Bad Ballers: A Contemporary Sports Romance Box Set

by Bishop, S. J.

  Adult Courtney kept an unusually tidy house. Without turning lights on, it was difficult to get a real sense of each room. But I had the feeling that, if I’d walked into this house without knowing whose it was, I might have been able to guess. Even the rooms had energy: the furniture didn’t match, but was pulled together by soft bursts of color. There was an office where the tile and the desk were a muted brown, but all the prints on the wall were of vibrant Florida flowers like hibiscus and birds of paradise.

  I stopped in the kitchen to get another slice of cheesecake and took it with me into her living room. If you want to get to know someone, go to their living room. There was a big bookshelf half full of books and half full of mementos – picture frames, glass fish, seashells… each thing reminding more and more of the girl I’d left ten years ago. My gut ached. What was wrong with me?

  I grabbed up a family photo and shone my iphone light on it to see it better. I recognized the older couple as Courtney’s parents and the dark haired woman as Courtney’s sister Karen.Standing in between Courtney and her mother was a small girl of about five years old. The daughter. She was a cute kid: Dark haired like Karen, not like Courtney, with a small dimple in her chin. But there were no men in the picture. Nothing to hint at who the girl’s father might be.

  In fact, it didn’t look like Courtney lived with a man. This was definitely a woman’s place. Was the kid in the photo even hers?

  I scanned the bookshelves, spotting a few picture books. Yah. Must be. Although… there were chapter books, too: Roald Dahl, Louis Sachar. Would a five year old read chapter books? Maybe they were from Courtney’s childhood. They looked pretty warn. I scanned a few more pictures, frowning when I noted that there was one guy in particular who’d shown up in at least three of the photos. He had pale brown hair, wide shoulders – he might be a family member.

  I realized, after about the sixth photo, that Courtney had arranged them in ascending age. On the left were her daughter’s younger pictures, and on the right she was older. How old was the kid? I moved all the way down to the rightmost shelf and picked up a picture. My stomach plummeted.

  It was a school picture, and it must have been taken recently because I recognized the girl. She’d been sitting on the patio of The Mangroves, drawing that football field…

  I felt my knees give, and I sagged into the nearest chair, staring at the picture. The little girl must have been at least ten years old. But Courtney was only twenty nine which meant she’d had her daughter at 19. And that meant… My brain wouldn’t go there. It refused to go there.

  Instead, I scanned the girl’s face. Lea, she’d said her name was. She really didn’t look that much like Courtney. She had dark hair, dark eyes and a small dimple in her chin.

  Without realizing it, my fingers had gone to my own dimple. I felt like throwing something. I felt like running out of the house and never looking back. Courtney. How could you not tell me?

  11

  Courtney

  I woke up earlier than I thought I would. The sky was only just beginning to lighten. I stretched, hissing as the muscles of my inner thighs twinged. Right. I’d had quite a ride last night. The thought made me smile and I rolled over, half expecting Ryan to still be there. Next to me, though, the bed was empty, cool. He’d left, and apparently he’d left a while ago.

  A moment of unwelcome sadness rolled through me. I’d known what I was getting myself into, but last night, after the second time, he’d held me, and I’d closed my eyes and remembered what it felt like to love him. Shake it off.

  Last night had been fun. It had reminded me of the girl I used to be. Ryan might be gone from my life again, but that didn’t mean I had to lose that bit of my old self that I’d regained last night.

  I sat up, my stomach growling angrily at me. Food. Definitely food. I tugged on a pair of old boxer shorts that belonged to my college ex, Doug. My breakup with Doug had been a mutual, amicable thing. I still had a few things from our time together, including my favorite pair of drawstring flannel shorts. I pulled a tank-top out of my drawer too (in case Adriana or Brandon showed up to return Lea without calling), then I padded to the kitchen.

  I got a bowl of yogurt and some blueberries and set the coffee machine running. The best place to watch the sunrise was from the sitting room, which had a sliding glass door that lead into the backyard.

