Page 50 of The Player's Club

I shook my head. Marriage had never been in the cards for me. Hell, a regular, monogamous relationship had never been either.

You could sign a contract for a sexual relationship that had clauses for when to end things. You could control what you both could do and what you both couldn’t do.

No messy feelings were involved. Just sex and business. But actual romantic relationships? Those were the opposite of staying in control. You just had to trust that the other person wouldn’t fuck you up completely. As soon as the heart got involved, well, that was dangerous territory.

“I’m fine with what I’m doing now,” I said.

Brady didn’t look convinced, but our conversation was cut short when another player came into the locker room. Brady then tried to get me to ask Elodie for Hannah’s number, but I told him to go to hell. He was going to have to figure that one out on his own.I was no damn matchmaker.

When I arrived home later that afternoon, I was surprised to see my mom calling me. Since that didn’t happen very often, a feeling of dread hit me right in the stomach.

When I picked up, her words stopped me in my tracks.

“Mac, hi.”

“Hey, Mom. What’s going on?”

She sighed loudly. “I’m calling to give you some news.”

I froze. Did something happen to my father? “What news?”

“Well, there’s no easy way to say this, so I suppose I’ll just say it. Caroline Bradford has pancreatic cancer. She’s dying, Mac.”

Caroline Bradford. The woman who’d changed the course of my life, for better or for worse. The woman who’d taught me everything I knew. The first woman I’d ever loved. The reason I’d probably never go down the love path again. There were too many memories to count. And too many memories I’d wanted to bury when it came to her.

Caro. I sat in my living room, staring at the glass of whiskey I’d poured hours ago, unable to sleep.Caro is dying.

My mom had explained that Caroline was in the hospital and had been given only a few months to live. It’s stage 4. I’m sorry, Mac.

Then I’d heard Dad in the background, and the call had ended. It upset me that he might’ve actually derived some pleasure from this. He wouldn’t have wanted Mom to talk to me about Caroline. To be honest, I was still in shock she’d even called me to let me know in the first place. The last time my parents had spoken Caroline’s name, we’d had our worst fight ever. That was the day I ended up leaving home.

I almost resented Mom for telling me about Caroline. But that wasn’t fair. She was just trying to be . . . I didn’t even know. Helpful? Understanding? Compassionate?

I finished off my whiskey and considered going upstairs to bed. But I wasn’t tired. Despite the alcohol in my veins, I was awake.

Too awake.

Would Elodie pick up if I called? I stared at my phone screen as if it would tell me the answer.

But if I called her right now, I’d have to tell her why. Did I expect her to understand what’d happened between me and Caroline Bradford?

The mere thought made me shudder. She’d start to read into it and draw the wrong conclusions. Or maybe they’d be the right conclusions. All I knew was that I’d had enough to deal with when my parents found out. Although Elodie had been nothing but understanding since we’d met, I didn’t want to give her a reason to run either.

I needed a distraction.

The Scarlet Rope was as busy as ever when I arrived. When the cab driver dropped me off a block away, he’d given me a confused look. There wasn’t anything open nearby, given that it was already two o’clock in the morning.

“You sure this is the right place?” he’d asked me.

I smiled wryly. “I’m sure. Thanks for the ride.”

The club, with its sights, sounds, and smells, brought a wave of blessed relief to my senses. I nodded at a few women I recognized. Delilah sat at the bar like she often did with a group of men surrounding her like a queen with her subjects. She raised an eyebrow as I passed by, which I took as an invitation.

“I haven’t seen you here on a Wednesday night in years,” she remarked. “Or I guess it’s Thursday morning, isn’t it?”

“I’ve lost track,” I admitted.

One guy close to Delilah’s elbow looked irritated when I sat near her. Delilah gave him a look that said, Don’t push your luck.