Carrie: Saw your game schedule. You’re in town tonight, I see. I’m free, and you better be too!
Ashley: You’re in my city tonight. I want to see you! I’ll make it worth your while.
I go into my Notes app, finding the note titled “DENVER,” trying to remember who these women are.
Apparently, Carrie was a great lay with a fantastic rack, and Ashley gave one hell of a blowjob.
It’s going to be hard to choose where I want my night to take me. Then there’s the option of going out and seeing if I can widen my Denver roster with some new recruits.
“We going out tonight?” I ask my best friend as we ascend the stairs onto our new plane.
“I’m grabbing dinner with a buddy from college. My old teammate lives in Denver.”
“Ah shit, that’s right. Well, after, let’s grab some drinks.”
“I’m having an early night.”
“You always have an early night,” I remind him. “All you want to do is hang in your hotel room and call your wife. The only time you go out with me is when Logan makes you.”
“Well, I have a one-week-old son, so I can guarantee that I’m not going out tonight. I need some sleep.”
“How is little MJ?” Scott asks at the top of the stairs.
“Cutest little shit.” Maddison pulls out his phone to show off the countless pictures he’s sent me over the week. “Already ten times more chill than Ella was as a newborn.”
Stepping in front of them, I walk into our new plane, taken aback by how amazing it is. It’s completely brand new with custom carpet, seats, and our team logo plastered everywhere.
Bypassing the front half of the plane, where the coaches and staff sit, I make my way to the exit row, where Maddison and I have sat for years now, ever since he became Captain and I became Alternate Captain. We run every aspect of this team, including where we sit on the airplane.
Veterans sit in the exit row, and as your seniority on the team falls, the further back you sit, with rookies all the way in the last row.
“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” I quickly state, finding our second-year defenseman, Rio, sitting in my seat. “Get up.”
“I was thinking,” Rio begins, his goofy-ass grin taking up his entire face. “New plane, maybe new seats? Maybe you and Maddison want to sit in the back of the plane with the rookies this year?”
“Fuck no. Get up. I don’t care if you’re not a rookie this season. I’ll still treat you like one.”
His curly hair falls over his dark green eyes, but I can still see them shining with amusement as he tests me. Little fucker.
He’s from Boston, Massachusetts. An Italian mama’s boy who likes to test my patience. But almost every time he opens his damn mouth, I end up laughing. He’s pretty fucking funny. I will say that.
“Rio, get out of our seats,” Maddison commands from behind me.
“Yes, sir.” He quickly stands, snagging his boom box from the next seat over, and hurries to the back of the plane where he belongs.
“Why does he listen to you and not to me? I’m ten times more intimidating than you.”
“Maybe because you take him out whenever we’re on the road and treat him like your little wingman, whereas I’m his captain and keep the line clear.”
Maybe if my closest friend would come out with me, I wouldn’t have to recruit a twenty-two-year-old to be my backup when we’re out on the town.
Throwing my bag in the overhead bin, I take the seat closest to the window.
“Fuck no.” Maddison stands, staring down at me. “You had the window last year. You’re in the aisle seat this season.”
I look at the seat directly next to mine then back to him. “I get motion sickness.”
Maddison bursts into a fit of laughter. “No, you don’t. Stop being a little bitch and get up.”
I unwillingly move to the next seat over, each row on this plane only having two seats on either side of the aisle. A couple of other long-time vets sit in the row opposite us.
Pulling my phone out, I reread the messages from the girls in Denver, contemplating how I want my night to go. “Would you go for a great lay, a mind-blowing blowjob, or take your chances with someone new?”
Maddison completely ignores me.
“All three?” I answer for him. “I might be able to swing that.”
Another text comes through. This time it’s a group message from our agent, Rich.
Rich: Interview with the Chicago Tribune before the game tomorrow. Play it up. Make us that money.