Bad Ballers: A Contemporary Sports Romance Box Set

by Bishop, S. J.

  Adriana pressed her lips together, making it clear that she wanted to argue but wasn’t going to. Good. I sat down, picking up my magazine. It might take a few days to forget the hot sex, to stop checking my phone every few minutes, to stop thinking about all the things I might have said but didn’t, but I would. Ryan Mcloughlin was not a part of my life.

  14

  Ryan

  “So what’s the deal, man? You still think it’s your kid?” Law Henry sat across from me in the study of his Miami penthouse. Law and I played together in college and he signed with the Dolphins in the second round of the draft that year (I went fourth round). Dude’s about six foot two, ripped with muscle, and serious as an axe. He never smiles, never jokes, and I’ve only ever seen him drunk once, the night after the draft.

  “She says it’s not, but look.” I pulled my phone out of my pockets and thumbed through the photos I’d taken at Courtney’s house. “I mean, it’s hard to take a picture of a picture, but look at that chin.”

  Law took my phone, staring at it, lips pursed. “I mean. She could be nine. She could be twelve. I can’t guess a kid’s age.”

  “Look at her chin, bro.”

  “Yah, okay. That’s your chin, and she has your coloring. But no offence Mac, all you white guys look alike.” He didn’t smile, but I knew he was joking, trying to lighten the mood. Nobody was certain what Law’s ethnicity was. He never knew his father. His mother was half Italian and half Cuban. Law had warm brown skin, startling turquoise eyes, and a face that looked like it came straight off of an Egyptian death mask.

  “So,” said Law, when I let the silence drag. “Let’s talk business. Number one: Why do you want to open a restaurant in Miami? Number two: What did you think about the scene?”

  “One: Can’t be a football player forever. I want to invest my money in a business venture. Restaurants are tricky, but if they’re run correctly, you can make a boatload on returns. Two: You know some sketchy-ass people.”

  Law would never admit to it, but with a series of Italian and Cuban uncles, and all the ‘connections’ he seemed to have around town with men who wore gold chains – I’d say he was friendly with (if not outright involved in) the Mafia. We’d met with restauranteurs, property owners, wholesale distributers. Law had been as useful as I’d anticipated, and everyone he introduced me to – while suspect – had seemed friendly enough.

  “But real talk,” I said, “I think Miami is ripe for a place like The Mangroves. What do you think about North Beach?”

  “From all you’ve told me about her restaurant, sounds like a ‘family’ kind of place, and South Beach doesn’t have too many of those. If you can get the capital to open in South Beach, that’s where the tourists stay. That’s where she’ll make the most money.”

  “Capital might be an issue,” I said. “I been working on some of my teammates – they’re not too keen to go into business with me…”

  “Wonder why that is,” said Law dryly. I shot him a look, and his lips twitched. Almost a smile.

  “Listen, Mac,” said Law. “I get the whole asshole thing. I had you figured out ages ago, man. Be a dick; see if anyone can see through it. If they can, they’re worth your time. If not? Don’t bother. Right?”

  What was he, a fucking psychologist? I rolled my eyes.

  “Here’s what I recommend. Get your lady to draw up the proposals. Get your boys down to Serenity, and I’ll come too. If the offer is enticing enough, I might be interested.”

  Fuck. That would be huge. Law’s connections in Miami were priceless.

  “I have a guy you might want to meet tomorrow,” Law continued, “He’s not shady. He’s a developer, and he’s built all up and down Biscayne Bay.”

  “All right, yah. Hook me up.”

  “When do you fly back to Boston?”

  “We’ve got the week off, so I’m staying in Serenity until we have to go back for pre-season.”

  Law nodded and was silent a moment, watching me intently so that I knew he had something else to say. When he spoke, he spoke slowly. “Do you really think that kid is yours, or do you just want her to be yours?”

  I blinked. “Bro. Are you kidding? Who wants their lives complicated by a secret love-child?”

  Law shook his head. “You. The Mama says she isn’t your kid, but you keep pushing it. If I had to guess, I’d say you want the kid to be yours. And you want the mother too.”

