Page 65 of Playing Hard to Hate
Can I see youtomorrow?
Tatum
Busy.
Griffin
Who pissed in your Cheerios?
Tatum
I don’t like Cheerios…
Griffin
What changed between last night and this morning?
Tate
I said no Griffin.
Griffin
If you don’t wanna see my face again, just say so…
Tatum
I can’t say no when I’m around you.
Griffin
So you’re saying if I show up at your condo right now to kiss you, you won’t say no?
Tatum
I have to go. Bye, Griffin.
“Yo, lover boy, you done over there? We have a game to play,” Dexter mocked, gaining my attention as everyone laughed. I looked up from my phone and saw everyone in the locker room was huddled together discussing strategy, and I was in the corner on my fucking phone.
This fucking woman was driving me absolutely insane.
She was messing with my head. She had consumed just about every thought. Her voice soft like a piano, playing me to the core. Touch like Novocaine, numbing my wounds, and fuck was she pretty. Like the only standing flower in a never-ending desert of sand. Problem was, I couldn’t let her ruin my career.
“Trouble in paradise?” Dexter chuckled, as did a few others in the room, the ones who had wives or girlfriends.
“Fuck off.”
“Oh, there’s trouble all right,” one of my teammates said, and the room erupted in laughter again. I threw my phone in my locker, grabbed my hat, put it on, and joined the team in the corner around the whiteboard Coach and Dexter were standing around.
“Need you to focus, Silver. This is the first game of the playoffs. I need everyone’s head in the fucking game.” Jaxon Dexter grabbed me by the shoulder and tugged my uniform a bit to get my attention. And fuck, he had it.
I pushed Tatum all the way out of my goddamn head. I had waited years for this moment. We had the luck of the draw this round, getting to play in our home stadium, but our competitors weren’t a joke either. The New York Navigators were fierce and notorious for playing dirty. Somehow, they hadn’t ever been caught by any of the referees, probably because it was rumored that the team owner had most of the refs in his pocket.
Before I knew it, Dexter was ending the meeting, and we were heading out to the dugout. We lined up just as the national anthem started. They gave a local the opportunity to sing at every game, and each time I was always amazed at the talent that surrounded us.
“Need you to focus, man,” Hunter grumbled beside me under his breath just as the singing finished, announcing the start of the game.
“Never been more focused.” I shouldered him as I ran past, getting into position.
