Page 21 of Endgame

Laughter in the middle of an exhausted locker room is the last thing you’d expect to hear after the beating we endured. I turn to find King sprawled out on the massage table near our therapy offices. There’s a reason he’s got the best attitude on the team; he doesn’t take life too seriously and does whatever he wants without apologizing. Kingston “King” Baylor stands tall as the Striker’s shortstop. The guy has got to be six-seven on an off day; he’s not only a giant in the physical sense. He’s also a giant in matters of the heart.

The energy in the dugout was low last season after a devastating loss against the Titans. Leggins was even silent, and that sayseverythingif even he isn’t feeling hot-headed. Surprising us all, King sprinted out of the dugout, tugging his soaked-in-sweat undershirt off, and stripped down to nothing but his boxers and cleats. All heads in the dugout shot up instantaneously as “Get Your Freak On” by Missy Elliot started blasting out of the overhead stadium speakers.

Thankfully, the stands were cleared out already.

My body couldn't help but fling forward into overwhelming laughter at the sight of King running the bases in his Calvin Klein underwear, dropping to each base as he passed and humping the bags.

Pissy attitudes were long forgotten because the entire team was fleeing the dugout in their underwear and tackling the insane savage to the ground. The loss was nothing but a blip in the past. King’s ability to bring light to such a shitty night has now become a tradition for the team.

We are the Atlanta Boys, the ones to beat, on and off the field.

Tomorrow is Thursday,and our favorite club in Atlanta, Delta, features Ladies Night.

Clubbing is not my scene, but it gives me a chance to let loose, have fun with the guys, and possibly meet someone. I say meet someone because I don’t have time for fucking and forgetting. I’m a thirty-year-old bachelor who lives with his buddies and travels for work. Not that I see the traveling for work part changing anytime soon, I love my job, but I’d like the bachelor and roommate part to change sooner rather than later.

I may be in the minority for my age if Gus plays as an example, but I want to build a life with someone. I want the kids, the house, the dogs; I want it all. It’s not much to ask.

I’m being selective, and I won’t apologize for that.

If meeting Dakota the other day made me realize anything, it’s that my body is a live wire around that woman. It recognizes her and wants to get close to her. I’ve never had my dick ache so painfully from seeing her full and curvy bottom stretched thin in those jeans—men like me feed off attraction and it’s no secret that woman has it going on. But that’s the thing; when I’m around her, all I want to do is talk to her and ask mundane questions I shouldn’t care about, but I do.

Dakota is the entire package. She’s beautiful, but more than that, she’s smart and witty, traits similar to the ones my mother has. I guess it’s true that men are oftentimes drawn to women similar to their mothers. In this case, I’m not mad about it. I wish our situations were different, that’s all.

I can’t let myself go there, though. Attempting to start anything with her is bound to kill me. She’s still findingherself after survivingsomething, and that can’t end well for a man ready to meet a woman and give her his all.

Yet, she’s bitter with an edge, and I find it oddly captivating. However, she’s got a lot to figure out within herself. As much as I’d love to throw caution to the wind and base my decisions on my personal intrigue, she isn’t ready for that.

It’s in my best interest not to lose sight under her alluring spell.

Meeting someone and getting this raging set of blue balls taken care of could set me straight and get the stubborn little vixen out of my head—but, unfortunately, that’s no longer my style. My playboy ways are in my past.

I’ve got plans. And I’m not willing to change them.

But a fun night with the guys sounds like a good time.

I send a text to confirm we’re still on.

Cal:Ladies' Night at Club Delta tomorrow. 8 PM. You in?

King:Say less, brother.

Bodhi:Fine. I’m only staying an hour tho. Don’t push me on it.

Gus:Time to get hammered! Tequila and titties boys. It's a lethal combination.

Mack:I’ll be DD for you girls. Don’t trust you to tuck yourselves into bed at a decent hour. Friday’s scrimmage is a big deal. See u tomorrow at 8.

10

DAKOTA

Cookies.

Coffee.

Diet Coke.

Tampons.

---