Page 63 of Mark my Words

“Dude, you still have to report to an office daily and get health benefits. That’s about as corporate as you get.”

Blake was the manager at a sporting goods store, having played lacrosse competitively in high school, but he’d dropped out of college after a few semesters to help raise his little sisters when his dad died.

“We can’t all have Peter Pan syndrome. Some of us have to work one of those stuffy corporate jobs to have somewhere to live.”

“You think I like living with three teenage girls? Are you kidding me? They’re insane, and I want to commit murder every time one of them brings some punk-ass kid home with them for a date. I can’t wait until I have enough saved up to get my own place. I don’t care how many roommates I have to find. I’m not living at home forever.”

“Yeah, I can’t even imagine living with all my sisters again,” I commiserated. My eldest sister had almost been in high school when I was born. Now, her kids were in elementary school, which made me feel ancient because I was in their wedding at the same age my nephews were. “Having roommates isn’t so bad. You want mine? Tech-heads with the maturity of adolescents.”

“Dude, I would kill to live at your place.” While my building wasn’t anything fancy, it was much cleaner than some of the dumps we toured, and it was easy to get to by public transportation.

“I’ll keep an eye out and let you know if anyone is looking.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” He slapped me on the shoulder and laughed. “You ready to get our asses handed to us?”

“Yeah, might as well get this over with so we can get to the after-game drowning our sorrows.”

We managed to keep up with the Rockets in the first quarter; one of our other attackers, Foster, got early possession of the ball and scored before their goalie could react. That was the only easy point we scored as both teams lobbed the ball back and forth, the other team tiring out our goalie quickly with shot after shot. They only managed to make a fraction of them, but it still put them up by three going into the second quarter.

I scored a few points at the beginning of the third quarter, but then we had several bad turnovers, and the Rocket’s lead expanded to eight. During the fourth quarter, we were all fucking exhausted, but they didn’t stop, scoring three more goals, and we finished the game getting spanked 14-6. Despite the crushing loss, I felt good—sore and tired—but it’d been a good distraction from all the stress I’d been carrying around, waiting for the other shoe to drop in my personal life.

The locker room was lively; my teammates were excited to go out and get hammered to make up for losing. They probably would have gotten just as drunk if we’d managed to pull off a victory, but that’s just how they were. Most of us were single in our early to mid-twenties, but a few more seasoned players were on the cusp of their thirties and had wives or babies at home.

“You coming out?” Kent, our goalie, asked as he pulled a clean shirt on and started fastening the buttons on the front. He’d gotten married the year before, and his wife was pregnant last I heard. He was a firefighter for the BFD and is still in ridiculous shape despite being five years older than the rest of us.

“Yeah, I need to get out of my head this week,” I nodded, rubbing a towel over my damp hair.

“Work?” he asked with a smirk. “Or pussy?”

I held back the laugh that wanted to tumble out, knowing that Kristine would castrate me if she knew I was talking about her using that terminology. “Little bit of both.”

“You got a girlfriend, Sam?” No. I guess I didn’t, but I also couldn’t fathom looking for someone else to warm my bed right now—or give me shit or criticize my work.

“Not really,” I admitted, pulling on my jeans and buttoning them up. “I was sort of seeing someone from my office, but it was complicated.”

“Ah, the good ol’ office fuck. Fun until it’s not anymore.”

“Something like that.” Fun, until you let your guard down and start feeling things.

“Just enjoy it, man. Before you know it, you’ll be stuck in the burbs with a cranky wife who eats everything in sight and threatens to rip your dick off if you ever get her pregnant again.” By the smile on his face, he looked like he was joking, but damn.

“Married life not what you were expecting?”

“Nah, man, it’s great. We fucked like bunnies for the first two months. That’s probably why I won’t get laid until this kid is out. Karma,” he laughed. “It probably also doesn’t help that I keep getting called out on jobs whenever she wants me to start fixing shit around the house. Nesting is no joke.”

“Oh, I know. Four older sisters, remember?”

“You ever gonna settle down?” He arched an eyebrow, sitting on the bench across from me and tying the laces on his shoes. “You’re not getting any younger.”

“Fuck, Kent. I’m twenty-four. Don’t start acting like my mother.”

“Just kidding. But is this girl you’re torn up over the one?”

“Man, married life has made you soft. The one? Really?” I teased. But it was a valid question. Was Kristine someone I could see myself with long-term? What would happen if a position became available at the Chicago office? I didn’t see a long-distance relationship working out all that well.

“You’re thinking about it. That must mean she has some wifey potential.”

Before I could respond, Blake threw himself onto the bench next to me, a waft of potent cologne filling my nostrils. “Fucking get dressed already, Langley. The drunk coeds of Boston College wait for no man.”

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