Sidelined: A Wilde Players Dirty Romance by A.M. Hargrove, Terri E. Laine Page A

ache, but the only thing I feel is the crushing of my heart beneath my breastbone. And that is way worse than any injury I’ve ever sustained, on or off the field.
    My phone starts to ring, but I ignore it. There is no one I can think of that I care to talk to right now. Reasonable conversation isn’t in my capability. The only thing I want is to get home and drink myself into oblivion. I can’t understand why Cassidy would do that. Is being with me so distasteful that she would prefer her ex-husband? And if that’s the case, then what does that make me? Talk about a lethal blow to your self-esteem. Christ .
    When I pull into the long driveway, I’m already tasting the Jameson. Boomer and Brady act like I’ve been gone for a month. At least somebody loves me, and it sure as hell isn’t Cass. I let the pups out and head directly to my favorite place to pour myself one hell of a glassful.
    My phone rings again, and I ignore it. It’s not that I don’t want to talk. I can’t talk to anyone. This head fuck I’ve been delivered is too much for me to handle right now. I need to sort this out first. And I’m not sure if I ever will. Right now, the way I feel, if she wants the ex, fine. He can have her because I can’t and won’t deal with the wishy-washy shit.
    When the sun rises, I find myself in Dad’s recliner with an empty glass in my hand. Boomer and Brady are barking outside. I must’ve really gotten plastered to let them stay out all night. My head feels like a grenade exploded in it. What the hell was I thinking? When I stand up to let the dogs in, my phone tumbles to the floor. That’s when I notice all the missed calls. Sixteen to be exact. Most of them are from Gina. A couple of them are from Ryder. And one is from Cass. Why the hell would she even call? What in the world would she want with me?
    Checking my messages, I realize I need to tell them I’m okay. I text Gina and Ryder, but Cassie is another story. I’m not sure I can bring myself to talk to her. Leaving a message entails expectations that she doesn’t deserve. I can’t deal with what’s between us. I want something permanent, but if she doesn’t, then I need to go forward, forget her, and put all this behind me. This heartbreaking thing every other day is absurd. How can I get over her if I keep prolonging the moment? I gave myself such a false sense of hope all for nothing. Had I known she still may be interested in her ex, I never would have carried on like that.
    And when I think about the whole thing, it pisses me off. I should’ve gone back to Oklahoma like everyone wanted me to. But no. I stayed with the hopes of getting back with Cass, and look where it’s gotten me. Now I stand an excellent chance of getting canned, and I’ve lost the girl, too. Halle-fucking-lujah.
    My phone rings again, and I’m so damn annoyed I pick it up without looking at the caller ID.
    “What?”
    “Christ, Fletcher. Calm down.”
    It’s Gina. “Sorry.”
    “I’m calling to check on you,” she says.
    “I’m fine. You’ve checked.”
    “What happened?”
    “Maybe you need to ask Cass that,” I say.
    “I have, and she’s behaving like you. She won’t tell me a thing.”
    “I guess kissing her ex didn’t do it for her then.”
    “What the fuck are you saying?” she asks, sounding horrified.
    “Exactly what you think I’m saying.”
    “She was kissing Calvin? She hates that slime ball. Why would she do that?”
    “You’ll have to ask her. I’m not a mind reader. And seems to me if she didn’t want to kiss him, she wouldn’t have.”
    “Fletcher, there’s more to this. Trust me.”
    “Whatever. I’m done, Gina. I’m going back to Oklahoma as soon as my parents get home.”
    “Don’t you dare.” She sounds as though it’s an order.
    “Why the fuck not?”
    “What about all your talk of love?”
    A bitter laugh escapes me. “What love? All I’ve been hand delivered is pain, and I’ve had enough of that to last me a