  As I strolled into my living room, I stopped. Sitting in the leather wing chair, hunched over one of my photo albums, was Ryan. My stomach dropped. My heart actually stuttered before slamming back again with alarm. I must have made a sound, for he looked up.

  Ryan wore nothing but his boxer briefs, his tattoos even more startling in the dim morning light than they’d been last night. As his eyes met mine, he looked bleak. I knew which photo album he had. It had baby pictures in it.

  “I met your daughter,” he said. His voice was rough.

  “Did you?” Keep cool, Courtney, keep cool.

  “Cute kid.” He was fingering the dimple in his chin, and I knew what he was thinking even before he asked, “How old is she?”

  “She just turned nine.”

  That surprised him. He wasn’t expecting it. Go ahead. Do the math. He took a moment to figure out what he wanted to say next. “She’s big for nine.”

  “Runs in the family,” I said, breezily. I forced myself to stroll over and plop myself onto the couch, to spoon yogurt into my mouth and to swallow it. “I was 90th percentile until I was fifteen. Then everyone else caught up. Do you remember?”

  “I remember you at fifteen, yes.” He sounded winded. Like someone had punched him, but the color was returning to his face.

  I took another spoonful of my yogurt. “I supposed you’ll want to be on your way soon. If you’d like some food, I’ve got yogurt and kid cereal.”

  Ryan was still staring at the baby photos. He looked up at me and frowned, clearly trying to regain his equilibrium after that near-miss. “I thought I might take you to get some breakfast. Figured we’d might go to Sprinkles on Ocean Drive…”

  I rolled my eyes and stood, waving my yogurt at him. “I ate.” Shit, but my heart was hurting.

  “Still…”

  “Listen,” I said. “You don’t have to go above and beyond for me. I wanted some fun. We had it. But you’ve got a life to get back to and so do I. So I think it’s best that we…”

  The phone in the kitchen rang, interrupting my eloquent send off. “I have to get that,” I said. “You can show yourself out, or if you want some cereal…”

  I trailed off as I strode into the kitchen to pick up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Court?” It was Karen. My sister. “Sorry to call so early, Court, but I got some bad news…”

  “Mom and Dad...” I gripped the edge of the kitchen counter.

  “No, the bank.”

  “Oh.” This wasn’t personal, it was business. About a month ago, Karen and I had started looking into expanding The Mangroves into a chain. We’d come up with a project proposal, done all of our ground research, and Karen is a property lawyer who did all the property research in the cities we were looking to expand in. We had a good lump sum to start, but needed a sizeable bank loan.

  “Apparently they think the venture is riskier than we do. They’re willing to put in a good deal of the money, and are even willing to give us loans for more than one restaurant, but they say we need more investors.”

  I inhaled through my nose. “We’ve talked about this Karen, I’m not interested in bringing in investors…”

  “You might have to reconsider that position,” my sister cut in. “Most restaurants have backers. You know this. If we want to open in Miami, we need ties to the Miami community, and we need more money if we want to be to be on South Beach…”

  Ryan walked into the kitchen dressed in last night’s suit pants and white shirt. His tie and jacket were folded over his arm. His hair was finger combed out of his face. He wasn’t smiling.

  “…let’s discuss it
this weekend,” my sister was saying. “I have a few ideas and some plan Bs and Cs…”

  “Okay,” I said. “You want to stay for a few days?”

  “I’ll play it by ear,” Karen was saying. “Give Lea a squeeze for me. I’ll see you soon. We’ll make it work.”

  “I know,” I said. “We’ll make it work.”

  12

  Ryan

  I’ve bounced back from being tackled by three hundred pound linemen quicker than I regained equilibrium after finding out Courtney’s daughter wasn’t mine. If she was nine, she couldn’t be mine.

  In the hours leading up to Courtney’s arrival in her living room, I’d scoured those photo albums. They depicted an early life away from Serenity. It looked as if Courtney hadn’t gone to FSU after all, but had gone to Texas. The little girl had been born there.

