Play Maker(19)

“Aren’t you always hung over?” I asked Rick, only half joking. His drinking had definitely grabbed the attention of not just me, but several of our teammates, some of whom were exchanging knowing glances with me as we entered the locker room. Even the management seemed to take notice.

“Come on, mate,” he swung his sweaty arm around my shoulder. “What’s the point of being an international celebrity if you can’t use it to get free drinks and loose women?”

“Just make sure you save some for the rest of us,” someone called from across the room.

“Ha!” Rick pointed at the heckler, #76, Dante, a recent addition to the team. “Now that’s the spirit I’m looking for,” he said, leaving me at my locker and heading towards his new best friend. “Let me tell you about the place I found last night—”

The locker room buzz faded around me as I got dressed, focused on the meetings I had that afternoon. Meetings no one knew I was taking. It was true that the Los Angeles Galaxy had been courting me pretty hard, but what they didn’t know, what no one except Ethan knew, was that I was pretty sure this exhibition was going to be my last professional game.

I was ready to retire. Which was crazy, considering I was at the peak of my career, and theoretically could leverage a threat of retirement into a much bigger salary and potentially more endorsements, but I was getting tired of it all.

Glancing back over at Rick, who was now entertaining a crowd of younger players with his sexual exploits, I remembered when I had been like them. Young and green and completely thrilled with all the attention my newfound fame afforded me. It was intoxicating. And Rick had been more than happy to take me under his wing. And he had been a good mentor. He had been at the top of his game then, and I had been grateful for his generosity of knowledge. Knowledge not just about the game, and how to navigate contracts and coaches and expectations, but also how to take full advantage of the fame I had been catapulted into.

But lately, I had begun to grow bored of it all. Not just bored, kind of embarrassed too. Looking at Rick, a man who was nearly ten years older than I was, someone whose best athletic days were now far behind him, take advantage of his position to cheat on his wife and then divorce her and drink to excess, well, let’s just say, I wasn’t really looking at him as a role model any more. And definitely not a mentor. A part of me really wished I could still confide in him the way I used to, get his opinion about all the decisions I needed to make about my career and my future, but I no longer thought that he would be advising me to make decisions that would benefit me. My very public womanizing had been hiding his private behavior for a while now. He needed me around. If I left the team, if I left football, well, he would either have to find a way to be more discreet, or he’d have to stop f*cking around. I had a hard time imagining him capable of doing either.

I left the locker room and the detailed account of Rick’s latest sexcapade behind and headed outside, looking for Ethan. As always, my best friend was waiting patiently, his attention directed at his extra, most necessary, appendage: his phone.

Ethan and I had been friends since we were kids. His mom was American, his dad British, and he had dual citizenship, taking tons of vacations back to the states, which made me insanely jealous. We had met playing soccer, though it didn’t take long for Ethan to realize he was much better off the field than on. He always excelled at that kind of stuff. Finances, schedules, keeping things running. We complimented each other pretty well and when I went pro, it was the easy choice to make him my manager. There was no one I trusted more with my career.

“We’ve got three meetings lined up for tomorrow,” he told me as we headed back to the hotel. “Three different charities that would be interested in having you as a spokesperson.”

“And you’ve vetted them?” I wanted to know. “They seem legit?”

“They’re totally legit,” he confirmed. “And since you didn’t really give me too many guidelines for what kind of charity you wanted to work with, I’m giving you a few options.”

“Great.” I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. I usually wasn’t this exhausted after a practice, but I had pushed myself extra hard trying not to think about Nicole. And now that I had stopped moving, that my mind had a chance to settle, memories of our night together came back in full force.

And I still couldn’t believe that she had left. I kept trying to tell myself that she had done me a favor, that I would have been escorting her out by the morning anyways. That tactic wasn’t working. And I still wanted her. That had never happened before. One night stands had always been easy for me. Easy to obtain, easy to forget. And most of my partners never had a problem with that. So why was I still thinking about Nicole?

My ego was bruised, I decided. That was it. The reason I couldn’t stop thinking about her had nothing to do with her. I was just being a right cock about the whole thing. And the best thing for me to do was to find someone else tonight.

But for some reason that didn’t sound appealing at all. Instead, I kept thinking about going back to the bar. Which was a terrible idea. Just awful.

“You know,” Ethan began, breaking the silence. “StubHub isn’t a bad field.”

I opened one eye. “Galaxy upped their offer?”

He nodded. “It’s kind of obscene now.”

It had been pretty ridiculous before, I could only imagine what they were dangling in front of Ethan. “Do you think I should take it?”