  “Everyone’s a fucking psychiatrist,” I muttered darkly, rising. I needed to get out of there before I gave into the urge to hit something. As I strode out of Law’s penthouse and onto the streets of Miami’s wealthy Bay Shore district, I couldn’t help but turn over what he said. Did I want Courtney? Badly. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Did I want Lea?

  My gut churned over at the thought. I needed to get back to Serenity and talk to Courtney. I needed to figure this out.

  15

  Courtney

  Doug strolled into The Mangroves punctually at 12:00.

  The lunch crowd was light, I was chatting with Brandon as he tended bar, so I saw Doug the moment he stepped foot on the premise. Doug was tall, though not as tall as Ryan. He competed in triathlons and worked for Ernst and Young, so he was lean, fit, and dressed like a businessman in navy blue slacks, a white shirt, and expensive brown leather shoes and matching belt.

  “This guy again,” murmured Brandon as Doug smiled and waved. I ignored Brandon and went to greet my ex. I don’t know why Brandon and Adriana don’t like Doug. Most people (my parents included) really like Doug. He’s honest, friendly, warm, and he can be incredibly generous. He’d called Tuesday and told me he was getting into Serenity around noon. Since Lea was in school until two, I suggested we have lunch, catch up, and then we’d go pick her up together.

  “Hey Beautiful!” Doug hailed. From Dallas originally, Doug had a light Texas accent. We embraced warmly, Doug kissing my cheek and allowing me to draw him towards a table near the kitchens, where I could still keep my eye on things.

  “It’s great to see you,” I said, as we sat. “But I’ve been on the edge of my seat since Sunday. What’s your news?”

  “The news? The company is sending me to Orlando for six months to contract long-term with a few of our clients.”

  That was his big news? I blinked. I had been certain he was going to tell me that he was engaged to that girl he’d been dating (Krissy? Christine?).

  I knew I had to say something so I said, “Hey that’s great!” And it was. I loved seeing Doug, and Doug being in Orlando meant that Lea and I just might get to see him a bit more often.

  But apparently, I wasn’t enthusiastic enough. Doug frowned at me, and then looked sheepish. “I thought you’d be excited.”

  Why? “Hey, it means we’ll get to see you more,” I said. “But – ah – what about your girlfriend…” Shit, what was her name? “Kristen?”

  “Kiersten,” he corrected. “We broke up two months ago. So I doubt she’ll care all that much if I’m not hanging around Houston.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not,” said Doug, and he smiled at me – that warm, considering smile he used to give me when we were dating. My heart leapt slightly. Was he serious? Was he hinting that he wanted to get back together?

  I changed the subject and told Doug all about the business and the struggles to get a bank loan. Doug had some business working with banks and so he began giving me some suggestions for how to go about getting them on my side.

  As he talked, I tried to calm myself down. Maybe I was reading him wrong. Though Doug and I had dated for three years, I’d never felt about Doug the way I felt about Ryan. Ryan had been a fire-works kind of love. Doug had been a slow burning friendship. I’d been attracted to him. We’d had great sex. He was good with Lea. But when he’d broken up with me, I hadn’t mourned overmuch, especially when we’d continued to be friends.

  I’d slept with him once or twice over the years, but it had never much impacted our ability t
o maintain our friendship. He’d been dating that other woman for two years now. Honestly, as he’d just turned thirty, I’d expected him to propose to her.

  “…what do you think of that idea?” Doug smiled at me, expectantly. What had he just asked?

  “Sorry,” I said. “I was thinking about how I was going to approach my sister with the idea of multiple bank loans. What did you say?”

  “I said: your Panthers are playing at home tonight. I saw the lights on the marquise as I crossed the bridge. Want to grab dinner, go to the game, and then get ice cream. Lea loves watching football doesn’t she?”

  “She does.” That was my fault. It was on a lot when she was little. Whenever Ryan had a game – whether he was playing for The Spartans or the Patriots, we’d been watching. “That sounds like a great idea!” And it did. Only I wasn’t as enthusiastic as I’d been when Doug and I had last spoken. Knowing Doug had a girlfriend made my friendship with him easy. Now that Doug was single, staying in Orlando, and looking at me with such expectation, I was nervous. Because getting involved with Doug wouldn’t be a casual thing. And I wasn’t sure how badly I wanted to get serious with Doug again.

