Lainey’s List Chapter 11

Nick

“Where are Lainey and Cass?” Charlotte asks when she gets home to our lonely condo.

I contemplate lying but figured Charlie would get an earful about my behavior from Lainey tomorrow, at the latest. I wave a laconic hand from the sofa where I’m pretending to watch ESPN. “I pissed her off.”

“Oh, Nick,” Charlotte laments. She drops her purse and fifty-pound planner on the table, kicks off her shoes, and joins me in front of the television. Leaning forward, she plucks my beer bottle from the coffee table and takes a swig without even asking. I guess she needs it to deal with me. “What happened this time?”

I need it too. I snag the bottle back and drink all but the last couple of swallows before handing it back to her. There isn’t much I can say that doesn’t paint me as a complete idiot and asshole, so I settle for, “Just me doing nickthings.”

“Did you just quote your social media hashtag at me?” Charlie says in the middle of tipping the bottle toward her face. I gently give the bottom a push so she has something to do with her mouth other than ask me questions.

“No. They use my last name on social media—#NickJacksonThings—but nice of you to keep up.” I push myself off the cushion and wander into the kitchen to grab another beer. “What do you want to order tonight?” I wave the take out menus.

“Italian and bring me another beer. Or better yet, a bottle of red wine.”

“The whole bottle?” I tease and pull a bottle of Cab from the wine rack.

“I figure I’ll need it so I don’t end up massacring you with the bottle.”

“Usually I get girls drunk so I’m more attractive.” I open the bottle, pour a large glass, and deliver the wine to Charlie before she attacks me. “But now I’m doing it so I can escape the night without being bashed in the head.”

She rolls her eyes before pointing to the dish she wants. I call in the order.

When I first moved to Texas as a rookie, Charlie came with me. She didn’t have anything better to do and our parents—college friends who practically raised us as one family unit—thought I might need a helping hand.

I did. I went kind of crazy my rookie year. It wasn’t the money; I’d grown up with that. My trust fund was bigger than my salary, although, my signing bonus wasn’t anything to sneeze at.

It was the attention. I’d enjoyed it in high school and even more so in college. There’s something about the way girls look at you when you’re the quarterback—one part awe and one part unadulterated I-want-in-your-pants-so-bad lust. It’s intoxicating and I was drunk on it.

It only got better—or worse if you ask Charlie—when I was drafted in the first round, because the promise of fame and money that lured the girls in college hardened into reality when I made it to the pros.

There were women everywhere. They stayed late at the practice facility. They hung out at the bars we frequented. Hell, some of them were able to stalk me at the grocery store using the geo location of my social media posts. Charlie figured out how to turn that off but by that time, I’d gotten scared of using social media and turned those over to a public relations team to handle.

When I met Lainey, I was caught up in the life and I didn’t make a good impression. I’m still paying for it, two years later.

“I’m thinking I should get a serious girlfriend. Like… a kindergarten teacher or maybe a nanny. Aren’t athletes supposed to like nannies?”

“So your type has moved from hot blondes to women who are around small kids. Can’t imagine why you are interested in those women.” She rolls her eyes.

“What?” I ask defensively. “So I like kids. I don’t think that’s something I should be ashamed of.”

Charlie pins me with an exasperated look. “Why don’t you just ask Lainey out on a proper date instead of random acts of screwing when you think no one is around to find out?”

When I shift uncomfortably on the sofa, Charlie leaps off the cushion. “Please tell me you didn’t have sex on the sofa.”

Since I prefer not to lie to my best friend, I stare into the bottom of my beer bottle. “We had sex on the sofa.”

“And you’re talking about dating someone else? You’re so hung up on Lainey, it’s not even funny.”

“Exactly. I’m hung up on her, and she uses me to blow off steam whenever she gets the itch in her crotch.” I slam the bottle onto the coffee table in frustration. “Obviously, Lainey has something that I feel I’m missing. I think it’s Cassidy or Lainey’s mothering instinct. I keep going back to that well and drinking poisoned water. It’s not good for me.” I rub a hand across my chest. “I think it’s going to affect my game.”

Charlie’s irritation fades away, and she takes up the seat beside me. Her small body curls into mine.

“It sucks, being in love, doesn’t it?” she whispers.

I slide an arm around her thin frame, thinking about all she’s gone through and wondering which is worse—the cancer or the abandonment by my brother.

“Yeah, it really does.”

 

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