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After practice, Griff
sat on a bench in the locker room, wearing only a towel wrapped around his
waist. He pulled out his cell phone and sent a text to Lynn, his Los Angeles
girlfriend.
Flying in Thursday
night. You free Friday or Saturday?
“Texting that chick in
L.A. with the big tits?” Defenseman
Lance Corcoran sprayed deodorant under his arms as he spoke to the quarterback.
“Like that’s any of
your business.”
“Just wondering if she
has a friend. One who wears the same bra size.”
“Like I’d ever let a
normal girl near you, weirdo. Fuck off.”
“Keeping all the good
stuff to yourself?”
“She’s not ‘stuff’,
asshole.”
“Ask him in Minneapolis, Miami, Seattle or
Dallas. He’s got girls in every city,” Teammate Buddy Stoddard said.
“Impressive,
Montgomery.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Griff
finished dressing, combed his hair then headed for the parking lot.
He’d have a hot
night of good sex with Lynn, but that's all. She had
been getting too clingy. Lynn wasn’t his type. She was okay for a bed buddy,
but not a lifetime. A ding on his phone interrupted his thoughts.
How about both
nights?
He cringed. Could
he spend two nights listening to Lynn prattle on about clothes, movie stars and
gossip?
Fine. Pick a movie.
I’ll text you from the hotel.
He shut his phone.
A movie will keep her quiet. It’s been a
long time. As he drove
home, Griff admitted to himself that continuing his old lifestyle without his
family didn’t make sense. He needed more. He needed his own woman. Fulltime. In his
bed. In his kitchen. In his life. And he needed his own kids.
Feeling restless, Griff went for a run. As he rounded the
bend, he heard a noise. He slowed down to cool off and stopped when he heard
scratching and a whimper. There was a small dog at the back door of what
appeared to be an empty house. When Griff approached the property, the pug turned
and growled a warning.