Half an hour later, we were seated at Outback. There was an hour wait, but the hostess let us skip the line. Maybe it was wrong, but I was going to take advantage of being a local football hero for as long as I could. Unlike Archer, I didn’t anticipate getting picked up in the first round. I was a damn good college tight end, but once I got to the pros, I would be middle of the road.
If I’d learned nothing else from my parents, I’d learned not to overestimate myself.
When the server took our drink orders, Becca ordered water and sighed. “Drink up, boys. I’m the DD by default.”
Roman and I didn’t need to be told twice. I slipped the server a twenty and told him to keep the drinks coming. I normally didn’t throw down during the season, but this was a special occasion. By the fourth beer, Roman let it slip that he’d re-upped his commitment to the navy and was being considered for SEAL training.
Becca’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
Roman gave her a dismissive look. “It’s the military. It’s all dangerous.”
“I know that, but that’s more dangerous than being a regular seaman, right?”
“Technically,” Roman allowed.
“There’s no ‘technical’ about it,” Becca said. “Does Mom know?”
The badass SEAL-to-be shifted uncomfortably and wouldn’t meet his sister’s gaze. “I’m twenty-one. I don’t have to ask permission.”
I laughed. “So that’s a no.”
Their mother, Lydia, was a tiny but formidable woman. Growing up, we were always more afraid of her than their father, who carried a gun for his job as a police officer. Lydia had been a second mother to me. Hell, if I were honest, she was more of a mother to me than my own had been.
That reminded me that the invitation to my sister’s engagement party was sitting on my counter at home. Since I knew what it was, I hadn’t bothered opening the envelope, but I would have to deal with it eventually. When I sent my RSVP, my mother might actually take time out of her busy schedule to talk to me personally. Lucky me.
“I’m working up to it,” Roman muttered. “I didn’t want to drop that bombshell on my first visit home.” He downed the last of his beer and leaned back in the booth, crossing his arms. Though he was probably just as buzzed as I was, his calculating eyes scanned the room.
It hit me that my best friend was deadly—a trained killer—and he was about to become even more trained. Roman’s job was to protect our country, and what was mine? Playing football and trying not to flunk out of school so I could keep playing. It wasn’t that I ever thought football was important in the grand scheme of things, but it suddenly seemed even more trivial.
Becca was on her way to bettering mankind as well. As a biomedical engineer, she planned to develop artificial organs that would save lives.
All I did was catch a damn ball.
Becca’s foot nudged mine. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.
I realized I’d been staring into my beer as if I were contemplating world peace. Not world peace, just the insignificance of my existence.
Shit. I wasn’t normally an emotional drunk. Not that I was being emotional exactly. It was more like I was having an existential crisis.
Fuck. How had I gone from the high of playing well in the game to this? I didn’t like it. I didn’t consider myself shallow, but I wouldn’t call myself a deep person either. It was easier not to take life too seriously.
“I’m fine.” Very convincing, Fleck.
Becca’s beautiful mouth twisted into a frown. “Are you sure?”
I forced a smile onto my face and relaxed my shoulders. “Of course. I kicked ass in the game, and now I’m here with my two favorite people. What else could I ask for?”
My answer seemed to satisfy her because her mouth tilted upward again. God, she’s beautiful. She’d always been cute, even when we were kids, but somewhere along the line, cuteness gave way to beauty. I shouldn’t appreciate it as much as I did, especially with her brother sitting right next to her.
All of a sudden, I was extra glad he was there. His presence was just what I needed to remember that Becca might as well be my kid sister.
Except deep in my gut, I was shamefully thankful she wasn’t.
CHAPTER 7
Becca
CARSON GOT A text from Jake. Wyatt and a bunch of the players were at Bleakers in a private room.
“Bleakers?” I questioned. “Are you sure that’s right?” The last I’d heard, the bar was on the verge of closing.
True to my word, I was driving Carson’s and Roman’s drunk asses downtown. Had I thought ahead, I would have insisted on taking my car to the restaurant. Instead, I was forced to drive Carson’s new Jeep, which made me nervous as hell. He wouldn’t care if I dinged it, but I would. He’d always been spoiled when it came to material things, so he could be careless with his possessions. I, on the other hand, noticed every new little scratch on my eight-year-old Kia. It had been my parents’ gift to me when I left for college. My family wasn’t poor, but compared to Carson’s, we were downright destitute. They’d had to save to afford the car.
“Yeah,” Carson said. “They’re letting us use the room after home games. It’s a smart business move on their part. We get a little privacy, but once people figure out we’re there, the bar will get flooded.”
Downtown Bleaksburg wasn’t very big, so it was difficult for more than a handful of players to go out together. It always turned into a spectacle, and a lot of them avoided it altogether.
In the back seat, Roman laughed. “Listen to Mr. Fleck spout off his business knowledge.”
“Can’t grow up in the Fleck house without picking up something.” It might have been my imagination, but Carson’s voice had a note of bitterness. I knew he didn’t get along with his family very well, but he didn’t usually let that affect him.
“I thought players couldn’t accept gifts,” I said.
“We can’t,” Carson confirmed. “But this is a gray area. As long as they’re not giving us free drinks, letting us use the room should be fine.”
I adjusted the rearview mirror. “I hope they renovated since the last time I was there.”
The bar was dingy and outdated, which wasn’t a deal breaker, but the women’s bathroom was a wreck. Out of the three stalls, only one had a door, which wasn’t saying much because it had been hanging on by a solitary hinge. I didn’t have business knowledge like Carson, but even I knew that females were more likely to patronize a bar if it had a nice bathroom. And the guys would go wherever the girls were. It wasn’t rocket science.
Carson fiddled with the radio. “If it sucks, we’ll leave.”
Word must have already gotten around that the players were hanging out at Bleakers because by the time we arrived, it was packed. Most of the players were in the private room, but a few were in the public area, which was no doubt what the manager had been angling for.
As we made our way through the throngs of people, a girl grabbed Carson’s arm and pulled him toward her. “Carson! I was hoping you’d be here!”
I glanced back to see an easy smile was on his face. Though it probably wasn’t obvious to anyone else, I could tell he didn’t remember this girl from whenever they had met. Probably a random hookup. Jealousy pulsed through my veins, and I did my best to shake it off. I had no claim to Carson.