Page 77 of The Game Plan

And of course, war stories. How we’ve manned up in the face of pain and adversity and made spectacular plays, which are alwaysten times more impressive in the retelling, as if we don’t all watch Sports Center highlights and know when one of us is lyingout of his ass.

By the time the waiter slides a dessert that consists of chocolate in five different forms in front of me, I’m almost normalagain.

Johnson scowls at his plate. “It’s so tiny. Everything here is tiny.”

“It’s gourmet,” Rolondo says, picking up his spoon.

“Who picked this place, anyway?” Johnson complains.

“I did.” I slide a spoonful of dark chocolate mousse into my mouth and almost groan. Damn. Fi needs to come here with me.And like that, I’m missing her again. I ignore the emotion and glare at my guys. “It’s delicious. Order another one if you’restill hungry.”

Rolondo laughs and eats while Johnson mutters about me being some sort of metrosexual.

“Lumbersexual,” I counter, getting a look of horror from Johnson. I shrug. “That’s what Fi says, anyway.”

“Why would she say you like having sex with lumberjacks?” Johnson asks with a confused frown.

Rolondo throws a napkin at his head. “Man, you don’t know jack about jack.”

“Lumberjacks?”

We all groan.

Except Drew, who doesn’t say a word. He hasn’t even noticed his dessert. He’s way too fidgety and practically glued to hisphone screen, which isn’t like him.

“Why do you keep looking at your phone?” I ask him. “Shit, is there more bad press? Am I now up for grabs for both sexes?”

“I’d do you,” Rolondo puts in with a grin.

“You’re too high-maintenance for me.”

“This is true.” ’Londo nods and looks me over. “I’d most definitely make you shave that beard. I’m not into bears.”

I shrug. “We were never meant to be.”

Johnson rolls his eyes. “I don’t care if I sound like a dick. This whole exchange is bizarre.”

“You always sound like a dick,” Rolondo says. “We’re used to it.”

He ducks a chunk of bread Johnson pings at him. An older couple across the way turns to stare.

“Ladies,” I say mildly, “mind your manners. This isn’t the college bar.”

“Yes, Mom.” Johnson sits back and looks around. “Why is it that we aren’t in a bar? I mean, yeah, we got money now. But thisplace is making my shoulders itch.”

“I’m checking the place out,” I tell them. “It’s for sale, and Gray, Drew and I are thinking about investing in restaurants.”

“Seriously?” Johnson looks surprised.

“We need something to fall back on. We aren’t going to play forever.”

Since the three of us love to eat, we thought about the restaurant business. Gray and Drew have been looking at places onthe west and east coasts, respectively.

I glance at Drew. “If a certain QB would get his face out of his phone and taste the food, it would be much easier to do.”

Drew lifts his head. “The atmosphere is a little staid, but the food is good, and the place is packed.”

“Agreed,” I say. “It always is, but I’d make changes.”

---