Page 60 of A Whole New Play

I wouldn’t be able to stomach her driving home late at night again. I couldn’t forgive myself if something else happened to her. That’s why I lied and said I could forget about what happened between us.

There doesn’t exist a world where I would’ve been able to forget the way Valerie’s toned legs felt wrapped around my waist. Or how her lips felt pressed against my neck. Or how badly I wanted her—how badly I still want her.

“How about we just drop by to say hello?” Corey offers, once again glancing at me through the rearview mirror before steering the car to the exit ramp toward downtown. “Then we can go get a drink somewhere else.”

“What? No!” Carlee says, indignant.

“This is the first night the twins have been with Laura for months,” he reminds his girlfriend, gently taking her hand and resting their linked fingers on the middle console. “It’s the first time Carter hasn’t been on dad duty. Even when your parents watch the twins, you know he doesn’t relax. If he doesn’t want to spend the night at a club for his nanny’s birthday party, he shouldn’t have to.”

Corey Johnson may be a gruff hard ass to the rest of the world. Hell, even to me. But he’s also the empathetic kid who was dealt a shitty hand in life but overcame those trials to become a quality human being and one hell of a best friend.

I can’t think of a better guy for my sister.

Not that I’ll ever tell him that. Not until their inevitable wedding during my best man’s speech.

Carlee glances from Corey to me. Finally, she sighs and faces forward with a huff. “Fine. You’re right. We can just say hello and then go somewhere else. Does that work?”

I nod, feeling equal parts relieved and disappointed. “Sounds like a plan.”

17

CARTER

That plan goes to shit less than five minutes after we walk into the club.

Carlee leads us to the VIP section on the second floor per Megan’s instructions. Despite her earlier claim that Valerie doesn’t have many friends in the city, the area is filled with young women and men with colorful cocktails and beer bottles in their hands, chatting amongst themselves over the loud music thumping through the speakers.

The only person I recognize is Megan.

To my knowledge, Carlee’s never met her, but my sister walks right up to the brunette and greets her with a warm hug. I hang back. At my questioning side eye, Corey just shrugs and then follows his girlfriend to be introduced to Valerie’s best friend.

It isn’t long before the people around the VIP section notice the star baseball pitcher. Corey’s been all over the news lately. After a season that had its highs and lows, the Lonestars busted their asses and managed to earn a spot in the playoffs—in large thanks to Corey and some kick-ass pitching. The team has been dominating, and most sports outlets have them making it to the World Series. It would be a hell of an achievement for the Dallas baseball team.

As always, Corey ignores most of their starstruck stares and excited whispers. Though, I do see him take hold of Carlee’s hand and give it a nervous squeeze. My sister shoots him an encouraging smile before returning to her conversation with Megan.

I stand at the railing that separates the VIP section from the rest of the club, unnoticed for the time being. But that won’t last. I’ve been on the Rough Riders for years. I’m recognizable to football fans all over the country but that’s especially true in the Dallas Metro area.

I take advantage of Corey monopolizing everyone’s focus for the time being and turn around to take in my surroundings.

The club is crowded but not packed thanks to the bouncers outside controlling who enters. There was a decent line outside when we arrived, but Carlee had walked right to the front and given our names to the muscular bouncer in a black shirt. He hadn’t even looked at his clipboard before lifting the velvet rope and letting us in. I would’ve credited my celebrity, but Carlee told me Megan rented out the VIP section and gave the guests’ names for automatic entry to the popular club. It must’ve cost a pretty penny. I’m curious about what Megan does for a living.

Most of the men I see are wearing blazers. I feel underdressed in a white button-down with my sleeves rolled up. It’s been years since I’ve gone out to a club. Whenever I do have a night out, I typically hang out with the guys at a bar. I’m not big into dancing. I’m athletic, but that doesn’t translate to having rhythm. Not like the men and women currently jumping and swaying on the dance floor in the middle of the club.

Flashing strobe lights swing across the sea of dancers. Like she’s metal and my eyes are magnets, I find Valerie in the center of the crowd.

Her long black hair is curled and falls around her shoulders as she shimmies to the popular song playing over the speakers. She dances with another woman. The pair are smiling and laughing with each other, seemingly unaware of the attention they’re drawing from the men sipping their drinks just a few feet away.

“Carter! You made it.”

I force my eyes off my enticing nanny and turn to Megan. There’s a knowing gleam in her eyes as she glances between me and the dancefloor. “I didn’t think football stars partied when they’re in season.”

“The responsible ones don’t.” I give her a side hug, careful not to spill the glass of white wine she carries. “Thank you for inviting me and my sister.”

“Of course!” She returns the polite hug and then steps away. “Valerie is going to be happy you’re here.”

I lift a brow. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She grins conspiratorially. Immediately, wonder if Valerie told her about our recent kiss. If their relationship is anything like Carlee and Morgan’s, there’s no way they didn’t talk about it.

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