I grab a beer from a cooler and head into the living room where most of the action seems to be happening. As I walk in, I stop dead in my tracks and take in the scene around me.Several of my teammates are relaxing on the furniture....with some random chick blowing them.In the living room.While two dozen people are cheering them on and Shivel is calling out things like "Thirty seconds boys! Suck harder girls! The title is on the line!"I want to pull my eyes away from the scene but I'm so stunned by what I'm watching that I can't. One by one, my eyes take in each of the contestants before they finally land on the dark hair I was hoping to see. But not like this.Tiffany.Her hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail and her eyes are closed in concentration as she sucks and licks Nate Funderlings's cock. Her cheeks are sucked in, showing how hard her pull is. One of her hands is holding onto him, quickly stroking in time with movement of her mouth. The other is massaging his balls.My h
An hour later, I'm sitting alone on the balcony at Mack's place, waiting for Sasha to either pass out or get bored. We're taking a cab, but I can't leave her here alone. We do some crazy shit, but for the most part, we try to watch each other's backs.I watch as my whiskey swirls around in my glass. But all I can think about is the look on Rowen's face when Mack declared me the winner. It was a mixture of shock and anger. Those looks I can handle. I've seen it all before as people flit in and out of our circle of friends. It's the disappointment that I can't let go of.Which I don't understand at all. I've never claimed to be anything other than what I am. I'm not here to snag a player as a husband. I've never strived to become a WAG. I just like partying with the guys and I love sex. Period. The end.So why does Rowen's opinion matter to me at all?The door to the balcony slowly slides open and I down the rest of my drink, assuming Sasha is finally ready to call it a night. I put the
"It was really beautiful. That's what I remember the most. Everywhere we went was full of architecture and different kinds of terrains, different oceans. My dad would be busy with team stuff so when we weren't at a game, my mom always made sure we would tour the city we were in. She would always find some way to make it educational. We would visit museums and learn about the art. Or we'd tour a historical ruin and talk about what life was like hundreds of years ago. Or we'd visit the ocean and talk about sea life.""So she home schooled you?""No. I still went to school during the year. She just felt really strongly that there was a whole world of opportunity and experiences out there to explore and wanted to make sure I didn't miss any of it.""Sounds like it was an amazing childhood.""It really was," he says wistfully, staring off into space as he remembers. "My favorite trips though where when my dad was playing in Dublin. We'd always take an extra few days to visit my grandparents
Exhausted, sweaty, and we all stink. But for the first time, I don't feel like I have one foot in the grave after practice. My body must have finally pushed passed that plateau I've been struggling with. It feels good to keep up more.I trail in behind the others, throwing my jersey in the giant laundry cart on my way by. I can't imagine being the person who does laundry around here. Practice clothes are disgusting. If it was me, I'd be tempted to set the whole cart on fire on a daily basis.The locker room is loud. When a few dozen sweaty athletes all start throwing gear around, the noise level definitely goes up a few notches. I almost don't hear Christian over it all."Did you ask her out?""What?" I ask as I strip off my cleats. "Who? What are you talking about?""I seem to remember a conversation we had a couple weeks ago about a certain sports producer who was catching your eye." I can feel my face start to flush. I had forgotten about the conversation. Not about what I had lear
"How do you make a strawberry shake?"I look up from my computer and smile. I'm totally engrossed in researching stats of some of the contenders for this year's Football Hall of Fame. But that little voice is always able to tear me away from the most interesting research. And this isn't interesting at all. I swivel around in my chair and look the brown-haired cutie in the eye. "I don't know. How do you make a strawberry shake?""Put it in the freezer!" Ashley covers her mouth and starts laughing at her own joke."That's a good one," I say with a smile. "So what's our category?""Fruit jokes. Your turn."I lean back in my chair and pretend to think really hard before answering. "Got one," I say with a snap of my fingers. "What is a vampire's favorite fruit?"She narrows her eyes at me momentarily before surprising me with the answer. "A neck-tarine.""How did you know that?" I ask, fake shock on my face. Truthfully, I rarely know a joke she hasn't already heard, which means she always
"Um, hi. Tiffany?" The voice on the line sounds familiar, but I can't quite place it."Yes?""This is Rowen. Rowen Flanigan?"My heart starts pounding and a feel a smile stretch across my face. "Hey, Rookie. How are you?""I'm good. I hope I didn't catch you in the middle of something important." He sounds kind of nervous, which is strange because he has always come across as quiet before, but not usually nervous. Of course, we've only interacted a handful of times so I guess I can't really make that judgment.I lean back in my chair. "I'm just at work.""Oh shit," he says. "I totally forgot you would be working today. I forget not everyone has rotating hours like me. I can call you later.""No, no!" I say quickly, afraid he's going to hang up. "I'm just doing some research right now. I'm not in the middle of anything pressing.""Oh. Okay. Can I ask what the research is on?"I relax back into my chair and smile again. "I'm researching stats on Football Hall of Famers. The list of this
I've only ever been in the northern states or Europe at the end of winter/beginning of Spring. Needless to say, the weather this time of year in Houston is like nothing I've ever experienced.It was warm, temps in the seventies, the entire month between Thanksgiving and Christmas. The week after Christmas? It dropped to the thirties and all of a sudden I was in the holiday spirit. But it bounced back and I have to admit, winter has been really pleasant compared to what I'm used to. No blizzards. No frigid, bone chilling wind. While I'm not looking forward to a hundred and ten degree temperatures with ninety-five percent humidity in August, this time of year, I understand the appeal of Houston. "You realize it's seventy-two degrees out."I look at Tiffany, as we walk away from The Grove, where we just ate the best hamburgers I've had since moving to Texas. "I know.""Don't you think it's a little too warm to wear that beanie?"I smile and tug it down over my ears. Nervous habit, I gue
She shifts her body so she's facing me. I immediately miss the feeling of her thigh resting on mine. "The television markets are ranked on how big your demographic is. For instance, New York City has the largest population in the country so they're ranked number one. Los Angeles is ranked number two. Most people, when they first get out of college, start in a really tiny market like Lubbock or Amarillo. They're both ranked well into the one hundreds.""How many markets are there?""Over two hundred. The larger the market you work in, the more you get paid, the more sports teams there are, the better the stories and opportunities. So while you may start out in a tiny market making minimum wage, the goal is to get a big market where there are bigger perks and maybe even national attention.""So where is Houston ranked?""Last time I looked… it's number eight.""Holy shit," I exclaim. "That's really good!"She nods excitedly. "I know. My first television job is a full hundred and fifty ma