  I’d done my best to calm down while I got dressed. Courtney was clearly dismissing me and, to be honest, I was happy to get out of there. I was still feeling, odd. Not at all like myself.

  As I walked into the kitchen, though, I couldn’t help but overhear her conversation.

  “… talked about this, Karen. I’m not interested in bringing in investors.”

  I walked in to the kitchen, watching her hold the phone between her ear and her shoulder and finish her yogurt with her hands. There was something so…peaceful about the whole scene. Courtney: barefoot and braless in her small, functional kitchen. There were a few dark smudges beneath her eyes where her mascara had rubbed off.

  Most girls begged me to stay for breakfast. Strolled around my place, or their places in their underwear. Not Courtney.

  “I know,” she said into the phone, “We’ll make it work.” She hung up and then glanced up at me.

  “Investors?” I asked.

  Courtney’s smile was small, forced. “It’s business stuff.”

  “But why do you need investors for the Mangroves? Are you expanding?”

  “Sort of,” said Courtney. “My sister and I are working together to turn it into a chain. I think we could open on of these in Miami, Cape Coral, Daytona...” Her eyes brightened. “Serenity isn’t a real tourist destination, but do you know that most of our best clients are the snowbirds? They love the ‘Old Florida’ vibe. Imagine what we could do in tourist cities?”

  Shit. That was actually a great idea. There are tons of Restaurants in Serenity Beach, but most people made The Mangroves a regular stop. The indoors had the dark furniture, paddle fans, fishing and gator vibe, and amongst the usual bar-type food, served traditional south Florida fare. Putting one in tourist destinations was a great idea.

  “So, you know that I’ve been looking for investment opportunities…” Courtney’s face shut down immediately.

  “Not interested. Thanks,” she said. “In fact. I have to pick up Lea and go open the restaurant. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m sure you’ve got to get back to Boston.” She walked out of kitchen and towards the door and I could do nothing but follow her.

  Opening the door, she reached up and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “That was fun, Ryan. It was nice seeing you again. Good luck with your season!”

  She all but crowded me out of the house and the next thing I knew, I was staring at her front door as it latched close.

  Well fuck!

  I took a deep breath. Courtney was right about one thing: I did have a plane to catch – but I wasn’t so sure I was going back to Boston.

  Heading back to the rental, I pulled up a phone number and hit send.

  “This is Henry” came a deep voice on the end of the phone.

  “Law, it’s Mac,” I said.

  “Hey Mac, what’s good?”

  “Coming into Miami this afternoon. Put a brother up?”

  “Short notice. How long you staying for?”

  “Just a day or two.”

  “Then no problem.”

  “I’m going to need to pick your brain. You got a few hours to spare me.”

  “I can clear my schedule.”

  “Great. See you in a few.”

  13

  Courtney

  Dark brown eyes, sculpted lips curved in a smug smile, hand sliding over the curve of my hip. I look up, towards his heart, where my name used to be. There was a compass-rose there now, and a map of the Indian River, dotted with islands and stretched across an impressive pectoral muscle…

  “Come on, babe! Lea’s up!” Adriana shook my arm, snapping me out of my poorly timed reverie. I blinked. Goddamn it! I knew that sleeping with Ryan was going to be a terrible idea. Time heals a lot of wounds, but apparently ten years had not been enough to distance me from Ryan Mcloughlin. One night with him (one hot, steamy night…) and I was falling right back into that old obsession.

  I let Adriana lead me to the edge of the water and watched my little girl step up onto the swimming blocks. The water was barely settled from the last race and I watched Lea stare at it, nervously. “I swear,” I murmured, “She’s bold as you please everywhere else in life, but races make her almost too nervous to function.”

  “She looks a bit more nervous than usual,” Adriana admitted, watching from a distance as Lea gnawed her lip and stared at her other competitors.

