Play Maker(20)

He paused. “You’ve been saying for almost a year that you want to retire.”

“Yeah,” I opened my other eye. “But is it the right thing to do?”

Ethan shrugged. “I’m just your manager, mate. Call a therapist for deep questions like that.”

I laughed. Even though I wasn’t surprised he wasn’t trying to pressure me into taking a new contract, I was still grateful. It would have been a lot of money for him too, but it was nice to confirm that our friendship came first.

He was also the first person to smack some sense into me when I needed it. And right now, with my mind continuing to return to Nicole – the eyes, the lips, the curves – I was pretty sure I was overdue for a right solid smack.

“Hey.” I turned my head to look at him. “Got plans tonight?”

“Dinner with one of your sponsors later,” he told me. “Why?”

“Want to grab a drink in a few hours before you have to go?” This was probably a terrible idea, but since when had that ever stopped me? “The service at the hotel bar is fantastic.”





11





Nicole





I was sweating like a pig. I know that plenty of people found hiking relaxing, but I didn’t see what was relaxing about being hot and thirsty. But that was probably just me. Of course, Maya and Mikey looked like they were having a blast.

It was a rare morning that Maya and I were both off, so when she offered to take Mikey and I hiking, I couldn’t say no. Mikey absolutely adored Maya and for a kid that loved TV as much as he did, he was pretty excited to get off of the couch and onto the trail.

Both of them were up ahead, Mikey gripping Maya’s hand and chatting animatedly as we headed up Runyon Canyon, one of the best places to hike in Los Angeles. It was barely 10am, but it was already a scorcher. Luckily we had brought plenty of water, most of which I was currently sweating out of every pore on my body.

I huffed and puffed as I hurried to catch up to Mikey and Maya, who had now stopped at the top of one of the trails. It was dusty and dry up here, but even I couldn’t deny it was a beautiful view of a beautiful city. I was glad that Maya had suggested this hike and especially glad that Mikey was having a good time. Spending time with both of them was a rare treat and I intended to savor it.

When I got to the top of the hill, Mikey was recounting the plot of his favorite episode. “And then, the Doctor and Clara are attacked by the Weeping Angels. But the Doctor has a key. Do you know where the key was?”

“Where?” Maya asked, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled.

“Under his wig!” Mikey exclaimed, waving his hand towards his own hair.

I couldn’t help smiling at him. He had insisted on putting on his own sunscreen that morning so there were smudges of white around his nose and ears. I resisted the urge to rub it in.

“His wig?!” Maya’s eyes went wide with astonishment even though she too had seen this episode at least three times. “That is amazing, Mikey.”

“It’s the best episode ever,” he said, with a firm nod.

“It has to be,” Maya readily agreed before turning to me. “You doing ok there, pal?”

I was still breathing pretty heavily and had my hands on my knees while I tried to catch my breath. I threw her a thumbs-up.

“Just great,” I managed to wheeze. “You guys set quite a pace.”

“Not me,” Maya put an arm around Mikey. “This guy is faster than the TARDIS.”

Mikey beamed up at her and my heart melted at the two of them. My favorite people, on top of a mountain, in a city that I loved. Despite the heat and my sore legs, I suddenly felt pretty great.

“You know what,” I said, giving Mikey’s baseball hat – with the Doctor Who logo, of course – a tug. “I think we’ve earned a treat.”

“A treat?” Mikey’s eyes went big.

“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “I think we’ve earned some ice cream. In a cone.”

“Ice cream?” An ice cream cone was a rare treat for us, but I felt that we had earned it. Plus, those tips from the other night had made quite the positive dent in next month’s budget, so I felt that we should splurge a little.

“Yep,” I told him firmly.

Mikey’s smile was enormous and he launched himself at me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I hugged him back as tightly as I could.



Later that night at the bar, I was surprised to see James. And how my pulse quickened at the sight of him. He’s hot, I reminded myself. And you’re still horny. Of course you’re going to start sweating when you see the guy who gave you the hottest orgasms of your life and made your knees weak to boot.

But that didn’t mean he was going to have the same opportunity tonight. One night stands were one night, as had been decided in the slut rulebook.

Instead, I smiled my bartender smile when James approached the bar with a friend, the guy from last night who had looked like a proper, if not stuffy James Bond. He was in a suit, while James was in another tight t-shirt and extremely well-fitted jeans. I imagined everything he was wearing was very expensive – probably costing more than my mother’s old Honda Civic – which served as yet another reminder why going to his room a second time would be a very bad idea.