Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
9
Hunter
Eighteen months later.
“Hey Hunter, what brings you back?”
I turned on my heels and flashed a smile.
“Avery, my man, what’s going on? Long time no see,” I said shaking Avery’s hand as he pulled me into a man hug.
“What’s going on? The Jets kick you out or something?” Avery asked as we walked down the street. Glancing around the small downtown, I couldn’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia looking around at my old stomping grounds. Mesa appeared the same, and yet it was different too. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe it was the sparkle of the sidewalks, or the slightly different décor in many of the shops. I shook my head and grinned at my friend.
“You wish,” I said as a group of girls passed by giggling. Stopping in my tracks, I followed them with my eyes. The furthest girl on the right looked so familiar that it almost broke my heart. Her round face and lush body threw me for a loop.
But it wasn’t Catherine, and I shook myself out of my reverie.
“So, why are you back?” Avery asked, clapping my shoulder. Shaking my head, I glanced at him wryly.
“Believe or not, I’m the commencement speaker this year.”
My friend starts hooting and hollering with mirth.
“Are you fucking serious? You? Hunter Brody? But you never even graduated!”
I waggle my eyebrows.
“Yeah, I know. But I guess being in the NFL elevates you to the appropriate level.”
“Tell me about it,” Avery said, chuckling. “You bounced out of here so fast no one knew what happened until it came out in the news. Please tell me you’ve got one of those cheerleaders on your arm every night.”
My eyes drop because I’m not interested in skinny cheerleaders in the least. Instead, my heart belongs to a girl I left here, and I’m hoping to meet up with her while I’m here. I’ve been unable to get Catherine out of my head for over a year now, and my heart lurches when I think of the curvy girl. What if she doesn’t want to see me? What if she’s dating someone else now?
My heart starts pounding, but I force myself to calm down. Anything can happen in eighteen months. Maybe Catherine is dating someone else, and I have to be happy for her. After all, I basically left town without a trace. I got called by the Jets the night after Catherine and I made love, and I had to get on a plane within a few hours. A guy had been injured, and I needed to fill in for him immediately.
As a result, I left Mesa behind and haven’t been back for eighteen months. Instead, movers were hired to pack up my stuff and ship it to me, and I’ve been living in New York ever since. But still, I’ve been thinking a lot about Catherine Lauder. What has she been up to? The night we shared was magical, and I want to re-kindle that connection if possible.
Avery’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Come on, tell me what the girls are like in New York. You’re a pro football player. There must be dames on your arm all the time,” he snickered. There was no denying the fact he wanted all the details of being a football star. Truth be told, I wanted it too at one point, but now, all of that was past me. I wasn’t interested in the celebrity life. I just wanted to be with one particular girl.
“Let me tell you this much: the girls in New York can be fake. From their hair extensions down to the plastic surgery they get on their feet. You can’t take them at face value.”
Avery gawks.
“Really? Plastic surgery on their feet?”
I shrug.
“A lot of them wear high heels non-stop and it contorts their soles, sometimes permanently. Their feet are disgusting and shriveled, so they get plastic surgery to fix it up.”
“Holy shit,” breathes Avery.
“Yeah.”
But then my friend brightens.
“Well, isn’t that their appeal though? If they’re willing to get plastic surgery on their feet, then they must be willing to get it everywhere,” Avery hints. I just shake my head and pull in a deep breath.
“Yeah, some guys like that, but not me. I don’t want a woman’s breasts to be flotation devices. I like them natural.” A pang nudged my heart as I wondered what Catherine was up to these days. Did she even remember me?
But then Avery guffaws again.
“I’m sorry to tell you, but your ex-girlfriend was never natural. Neither then or now.”
I stare at him.
“Why, what has Angela done?”
Avery gets a weird look on his face.
“Word on the street is that Angela met some guy who wants to prime her for a career in porn. He fed her a sweet bag of lies, and Angela’s gotten a lot of work done in preparation. You know: tits, thighs, nose job, the works. I haven’t seen it, but I hear it looks really bad.”