going to be down the road. Don't do it to yourself, man. It's totally not worth it."
"But I want to do the best I can for the team, you know? I don't want to let anyone down."
Luke had heard that line before on other days, around other teams. Combined with that revolting thing he'd just seen in the executive box it made his gut clench, so maybe his answer came out a little less diplomatic than he'd have chosen. "Listen, you got picked for this team because you have the skills to be on it. You just do the best you can, you train hard, you play hard, and no one is going to be disappointed. You've got to think about all of your life. Not just this one moment of it, and don't listen to idiots who won't have to live with the aftereffects like you will."
"Okay, well, I hear you. I mean yeah, that's a good point."
Luke knew from the way Carlos spoke the young man wasn't convinced. He took a deep breath, then let it go. As passionately as he believed what he'd just said, Carlos was a grown man and he'd make his own choices. Drug-taking was rife in the industry and if a player wanted the stuff he could have it, no questions asked. Stamping and screaming about it, being a zealot, was a quick road to being ignored on the subject altogether, or shut out completely.
He broke into a jog, heading towards the end of the field, to the changing rooms, Carlos close enough behind to hear his breath, and the thump of his shoes hitting grass. They caught up with Big Joe still walking. The man could move quick when he wanted, but most of the time he was slow as syrup. That's how he could take the opposition by surprise the way he did. Then bam , he'd run right over them.
"Hey Joe, you seen that?" asked Carlos, dropping to a walk. He flicked his thumb over his shoulder towards the box, behind them now. Luke slowed too, unusually ready to listen to the gossip. Joe took one look where Carlos was pointing then shrugged.
"Yeah," he said, dispirited. "Mr King gave Mrs King the heave-ho. Got himself a newer model."
Luke suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. "What?"
"He was introducing that one around yesterday. His girlfriend. Everyone was being all polite and then Mrs Otis says nastylike: 'And your wife , Mr King?’ And Mr King doesn't like that and he just squints at her like this and says 'I've called it quits.' Mrs Otis she walks away like he's not even worth talking to anymore."
"So you're sure it was him that left her ?"
"Well look at him. It's been less than a week since Mrs K was here with him and everything was cool. Now it's the girlfriend. If it was Mrs K who'd pulled the plug he'd be moping around. Not sticking it in some twenty-year-old he's probably been banging for who knows how long."
Carlos looked as sick as Luke felt. "Poor Mrs King," he said softly.
Aw, hell.
Hell!
She hadn't been cheating on her husband. She'd been trying to get over her cheating husband. And she'd picked him to do it with.
What had he done? Turned her down, that's what.
Idiot !
When he would have given anything, damn near anything for a solid chance to woo her, he'd gone and messed it up in the worst way possible.
She hadn't seemed mad at him. She'd looked perfectly friendly, but the churning in his stomach echoed the dread on his mind. No woman liked to feel rejected. Not for any reason.
She sure hadn't stuck around after that. Friendly or not, she was gone the next instant.
Instinct told him he'd completely screwed it up.
His fingers were jammed into his hair, clutching it so hard they were nearly pulling it out by the roots. He could have groaned out loud. Would have, if he'd been alone. He clenched his teeth around the sound of pure, unadulterated, aching frustration.
So close. He'd had her.
She was the star of every fantasy he'd had in the past year, more, since he'd first met her. Every half-remembered dream that had woken him from sleep, hard and reaching out for someone who wasn't there. Her , not there, and him cursing himself for
"But I want to do the best I can for the team, you know? I don't want to let anyone down."
Luke had heard that line before on other days, around other teams. Combined with that revolting thing he'd just seen in the executive box it made his gut clench, so maybe his answer came out a little less diplomatic than he'd have chosen. "Listen, you got picked for this team because you have the skills to be on it. You just do the best you can, you train hard, you play hard, and no one is going to be disappointed. You've got to think about all of your life. Not just this one moment of it, and don't listen to idiots who won't have to live with the aftereffects like you will."
"Okay, well, I hear you. I mean yeah, that's a good point."
Luke knew from the way Carlos spoke the young man wasn't convinced. He took a deep breath, then let it go. As passionately as he believed what he'd just said, Carlos was a grown man and he'd make his own choices. Drug-taking was rife in the industry and if a player wanted the stuff he could have it, no questions asked. Stamping and screaming about it, being a zealot, was a quick road to being ignored on the subject altogether, or shut out completely.
He broke into a jog, heading towards the end of the field, to the changing rooms, Carlos close enough behind to hear his breath, and the thump of his shoes hitting grass. They caught up with Big Joe still walking. The man could move quick when he wanted, but most of the time he was slow as syrup. That's how he could take the opposition by surprise the way he did. Then bam , he'd run right over them.
"Hey Joe, you seen that?" asked Carlos, dropping to a walk. He flicked his thumb over his shoulder towards the box, behind them now. Luke slowed too, unusually ready to listen to the gossip. Joe took one look where Carlos was pointing then shrugged.
"Yeah," he said, dispirited. "Mr King gave Mrs King the heave-ho. Got himself a newer model."
Luke suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. "What?"
"He was introducing that one around yesterday. His girlfriend. Everyone was being all polite and then Mrs Otis says nastylike: 'And your wife , Mr King?’ And Mr King doesn't like that and he just squints at her like this and says 'I've called it quits.' Mrs Otis she walks away like he's not even worth talking to anymore."
"So you're sure it was him that left her ?"
"Well look at him. It's been less than a week since Mrs K was here with him and everything was cool. Now it's the girlfriend. If it was Mrs K who'd pulled the plug he'd be moping around. Not sticking it in some twenty-year-old he's probably been banging for who knows how long."
Carlos looked as sick as Luke felt. "Poor Mrs King," he said softly.
Aw, hell.
Hell!
She hadn't been cheating on her husband. She'd been trying to get over her cheating husband. And she'd picked him to do it with.
What had he done? Turned her down, that's what.
Idiot !
When he would have given anything, damn near anything for a solid chance to woo her, he'd gone and messed it up in the worst way possible.
She hadn't seemed mad at him. She'd looked perfectly friendly, but the churning in his stomach echoed the dread on his mind. No woman liked to feel rejected. Not for any reason.
She sure hadn't stuck around after that. Friendly or not, she was gone the next instant.
Instinct told him he'd completely screwed it up.
His fingers were jammed into his hair, clutching it so hard they were nearly pulling it out by the roots. He could have groaned out loud. Would have, if he'd been alone. He clenched his teeth around the sound of pure, unadulterated, aching frustration.
So close. He'd had her.
She was the star of every fantasy he'd had in the past year, more, since he'd first met her. Every half-remembered dream that had woken him from sleep, hard and reaching out for someone who wasn't there. Her , not there, and him cursing himself for
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