  “It’s the fifty yard butterfly” I said. “She’s actually pretty good at this event, but I think it’s the hardest and so it’s the scariest.”

  When the buzzer went off, Lea hesitated briefly before launching into the water.

  Lea was a natural athlete and swam hard, but she hung onto the wall too long on her turn and ended up coming in second.

  “She would have gotten first if she’d made the turns quicker,” muttered Addie.

  “She gets too much in her head. Gets in her own way a lot,” I said. But I’d let the coach tell her that. He was talking to her now. Based on the motions he was making, he was going over the start and the turn. Lea was nodding.

  “Like her mother?” Murmured Addie as she strolled back to where we’d left our chairs.

  “When do I ever get in my own way?” I said. “If you’re talking about Ryan, I don’t want to hear it. It was your dumb idea to sleep with him.”

  Adriana shrugged. I couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses.

  “Momma!” Lea called, running over. With her long legs, her goggles still on, and a maroon cap covering her dark hair, she looked like a little alien.

  “Hi baby,” I said, opening my arms and giving her a squeeze, getting water all down the front of my t-shirt. “Good race!”

  “I came in second.”

  “I saw the whole thing,” I said, biting my tongue.

  “Coach said I need to be quicker on the turns.”

  “I just think you need to not be so nervous.”

  Lea nodded. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

  Fishing it out, I blinked, “Hang on a second baby. It’s Doug.” I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “HI DOUG!” Lea hollered before the man on the other end of the phone could answer.

  “Is that the water bug?” Doug’s warm, friendly voice filled my ear. “Put me on speaker!”

  I hit speaker. “Hi water bug!” Doug called.

  “HI DOUG!”

  “What are you and that beautiful mother of yours doing the next few days?”

  “School and work and school and work,” Lea said. “And swim! I came in second!”

  “Second? What happened to first?”

  “She beat me.”

  “Well I guess that is what generally happens,” said Doug, wryly. Doug and I dated during my last two years of college and first year of business school. He was around a lot during Lea’s early years, and was really great with her. Ultimately, we didn’t work out. We were both young, he wasn’t interested in settling down and starting a family, and while I was sad about the breakup, I wasn’t devastated as I’d been with Ryan. I got over it quickly, and Doug and I were still friends. He sent Lea presents on her birthday and, though he was still based out of Houston, whenever h
e was in Orlando on business, he’d come up and visit with us for a day or two. I didn’t have any brothers, and hadn’t had a long-term boyfriend since, so Doug’s presence in Lea’s life was something I’d encouraged.

  “Hey, Court, can I take you and Bug out, maybe Wednesday night?”

  “We’re around,” I said. Doug was exactly what I needed to take my mind off of Ryan. Ryan was a playboy and I would probably never hear from him again. Doug was a responsible adult, and a staple in mine and my daughter’s life. “I’m excited to see you,” I said.

  “Me too,” said Doug, and he sounded excited. “I’ve got some news.”

  “What is it?”

  “Tell you Wednesday,” he said. “Go enjoy the meet. I’ll call you maybe Tuesday with the particulars.”

  “All right,” I said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Yay! I like Doug!” crowed Lea. “Hi Addie.” She gave Adriana a wet hug and then ran off to join her team.

  Addie pursed her lips. “What a sweetie,” she said, after Lea. Then to me. “So. Doug again?”

  “You like Doug,” I reminded her. Why was she all of a sudden so ‘Team Ryan’? She didn’t even know him.

  “I do like Doug. But I always thought it was shitty that he broke up with you because he was ‘too young to start a family’ but then stayed in such close touch. He gets all the benefits of your company without any of the commitment.”

  I shrugged. “He doesn’t get ‘all the benefits of my company’” I said. “We’re friends, the same way you and I are friends.”

  “Maybe,” muttered Addie. “Have you heard from Ryan at all?”

  “No. And I don’t expect to.”

  “Courtney…”

  “Drop it with Ryan,” I warned. “Seriously Addie. I had fun. And now he’s gone.”