The Girlfriend Game by Sierra Hill
Seventeen
Zeke
“Dude, you are so busted! I knew you were ghosting me. Asshole.”
I open the door to my condo to find Carver standing in the hallway with a stupid grin on his face, long arms extended overhead as he casually looms large in my doorway.
“What the hell are you doing here? Why aren’t you in Europe with Logan?” My voice sounds alarmed, but the smile he produces assures me nothing is amiss. Except for the fact that he should be abroad on his summer vacation through August. And it’s only late June. After we lost the Western conference playoffs and were eliminated from play, most of the guys on the team took off on their summer adventure. Carver surprised Logan with a two-month European tour.
He drops his arms and furtively glances each way down the hallway before nodding with his chin toward my living room in the background behind me.
“I’ve been trying to call you for days. You never return my calls, so here I am.” He pushes past me as I step back to allow him entrance.
“By all means, make yourself at home.” I throw my arm out wide with a hint of sarcasm in my tone.
Carver strides in like he owns the place, chuckling and stopping unexpectedly, doing a quick about-face. He stares at me with wide-eyed uncontrollable excitement. Like he just won the lottery and is bursting at the seams to tell someone.
“Logan’s pregnant.”
Well, not the lottery but something they’ve been hoping for since I’ve known him.
I step back, worried he just might throw himself into my arms.
“Whoa, that’s…” I stammer, my voice trailing off with an uncertainty of what to say to express my happiness over his good news. I know this won’t technically be their first child together, but the first one, a son, was given up for adoption because they were just teenagers at the time. “That’s cool, bro. Congrats. Glad the little swimmers did the job.”
Carver beams with pride as we fist bump and hug it out. I thump him on the back with a fist before we quickly pull away.
“Damn straight they did their job,” he boasts arrogantly. “It was all about timing.”
“I didn’t know you guys had been trying. I mean, I thought Logan was busy opening her own dental practice. How did it happen?”
He chuckles with a wink, his eyes flashing juvenile humor. “Dude, if you don’t know how it happens, we need to have a different conversation altogether.”
“Very funny, idiot.” I flip him off and turn toward the kitchen to get us something to drink. “I know how a baby is made, you asswipe. I just thought you guys were waiting until Logan got everything squared away.”
His wife recently finished dental school with plans of opening her own practice in Seattle, but it had been a debate for several years, as being married to someone in the league can uproot you at any given moment with trades or free agency. Having a family and roots in one community is great, but can be too easily upended when and if a player gets traded. So far, Carver’s been lucky to remain with the Pilots since he was drafted and doesn’t have any plans of leaving his hometown.
Swinging around the corner of the kitchen, I open the fridge door and hesitate, realizing I’d normally offer my friend a beer, but because I’m sober this summer, all I have are water and sports drinks. And milk. Gallons and gallons of milk.
I extract two waters and turn around to find Carver sitting at one of the bar stools, using his elbows to prop up his chin. I slide the bottle in front of him and he twists off the top and takes a swig before sharing the story.
“She was…I mean, she is still planning on starting her practice. In fact, prior to our trip, Logan had been working on getting her license and state board exams taken care of. We’d worked with an agent and found a great location to lease in Fremont, but never signed the agreement because I surprised her with Europe.” He pauses and takes another drink, lifting his brow mischievously.
“So, there we were, sipping cocktails on a sailboat in Croatia, living our best life, when she realized that through all the chaos and work, she hadn’t had her period last month. Or the month before. So, the minute we got back to land, Logan bought one of those pee stick kits.” He cringes. “Good thing those pregnancy tests are universally identifiable with the pink lines because neither one of us speak the language.”
“Good thing,” I mimic, having no idea what one looks like.
Carver raises his bottle in the air with a smirk. “Double pink lines it was. So, we decided to return early so she could see her own OB/Gyn.”
I’m dying to ask the question, but the words get trapped in my throat. “Wow, congrats, man. A kid on the way.”
I nervously pick at the label on the bottle. “That’s like some grown-up shit. I don’t know what the hell I’d do if I found out I was going to be a father. It’s a little terrifying, right?”
Carver shrugs, clearly unfazed over the prospect and not at all sharing the same lack of confidence that I’d have in that situation. I guess it only makes sense since technically he is already a dad, in a rather unconventional way. Their son, Jeremy, was given up for adoption right after his birth eight years ago. Through a series of unfortunate events, Carver wasn’t even aware he had a son until he moved back to Seattle and got back together with Logan.