  16

  Ryan

  In the end, I didn’t get back to Serenity until Wednesday morning. Coach called a last minute practice session to get a few new pick-ups up to speed on some of the plays before pre-season started. I had to take the red eye into Boston and stay for a few days.

  As I drove back into Serenity that morning, my phone buzzed. Elise Lashinsky, had been trying to text me on and off since we reconnected at the funeral. Apparently she was the head coach of the Serenity High School Cheerleaders. “Are you still in town?” she asked, sweetly. ‘The new head coach wants you to be the guest of honor at the home opener against Vero Beach tonight!”

  I wanted to say no, I wanted to go over to The Mangroves and talk to Courtney, see her kid again in person. But when I mentioned it to Gabe and Ellie, they expressed interest in attending the game. It was a family friendly event and it would be nice to bring Katie out of the house.

  So I agreed. Maybe I could even get Courtney to go to the game with me.

  I called, hoping she’d pick up, and when she didn’t I left a message. “Hi Court. It’s Ryan. I’m back in town and hoping you have time to get together again. I’d like to take you out to dinner – no strings. We didn’t get to do a lot of catching up last time we, ah, met.”

  I hung up, cursing my own awkwardness. What the hell happened to being smooth? As early as two weeks ago, I was pretty damn good at this.

  “Woohoo!” said Gabe, eyes scanning the massive crowd before us. “I think the whole town is here tonight.” My brother was alight with excitement. Poor bastard. He needed to get out more.

  “If you think this is fun, you and Ellie should come see a Pats game.”

  Gabe blinked at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’ve been playing seven years with the Patriots. That’s the first time you’ve ever invited me to a game.”

  Shit. Really? I cleared my throat. “That’s…Well… We play the Dolphins fourth week in October. I can. Ah. I can get you tickets to the game, if you can get someone to watch Katie. Or you can bring her… I mean…”

  Gabe put his hand on my arm. “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure we’d both love to go.” But he was quiet next to me. Shit. Was I really that terrible of a brother? Apparently.

  Shaken, I followed Gabe as he went in search of the food vendor. There were a few clubs doing bake sales, and two food trucks with long lines.

  “Hey,” said Gabe, staring past my shoulder. “Isn’t that Courtney?”

  I turned, automatically scanning the crowd for Courtney’s lithe figure and bright blond hair. There she was. She was laughing, her face beautiful and alight with something that had set her off. And there was a guy with her.

  I recognized him. He’d been in some of the photos at Courtney’s house. The guy with the pale brown hair. He was about as tall as my brother, lean and attractive. Jealousy swept through me so fiercely I nearly vibrated with it.

  “Whoa, if looks could kill,” murmured Gabe. “If I didn’t know any better, brother, I’d say you were still hung up on Courtney Hart.”

  “Gabe,” I warned.

  “Those two look friendly, don’t they? Who do you think he is?” Gabe pressed, oblivious.

  “Gabe.”

  “Who’s the kid?”

  “Her daughter.”

  “Your daughter?”

  Gabe’s choked response shook me out of my rage. I took my eyes off of Courtney and stared at him. “I said, ‘her daughter.’”

  “So you did,” said Gabe, but he was frowning, staring at Lea who bouncing as she waited in the baked good line. “Ryan, you ever seen a picture of Mom when she was a little girl?”

  “Gabe, I don’t think I could handle what you’re about to tell me,” I said, but Gabe had his phone out and was pulling up Facebook.

  “How old is Courtney’s daughter. Shit,” Gabe mumbled, finger scrolling through photos. “Look.”

  “Where the fuck did you find that?” I asked, staring at a greyscale photo of a young girl. She had big, brown eyes, an oval face and dimpled chin. It looked a helluva lot like Courtney’s daughter.

  “Mom’s Facebook page,” said Gabe. “Shit. Ryan.”

