Page 129 of Well Played

7

Nico

“What did you do to Summer?”Kaitlyn asks, or rather, accuses.

I groan in response. It’s too early in the morning to deal with this. What time is it? Eight-thirty. Doesn’t she realize it’s Saturday morning? Since when does Kaitlyn call me at this hour?

“I have no clue what you’re talking about or why you’re calling me.” And all I want is to grab another hour or two of sleep.

“She texted that she’s sorry, but she can’t make it to Ava’s.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” I say through a yawn.

“I’m sorry, did I interrupt your morning blow-off?”

I chuckle. “No, more like blow job.”I wish.

“You’re gross.”

“I’m joking.” I don’t know why they think I hook up all the time. Just because I keep my private life private and don’t look to cross lines with the women in the league like Timmy does, doesn’t mean I’m banging a new chick every week.

“That’s the problem, Nico. You don’t have a sense of humor. I’m sure whatever reason Summer has for avoiding us has to do with you.”

“Fuck off. I didn’t do anything. I haven’t seen her since we all went to the bar.”

“Go check on her. It’s the least you can do.”

“What? Why me? If you’re so worried, then you check up on her.”

“You have a better excuse. She’s your partner, and you should develop a friendship with her.”

Friendship?With Summer?That’s an oxymoron.

I roll my eyes. “Fine,” I grumble. When the hell did I become Summer’s keeper? “What’s her address?”

“I don’t have it.”

“And I do?”

“It’s on the form you had us fill out to join the league.”

Right. I have those all electronically. “Fine. I’ll pass by when I get the chance.”

“Go now, and maybe you can convince her to come to Ava’s. If not, let her know we’re thinking about her.”

“I think she’ll get the hint when I show up at her door,” I say before hanging up and heading to the bathroom for a quick shower.

This is stupid.I shouldn’t be here. I spot Summer’s car in the community lot and park next to it. That’s not creepy at all. I look in my rearview mirror and run my hand through my hair.

Fuck!

Why the hell did I agree to this? I feel like a stalker showing up here. Especially since I didn’t text or call first. I have enoughproblems dealing with Summer. The last thing I need is to be slapped with a restraining order.

Keeping my sunglasses on, I get out of the car and head toward her apartment. I want to turn around and go home with every step.

Luckily, or maybe unluckily, I spot her heading my way. Great, she’s out for a walk or heading to her car to leave. Can I pretend I don’t see her? Shit, that’s even weirder. My heart hammers in my chest.

This is going to be so fucking awkward. I should’ve had something prepared to say before I got out of the car—some excuse for being here.

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