The beauty of it is that it all worked out in the end. Jeremy’s adoptive parents were very receptive to including Logan and Carver in their son’s life as family friends. Which is pretty fucking fantastic that they can have a relationship with him and watch him grow. But it makes me wonder what will happen as Jeremy gets older and he finds out he was adopted. Will his parents tell him that Carver and Logan are his biological parents? And when the kid does find out, how will he feel when he learns his birth parents have a new family?
Family, in my opinion, creates too much drama.
It’s things like this that send my brain into anxiety-ridden overdrive. I pick at something obsessively until I can no longer focus on anything else. And when that happens, anything can trigger an episode and panic attack, sending me on a tailspin and landing me on my ass. Even something like this, that has absolutely zero to do with me, can cause me to hyperventilate.
Come to think of it, though, I haven’t had any triggered freak-out episodes in a few weeks. I realized that this morning while in the shower after my workout that working with Kendall, the right meds, writing in my journal, and using the tools she’s provided have done wonders for my mood.
Unfortunately, the thought of Kendall brings on a fresh wave of melancholy and a twinge of hopelessness, remembering where things left off with us last weekend. After spending the day with her and getting to know her more personally, feeling the incredible chemistry we shared, along with the intensity of the kiss, had me wondering if there was anything I could do to change her mind.
I know it’s a moot point. I’ll let things cool off and try again when I return from Atlanta. No sense making a fool of myself and get fresh rejection all over again in less than a week.
That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about how sexy she looked when she jumped from that pole and the way her smile took over her face with wonderment and excitement. The way her perfect soft lips molded together with mine, and the glide of her tongue inside my mouth.
My body reacts to the awareness of my memories, my dick growing hard in my track shorts. Not the best time to get a boner when you’re talking to a friend about his wife’s pregnancy.
“Logan and I are ecstatic over being pregnant. The only thing I’m worried about is what happens when the season begins again in October and I’m out on the fucking road more than I’m home.” He frowns dolefully.
I bend over the counter, extending my arm to give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
“I’m sure the joys will outweigh the sorrows, bro.”
“Well, damn, man. That’s some poetically optimistic shit you’re spouting. Dr. Rush must be giving you some great advice. You seem…good.”
I glance down toward my now semi-hard cock. She’s giving me something, all right.
“What can I say? I’m the best at everything. Basketball. Therapy. I’ve got it all going on in one perfect package.” I stretch my arms out wide and slam my palms down theatrically. “Boom.”
His head jerks back with laughter. “Jesus, Zeke. You are so fucking cocky.”
“I sense your jealousy, bro. I understand how inferior you must feel next to me.”
We laugh some more and by the time he leaves, I realize how lucky I am to have friends like Carver, someone who really cares for me outside of just being a teammate. Although we didn’t delve too deeply—because guys don’t do that—the laughing and bullshitting with Carver today gave me a real mental boost I didn’t realize I needed. It filled me with a therapeutic and euphoric high that I hope I can take with me as I head to Atlanta for the kids’ camp. These kids have their own challenges. They don’t need me raining on their parade. My job while I’m there is to teach some basketball techniques, make it fun for the kids, and most importantly, as Kendall has instilled in me through my therapy, learn to do something for others without any expectation of having it returned.
“Helping others is a basic function of human kindness. It sets our intentions on someone else’s problems, removing our energy and focus from our own,” Kendall said one day when we were working at the homeless shelter down the street from her practice. “When you can set aside your own needs, even for a few moments, it allows room for hope to grow.”
Kendall is the most intelligent and remarkable woman I’ve ever met. She’s taught me so much about myself and others. Yet, here I am, still holding out hope the space between us is enough to convince her to give us a try.
I check my phone for the thousandth time since our date. I have no idea what she’s thinking or where she stands. After I told her she was fired as my therapist, she laughed regretfully and informed me it wasn’t that simple. Even if I was no longer her patient, there were still rules and stipulations over seeing former clients, too.
She left the park in an Uber as I promised I’d give her time and space and wouldn’t pester her. The problem with that decision is I’m not a very patient man. When I know what I want, I want it now.
And I know without a single shred of doubt that I want Kendall Rush.