothes. “The key is to have ground rules.” And actually follow them.

  “Such as?”

  “That depends on you and your expectations.” I hold up a pair of old, ripped jeans before throwing them to the hell no pile. “My personal rules are no hooking up with other people on the same day, no cuddling, no sleepovers, no unprotected sex, and most importantly, no lying. And Sullivan,” I stand, throwing a pair of high-waisted jean shorts at her, “is a liar.”

  “I’m not wearing these,” she argues, bunching the shorts into a ball.

  “Yes, you are. We’re getting pedicures, remember?”

  “Fine,” she relents, kicking off her sweats. “Hand me that bra.” She points at the suitcase. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Sullivan got very far with Sierra.”

  “How would you know?” I try, and fail, not to sound too invested in her answer.

  She sits on the edge of her bed, putting on her socks. “I overheard some stuff. She was trying to use him to make Jesse jealous.”

  “And then I sent their drunk asses home in an Uber,” Jess says, standing in the bathroom doorway, towel tied around his waist.

  Well, hello. I shoot Allie a look, but she’s too busy glaring at him.

  “Knock much?” she snaps.

  “Stare much?” he counters. She gives him the middle finger before gathering her stuff into a backpack. Jess turns to me, and I can tell he has his opinions about what happened last night. I wonder how much he’s told Allie.

  “Even drunker than shit with a chip on his shoulder, he still passed on the opportunity. I wonder why that is?”

  I shrug. “He didn’t want the herp?”

  “Funny,” Jesse deadpans.

  Allie walks out of the room, into the adjoined bathroom.

  “Be careful with her,” I say, changing the subject.

  “Be careful with him,” he counters.

  “Yes, because Sully is so fragile.”

  “You saying Allie is?”

  My mouth drops open. “That’s not what I—”

  “Do you know anything about Sully, or his family, or why he’s still here when he had a chance to play the sport he loves at his dream school?”

  I shake my head, embarrassed that we’ve spent so much time together, and I haven’t wanted to get personal.

  “Maybe you should ask him. Sully’s not the type to fuck you over. Even when presented with someone ready and willing.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, unsure of what to say. I’m saved when Allie walks out, snatching me by the wrist.

  “We’re leaving,” she snaps.

  “We’re going to talk about what you were doing up with Jesse in the middle of the night. And don’t think I didn’t notice you failed to inform me that you share a bathroom,” I whisper-shout as we make our way down the stairs.

  “Shut up,” she hisses, hurrying down the steps.

  “What am I going to do without you for an entire week?” Allie pouts, then lick the leftover salt off the rim of her margarita.

  Our fingers and toes are freshly painted, and stomachs full of tacos and tequila. I picked this place specifically because they never card, especially during tourist season.

  “I think you’ll have your hands full,” I tease. “I’ll be the one suffering. Wanna trade?”

  She pulls a face. Yeah, that’s what I thought. “What were you and Jesse whispering about, by the way?”

  “Nothing.” I plug the tip of my
lime green straw, then sucks the slush out of the bottom. I can tell she’s about to grill me, but her phone rings.

  “Hello?”

  “Allison?”

  “This is she.”

  “Who?” I mouth, and she shrugs.

  I tune out while she talks, checking my own phone, seeing texts from Sullivan coming through. I hit the lock button, tossing my phone back into my purse, catching the end of Allie’s conversation.

  “Definitely interested.” Allie opens her mouth in a silent scream. “Thank you so much!”

  “That was a club owner my dad knew. He’s letting me put on my own show.”

  “Holy shit, Allie! That’s cause for celebration. One more drink?”

  “When you get back,” she promises, checking her phone. “I have to get to work, and I think showing up drunk would be frowned upon.”

  “Fine, party pooper.”

  I want to tell her about what happened with Sullivan. I want to tell her about Sadie bringing Derek along, and everything that’s been going on the past few weeks with life in general, but she’s got enough on her plate, and this is the one piece of good news that’s come her way in far too long. My shit can wait. Plus, I think I’d rather sort through my own feelings first.

