Rate a Date by Monica Murphy Page 0,77
about me and my troubles. And while I appreciate their help and need their support, I also don’t want any negativity aimed at Mitch.
Damn it, I really care about the guy.
The TVs are on at Milligan’s, and of course they’re all tuned in to sports. Either the Football Network or ESPN. My gaze catches on one of the screens when I spot the Raiders emblem, and I watch as my friends talk all around me, my jaw dropping open when I see my Mitch appear on the TV.
“Shush!” I tell my friends, my gaze glued to his face, which is like four times its normal size, thanks to the enormity of the big screen.
Thankfully, they all go quiet. And I can actually, sort of hear what he’s saying.
“…it’s going to be a good season. We did well last year, and I think this season, we’re going to be even stronger, especially with Clay leading us,” Mitch explains.
“That’s him,” Kelsey hiss-whispers to everyone else at the table.
The interview switches to someone else, the reporter talking about spending time at the team’s practice earlier today and I can only sit there, completely dumbfounded. Feeling like a fool. I knew Kelsey was telling the truth. Google doesn’t lie.
Well, most of the time.
But there were so many articles listed. And photos. Lots and lots of photos. His name on the Raiders team roster. It was all right there, in black-and-white or full color, telling me that yes, indeed, he’s a pro football player for the NFL.
None of it felt real, though, until seeing him in that interview just now. His hair curling around his head, like he was a little sweaty. Wearing a Raiders T-shirt and grim determination. Talking on a national television network like he doesn’t have anything to hide, while he’s texting me at this very minute, asking where I am.
Who does this guy think he is?
Yes, I really care about the guy, but now I’m even angrier.
“He acts like he’s just living life,” I say, waving my hand at the TV screen. “All the while, he’s lying to me. Who does that?”
“Psychopaths,” Kelsey answers, making Sarah choke on her beer.
“I doubt he’s an actual psychopath,” Sarah says once she’s stopped coughing.
“Egomaniac then,” Amelia suggests.
“That makes no sense,” Kelsey says. “If he’s an egomaniac, he would’ve led with the pro football thing. He would want women to know he’s the big-time football player so they’ll lose their minds and panties for him in an instant.”
Now there’s an image. One I don’t want put into my head. Mitch is a very—sexual man. He likes sex. He’s really good at it. Meaning, he’s probably had a lot of it. With lots of women. Fans of his. Groupies. They probably throw themselves at him on a regular basis. He could have as much pussy as he wants, whenever he wants it.
God, look at me. I’m thinking just like him.
“Maybe he wanted to find a woman who appreciated him for who he is, not what he does,” Sarah suggests.
We all go quiet. Especially me.
“I’m sure he meets plenty of women, but they all just want him because of his fame, or his money, or because of what he does for a living. And I bet that gets old,” Sarah further explains. “Maybe he went on that Rate a Date app to find a woman he can connect with on a real level.”
“What a bunch of horseshit,” Amelia starts, but I send her a look, silencing her.
“Go on,” I encourage Sarah.
She sits up straighter, and I can tell she’s getting into it. I like the direction she’s taking. But could it be true? Or is it just me being hopeful?
“There was nothing about professional football mentioned on his profile, right?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
“And he never brought up anything related to football when you guys talked?”
“Never. I practically had to pry it out of him that he works with professional athletes,” I say.
“That’s not necessarily a lie,” Sarah starts.
“Oh, give me a break. Stop making excuses for this guy. He’s a total douche, leading you on like this and not being truthful,” Amelia says, sounding thoroughly disgusted. Her nose is wrinkled and her eyes are narrowed, like she just smelled something bad. She’s pretty in an understated, elegant way. She comes from money, unlike some of us. She works at her family’s jewelry store, and hopes to run it someday, though her father is bit of a tyrant. Oh, and sexist.
“What else could