threw in my bag. I glanced toward the training door where a few other guys were heading out together.
My buddy followed my gaze and shook his head. “Come on. You can’t avoid Martins forever.”
“I can’t?” I’d been doing a damn good job of it so far. The time in therapy had helped since it meant I was missing scrimmages with the team.
Foster was more stubborn than me and he stood there silent while I weighed my options – go home alone and hang out with Marshmallow or have a few beers with the guys. Sadly, the one that sounded more appealing was making me a sad case. A man should only spend so much time alone with his cat.
“Alright, but if he tries to speak to me…” I clenched my hands into fists at my side.
“I will act as your bodyguard, Finnie Poo, don’t you worry.” He jogged around to the passenger side. “You’re driving.”
The Zone was a nice place owned by a guy named Leroy who’d played professional soccer in the eighties. Unlike other places where the owners and bartenders wanted to give us free drinks and fawn over us, Leroy didn’t and didn’t tolerate his patrons doing it either. Somehow that made us all feel more at home. Not to say we didn’t enjoy a free drink and girls screaming our names across a crowded bar, but that was fun for about five minutes before we just wanted to be left alone to unwind in peace.
Foster and I arrived before the rest of the guys, grabbed our beers, and headed to our usual table in the corner.
“You look like shit.” Foster’s green eyes studied me as he sipped his beer. “You really turned Julianna down?”
I nodded.
He whistled low under his breath. “Damn, son, you’re more screwed up than I thought. You need to get back out there. What about Olivia? She asked about you again. You want me to set it up so we all go out together this weekend?”
“Isn’t it weird for men our age to double date?”
“Someone has to be there to make sure you don’t scare the girl off with all your brooding and emo shit.” He shook his head. I went out with Olivia last week and it hadn’t gone all that well so maybe he had a point. “Not a double date, just two couples hanging out together. If I’m completely honest, I might need the buffer myself. Lauren is getting a little…”
“Clingy?”
“Serious.”
“She’s not the one then?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think there is one. I think eventually people just settle down out of boredom. Did you think you’d found the one?”
My mind automatically went to Adele, but I hadn’t told Foster much about her which meant he was referring to Cindy.
“She did. Or that’s what she told me, obviously she lied or changed her mind about that. I guess I just took her word for it. If she felt that way, then it had to be true.” I chuckled. “Needless to say, I wouldn’t take advice from me.”
The rest of the guys showed up sparing me any more deep conversation about love and my failed relationships. And I managed to not speak or even be in the same conversation as Martins. He stayed at the bar and I stayed at the table. Distance was good. Also good, he was the goalie, so I didn’t need to worry about playing with him on the field. He just needed to stay in his box and leave me the fuck alone forever or until I wasn’t so pissed he’d been banging my girl behind my back.
Honestly, who does that? Especially to a teammate. He was lucky Cindy’s dad was an owner because if it were anyone else, he’d be quietly traded. GMs don’t like to deal with that shit. It can kill a team.
“I should get home,” I said a couple hours later. I couldn’t drink much with the meds and though being out had helped keep my mind off Adele for a bit, my thoughts swung back to her like a wrecking ball.
I wondered what it’d be like if she were home waiting for me. I probably wouldn’t have come to the bar in the first place, for starters. And I’d be a lot more excited about getting home.
I took the back exit and was almost to my car when Martins called my name. “McCash, hey wait up.”
He said it so casually that it pissed me right off. I didn’t turn around or respond. He