Page 6 of The Purest Fake
“I’m a rookie on the team, so this is a make-it-or-break-it year for me. I can’t afford any distractions, and my schedule is crazy anyway.”
Picking up my glass, I point my chin toward his beer and say, “Let’s toast.” His large hand wraps around the bottle and he raises it. “To being single and focusing on our careers,” I say. He clinks against my glass and then we both drink.
It’s kind of comforting knowing I’m not the only one who’s happy alone.
CHAPTER 2
COOPER
The soles of my sneakers pound against the pavement with a staccato rhythm on my morning run. Since it’s the Monday after the game, I’m supposed to be taking advantage of the opportunity to rest my body, but I’m too keyed up after the win.
Nothing will ever beat the thrill I feel when scoring a touchdown, especially as a pro. Each time I cross the goal line, the euphoric feeling only seems to intensify. By the end of our season, I feel like I might actually explode into tiny pieces and rain down on the end zone like confetti.
I love almost everything about being a football player, but there are a few drawbacks to playing at the professional level. Especially being on a team located in a state far from where I grew up. My parents can’t attend every home game like I wish they could. But they were able to be at the season opener to see me in my first professional game. I loved having them there, along with my twin sister, Cassie. I wish they could’ve been there yesterday too, but we spoke on the phone last night and they told me how proud I made them. My father got choked up when he spoke about my touchdowns. I can’t ask for more than that.
The other drawback to playing pro ball is the grueling schedule we keep. It’s not only the early training sessions and long days spent on the field and in the weight room—not to mention all the film we need to watch. It’s the number of social engagements we’re required to attend, when all I want to do is chill at home. Then there’s the female attention that seems to go hand in hand with my sport. I like women but Ilovefootball, and I won’t let anything jeopardize my career.
I round the corner of my street, settling into a fast walk for the remaining distance. When I reach my house, I slow my pace further, continuing up and down my driveway numerous times to cool down. I raise the front of my t-shirt, swiping it over my damp face before entering the side door.
“What’s up, baby bro?” Cassie asks. She loves to remind me she was born two minutes earlier than me.
“Figured I’d get a run in early.”
“Have you ever heard of sleeping in on your day off?” she teases.
“You know I’ve always been an early riser.”
“Yep. You’re one of those annoying people who doesn’t need much sleep. I wish I’d gotten that gene.”
“What’s that amazing smell?”
She smiles. “I made you some delicious high-protein muffins.”
Normally I’d be skeptical of high-protein baked goods, but my sister is a genius when it comes to baking. “This is why I let you live with me.”
She snorts. “Yeah, it doesn’t have anything to do with having a built-in housekeeper and all the sage advice I provide.”
“Well, that too.” I laugh. Wandering over to the fridge, I grab two waters and then snatch a muffin from the tray before I sit down at the island. Twisting the cap off one of the bottles, I guzzle the entire thing without stopping.
“You should drink while you’re running,” Cassie suggests.
“I’m not carrying a bottle for five miles.”
She rolls her eyes and doesn’t say anything else while I break apart the muffin. I like to save the top for last. I take a piece from the bottom and pop it into my mouth. The first taste has me humming and nodding. It’s still warm from the oven, and packed with fresh blueberries.
“This is amazing. I can’t even tell it’s loaded with protein.”
She smiles. “I know.”
“You should sell these. On second thought, no, you shouldn’t. They’re all mine.”
“I’m gonna freeze some so they last.”
“Don’t do that. I’ll have them gone in three days’ time.”
“I made a dozen.”
“Okay, four days, then.”
