Page 18 of The Pucking Grump

It’s agonizing. But there’s also a sickly sweetness in that, something exciting I can’t place. Every time I brush against her fully clothed body, all my nerve endings feel like they are on fire.

She makes me feel more alive than I have in a long time.

There’s a sudden uproar in the bar that shakes me out of my thoughts. I look up, realizing someone just scored. Slightly bored and even more buzzed, I decide I’ve had enough. It’s much too early to go home, but I’m certain I can find other ways to distract myself.

“Can I borrow your cell?” I ask Shane.

Outside the bar, on a stretch of a dusty road, I dial my friend Alex. We met playing for the Philly Titans more than half a decade ago, but he retired a couple of years back.

After he fell in love with my sister and decided that from then on, he only wanted to play exhibition games.

My grip on the phone tightens.

Exactly my point. Love, or people’s messed up concept of it, managed to ruin a lot of things around me, including my friendships. And it’s the gift that keeps on giving.

He picks up on the first ring. “Hey!” I can hear other voices in the background, and it sounds like he’s hanging out with the guys. “We expected to see you yesterday.”

Before I can formulate a reply, I hear Reggie, another friend of mine. “Is that Blake? Let me guess, he’s going to say he got held up at his cabin. Sooner or later, Blake, we’re going to start thinking you’ve got a girl stashed up there.”

Oh, you’ve got no idea.

“Shut your damn mouth,” Alex says with a chuckle. “Ignore him, Blake. He just finds it odd you like to spend most of your free time alone reading books.”

Hypocritical, since Reggie was about the biggest loner in the league. Neither of them seems to realize how twisted it is that he has the guts to lecture me on keeping to myself.

“How’s it going over there?” I ask.

Alex hums. “You missed yesterday’s exhibition game, and you were supposed to make it over here for todays, but I guess that’s not going to happen.”

“Yeah,” I start, wondering what explanation could possibly make up for that. “I?—”

Alex cuts me short. “It’s fine, you know. I was busy too. James got some weird rash on his butt, and Brit wanted us to get it checked out.”

My grip tightens even more. Two years ago, Alex was the worst playboy the league had ever seen. He was so notorious that his exes often trashed him on X, tagging him as a toxic piece of shit. It almost cost him his career more than once.

And then, the next thing I know, he’s getting his head out of the game and falling in love. Now, my formerly timid, overly-protected-by-our-father sister is happily married with a kid.

That’s one of the reasons I got this cabin. Because while the world is changing rapidly around me, I could go to a place where I could be by myself and be reminded of normalcy. Not that I have any other option nowadays, what with the fact that my friends now spend their weekends with their new families.

I hear shuffling feet from the other end of the line, and then another voice pops up. “Is that Blake? Tell him to go fuck himself for missing yesterday.”

I feel my stiff lip draw into a smile as I hear Ken, who, thank God, is still completely attached to the single life. Being around him has gone unchanged, at least.

“You didn’t miss anything, though.” It’s Reggie speaking now. “Just a lot of gossip about that singer you despise.”

The smile drops off my lips. The last four days have been horrible, but given that Faye has been in a somewhat better mood today, I assume that she has followed my suggestion to not watch TV. Letting my friends tell me the current news about her does not bode well.

“Then I really didn’t miss anything,” I say. “How’s Brit doing?” Even after a couple of years, it still feels weird to ask about my sister’s wellbeing from Alex.

Alex lets out a chuckle. “Wow, you really dislike her.”

I clamp my lips together before a growl of frustration spills out. I want to punch myself for all of the times I went on a rampage about Faye Strummer for no damn reason in front of these men, the guys who were now determined to remind me of it. Like she doesn’t occupy every damn waking moment of my thoughts already.

On the other hand, I couldn’t blame them. Not one part of me would have ever imagined that I’d be attracted to her. If I had her stashed in my house and felt nothing for her, allowing them to talk about her wouldn’t cause me the slightest hint of discomfort.

Right now, though . . .

“We keep wondering where she is,” I hear Ken say. “Like her dad has been on TV and YouTube and podcasts every other second talking shit about her. You’ve got to wonder why she’s just sitting down, letting it happen.”

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