Page 5 of Play Book

“A little.” He looks away, his face suddenly shrouded. “Especially with Brenna and me on the outs.”

“You guys start counseling?”

“Yeah.” He takes a pull from his beer. “I don’t know that it’s helping.”

“Has she said what’s wrong?”

“I gotta tell you, man—I feel like she’s gaslighting me sometimes. Like she twists it around and says that I’m the one that’s unhappy. But I wasn’t unhappy until she told me she wanted a divorce. I don’t know what the hell she wants, or how to make her happy, and I’m confused.”

“Reason eleventy-zillion I don’t plan to get married any time soon.”

“All I ever wanted was hockey and a family,” Marty says thoughtfully. “Maybe that was the wrong thing to want.”

“Women are trouble. Even the good ones.”

“You’re just a grumpy fuck who’s never met a good one.”

Whatever.

I’m not going to argue with him about the virtues of relationships.

Or women, for that matter.

I enjoy them—in small doses.

Small, mostly naked doses.

Beyond that, I prefer the company of men.

As we’re talking, I casually scan the room, and my gaze lands on a beautiful and familiar brunette.

Now that’s a woman I could take in a few small but meaningful doses.

Wait. I know her.

Saylor Bonetti.

The ex-supermodel who now owns a local art gallery.

I went to the grand opening with some of my teammates, and it had been a good time, even if art isn’t really my thing.

Saylor, on the other hand, could totally be my thing.

For tonight.

Our eyes lock, and her face momentarily brightens as she gives me a little finger wave.

I lift my chin in response, wondering who she’s with.

The guy looks older than her and she’s way out of his league looks-wise.

That doesn’t mean anything in a place like L.A., though. Women dated rich, much-older men all the time.

But for some reason it disappoints me that Saylor is one of them.

She’s gorgeous and successful, so she has to have plenty of her own money.

Unless she blew it all on her gallery.

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