  “You’re just stalling because you don’t want to leave.”

  If she only knew how right she was. Once we’re done here, I’m heading straight for the vineyard.

  Chapter Seven

  Halston

  I’ve got to hand it to my mom for picking this place. If you’re going to be stuck on vacation with your overbearing parents, your backstabbing sister, and your cheating ex, a winery is hands-down, the best place to be. Mom says something critical about my hair? Take a sip of wine. Sister asks about your dating life during dinner? Another drink. Father asks when you’re going to pick a major because you’re still undeclared as a sophomore? Drink up. Ex-boyfriend proposes to your sister in some grand, romantic gesture in front of the entire family? Oh look, more wine.

  “You’ve gotta be shitting me,” my grandfather says as Derek drops to one knee. I almost choke on my wine, and I press my lips together to keep from laughing. Old age has completely obliterated his filter, not that he had much of one to begin with.

  “Frank!” my grandmother hisses.

  We’ve just had dinner and moved to the outdoor patio area that overlooks the estate. I’m sitting with a blanket on one of four couches that surrounds the rustic firepit, my grandparents seated on either side of me. My mother jumps up, angrily gesturing at someone behind me to hurry up. I peek over my shoulder, rolling my eyes when I see that it’s a photographer. Clearly, this was the plan all along.

  What twenty-two-year-old gets engaged at a freaking vineyard?

  “I was going to wait until I was done with med school to do this,” Derek starts, taking my sister’s hand in his. Oh, brother. “But I wanted to make this special for you, and I couldn’t think of a better time than now, surrounded by the people you love most.”

  I could. In fact, I could think of a thousand ways I’d rather be proposed to. Like behind a restaurant, next to the smelly dumpster, perhaps. Copious amounts of wine have me snorting out a laugh at my own inner thoughts, and Sadie’s head snaps to the side, giving me the evil eye.

  “Sorry.” I laugh, holding up my glass of red. “Please. Proceed.”

  Honestly, this should probably hurt. At the very least sting a little. But when I look at them, all happy and in love, I feel…nothing. No bitterness, no anger. Just…nothing. They say your brain can only focus on one pain at a time, and right now, the only pain I feel is when I think about how I ended things with Sully. Zach.

  I can’t even bring myself to pay attention to the rest of the proposal. Everyone claps and hugs and gushes and takes pictures of the happy couple. And through it all, I’m in a daze. When I’m finally in my room at the luxury, on-site hotel, feeling nice and buzzed and half-asleep, my phone rings. Zachary Binx flashes across the screen, and my heart flips in my chest. I consider letting it go to voicemail, but I pick up at the last second.

  “Hello?”

  “Where are you?” Sully’s gruff voice washes over me.

  “Currently? In a hotel room watching Gossip Girl reruns on Netflix.”

  “Fuck, I forgot you were with your family.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing at all. We’re both quiet for a beat, the silence stretching between us.

  “I fucked up, Hals.” I can tell by his voice that I’m not the only one who has been drinking.

  “Me, too,” I admit. We both fucked up by letting it get this far.

  “She kissed me, but I swear that’s all—”

  “Stop,” I say, not wanting to hear anymore.

  “I just wanted to feel something for someone other than you.”

  Jesus. Don’t hold back to spare my feelings or anything.

  “And did it work?”

  “Not even a little bit. And as for hitting that guy, I’m fucking sorry, okay? I was in my head all day, and then I saw you, at my house, smiling at him like you smile at me, and then he touched you and I lost it.”

  “Sully, stop. This isn’t about that guy. God, it’s not even about the fact that you hooked up with her.”

  “Then what is it about?”

  “It’s about the fact that I cared!” I confess, shocking both of us if his silence is anything to go by. “I have to go,” I say quickly, hanging up before he can respond.