  “Stop, Gabe. For all we know she could be that guy’s daughter,” I said, pointing at the man now wrapping an arm around Courtney’s shoulder. I felt slightly ill.

  “Do you know how old Courtney’s daughter is?”

  “She said nine.”

  “You don’t believe her.”

  “If she’s lying…” My stomach churned. I felt angry and jealous and hurt.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Gabe called as I stomped off. I was beyond answering him.

  17

  Courtney

  “What are you going to get, Momma?” Asked Lea, but I couldn’t answer: Ryan was striding across the blacktop, eyes trained on me.

  Part of me went into anxiety overdrive: tight chest, light sweat, short breaths. I’d seen Ryan’s message, but I’d been out with Doug and hadn’t been able to check it. Why was he still in Serenity?

  Anxious as I was, I was also relieved. At least Ryan would provide a good distraction. Doug had become friendlier, touchier as the night had worn on. I was either going to have to start relaxing into his embraces or have a serious talk with him. And I wasn’t sure which one I wanted to do yet.

  “Hey,” I called, as Ryan neared. Doug looked over to where I was waving and blinked. “Court, who’s that?”

  Doug knew about Ryan in the abstract, though I hadn’t spoken much about my high school ex. I didn’t have time to answer Doug because Ryan was upon us, his smile a bit forced.

  “Hey Courtney.” Instead of stopping, Ryan leaned forward, crowding me where I stood by Doug, and kissed my cheek. That close, he was warm and big, and he smelled fantastic.

  Ryan stepped back. “Did you get my message?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to check it,” I said. “Doug, this is Ryan Mcloughlin, a friend of mine from high school.” I knew the intro would piss Ryan off and I just couldn’t help myself.

  “Ryan, this is Doug…” I paused, trying to figure out how to sum up Doug in my life. “We’ve known each other since college. Doug lives in Houston, but he visits us here a lot. Right Lea?”

  Lea was staring up at Ryan with sharp interest. She took a hold of Doug’s hand in a nervous gesture and nodded, but looked unsure.

  “You and Courtney used to date in high school, right?” said Doug, voice sharp. Oh shit. I took a look at Doug and saw that my usually composed friend, my calm and pleasant ex-lover, looked close to erupting. Maybe I’d told him more about Ryan than I remembered.

  Ryan looked surprised by Doug’s animosity, then annoyed. “Yah,” he said, coolly. “We did.” Then he flicked his gaze towards me, dismissing Doug. “I was hoping I could talk to y
ou a sec.” His eyes landed on Lea, who was watching the whole thing with fascination.

  “We’re a bit busy,” said Doug, tersely. “And whatever you have to say can’t be that important because you’ve had – what? Eleven years to say it? I’m sure it can wait until after the game.”

  I was momentarily mute and stared at Doug with a surprise that was mingled with dread. Shit. Shit. Where had this come from?

  Anger flashed across Ryan’s handsome face. His lips curled into a dismissive sneer. “Listen…Doug?” He infused the syllable with a wealth of disdain, “I’m not really sure what role you play in Courtney’s life – but I’m going to guess it’s not that big since just the other night…”

  “Can we not do this here,” I cut in, heat surging up into my cheeks. I looked at Doug, pleading with him. “Doug, can you get Lea the brownie? Lea, save me a bite?”

  Lea’s eyes were only for Ryan but she nodded, indicating she’d heard me.

  “I’ll be right back.” I squeezed Doug’s hand hoping that would placate him, but Doug wasn’t taking his eyes off Ryan. I walked over towards the parking lot, hoping Ryan would follow. He did, but only after one more second of staring down Doug.

  Away from an audience, I whirled on Ryan. “What the fuck was that about?”

  Ryan’s face was set and unreadable, but he kept glancing back at Doug.

  “Ryan!?”

  He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. “Who is he?”

  “He’s a friend,” I said. “We were together in college. When he’s in town, he takes Lea and I out to dinner.” I hoped Ryan would draw the necessary conclusions about Doug and Lea.

  He seemed to, because he frowned and changed the subject. “Did you talk to your sister yet about plans for The Mangroves?”