  “Halston?” my sister asks. I look over my shoulder to see her standing in the doorway of my room. I finish zipping my bag, then pull it off the bed and extend the retractable handle. Everyone else is getting ready to head to a restaurant on the property, but I'm going back to Kerrigan early.

  “Yeah?”

  She glides over to my bed, looking perfect, as per usual, in her plum mini bandage dress. She perches on the very edge of the mattress. “Can we talk?”

  “Why not,” I say flatly.

  “Does Mom know you’re leaving?” she asks, eyeing my suitcase.

  “Nope,” is my clipped response. She’ll figure it out soon enough.

  An amused smirk tugs at Sadie’s lips. We used to love driving Mom crazy as kids. Well, she used to love standing back and watching while I drove my mom crazy. Sadie was the good egg. I was the wild card.

  “Look, I don’t usually care what you think—mostly because I don’t like you—but I figured…we’re sisters. And these circumstances aren’t exactly typical.”

  “Yeah. Marrying your sister’s sloppy seconds makes for awkward family dinners, huh? Go figure.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to say this one time, and one time only.” She takes a fortifying breath. “I’m sorry.”

  I pin her with a blank stare.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you. It was wrong and selfish, and I truly wish we would have done things differently, but Halston…I really love him. I’ve never loved anyone before him. I wasn’t trying to steal Derek just because I could, or to get back at you for whatever fight we got into that week. It wasn’t some game for me.” She stands, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress. “I just wanted you to know that.”

  Sadie tucks a loose curl behind her ear, turning to leave.

  “Sadie,” I say, just before she reaches the door. She looks over her shoulder at me expectantly. “Congrats.”

  And I mean it. If being with Douchebag Derek makes her happy, then so be it.

  Chapter Eight

  Sully

  Halston’s been giving me the cold shoulder for weeks. She won’t take my calls since that night I talked to her when she was with her family, and on the seldom occasion we happen to be in the same vicinity, thanks to Shep and Allie, she acts as if I’m the shit stuck to the bottom of her designer heels.

  But I see the way her eyes flare with lust—and maybe a side of irritation—when she sees me, and I don’t miss the way they seek me out when she thinks no one else is
looking. Halston still wants me. She just doesn’t want to want me. She’s freaked out by the way she feels about me, and I know it because I’m in the same fucking boat.

  I haven’t had a girlfriend since that one time in seventh grade when Katie Lane wrote me a note and tucked it onto my lunch tray. I didn’t read it, and it went into the trash with my discarded food, but when she cornered me on the playground afterwards and asked me if my answer was yes or no, I shrugged and said yes. Turns out, she asked if I wanted to be her boyfriend. Suffice it to say, I’m not boyfriend material. I don’t know the first thing about relationships. All I know is that I want Halston, she wants me, and nothing else should matter.

  There have been a couple moments when I could tell she was so close to giving in, and both times, I was cockblocked by Shep and Allie’s drama. Which is exactly how I ended up sneaking into Manzanita after hours. No distractions. No interference from other people. Just her and me. Hopefully naked.

  Luckily, one of the girls coming out recognized me and held the door open. Even luckier that the security desk was unmanned. Once I got to Halston’s door, I knocked quietly, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. When the door swung open, any hopes of Halston and I reuniting in the biblical sense died instantly.

  Halston looked up at me, big olive-green puppy dog eyes watering with unshed tears. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was visibly shivering in nothing but a tank top, flannel shorts, and a pair of fluffy pink slippers.

  “I think I might be sick,” she said, in the understatement of the century. I could tell by her demeanor that it wasn’t your average cold. Not to mention, she’d have been chewing my ass out for coming over if she wasn’t completely miserable.

  I touched the back of my hand to her forehead. “Jesus, you’re burning up.”

  “I don’t feel hot,” she frowned. “I’m freezing. And it hurts to talk.” She turned around and crawled into her bed, curling up on her side to face the wall.

  Making an executive decision, I walked over and scooped her up into my arms and headed back toward the hall, kicking her door shut behind me.