6. Luke

6

LUKE

M y interaction with Brett earlier in the day had left me reeling.

I was so frustrated that I’d started to consider relocating to a different house. Sure, I had already paid a deposit—and the entirety of the three month’s rent upfront on the beach house. But there was no way in hell I could spend an entire summer next to someone who hated me so much.

Someone whom I hated too.

Well… sort of.

Hate was a strong word. But I couldn’t think of a better one.

As I stood on my patio facing the ocean, I picked up the barbell and lifted it again.

I’d spent the better part of an hour trying to workout, contorting, and stretching my body in an effort to deviate my thoughts. Anything I could do to take my mind off Brett. That was the exasperating thing about him, he had a way of creeping into my head and refusing to vacate.

Brett had some indiscernible quality that irked me beyond even my own understanding.

I knew the solution: lift weights, don’t think about it.

So, I lifted.

One… two… three…

I counted as I raised the barbell into the air.

But quickly my mind wandered back to Brett.

Ten… eleven…

If I performed enough repetitions, I knew I’d erase him from my mind.

Sixteen…

Still not working.

I abruptly dropped the barbell on the ground which caused a loud thud. Quickly looking over my shoulder, I checked to make sure that Brett hadn’t overheard. I wasn’t sure if he was home. I’d spent the past hour forcing myself not to look into his windows. It was an almost impossible task, considering that we were mere feet from each other.

The sound of crashing waves had done nothing to quell my internal turmoil and my curiosity about what Brett was up to.

Was he writing another piece about me?

Recording another podcast?

I needed to get this man out of my head. Or at the very least figure out why Brett had set up shop in the recesses of my mind.

Ten million dollars , I thought, reflecting on the money I’d lost when I was pulled from consideration for the Monarch Watch sponsorship.

Oh, right. That.

In my defense, it was a vast sum of cash—enough to change most people’s lives. I had every right to be angry. Pissed.

Infuriated.

Anyone else would be too.

It didn’t matter how much I’d already made in my career. I was entitled to earn a living on my own, without interference from some no-good podcaster.

But deep in the back of my mind, I could feel a tingling sensation poking at me, reminding me that there was something else going on.

I had to confront the truth: Brett had seized my attention, and my fixation with him had started to alarm me.

As much as I hated him—loathed him, in fact—he had become a presence in my mind unlike any other pundit I had ever experienced. Sure, if I were to account for the fact that he was my new neighbor, that would explain part of my fury. But I knew it was bigger than that.

My mind started to wander as I picked up the barbell again.

Eighteen…

Or was that seventeen?

Fuck!

I’d lost count of my reps. A recurring theme had started to emerge: Brett had captivated me, and I needed to discover why.

Truth be told, I’d been single for a very long time. Not for lack of offers. When you’re a famous athlete, they tend to throw themselves at you, but at a certain point, you have to wonder who’s interested in you for who you are, versus cash and fame.

And there was no way for me to avoid it. Paparazzi followed my every move, documenting every car I purchased, every trip I took, every store I shopped at.

I had no privacy and no ability to go out to a bar and meet a total stranger. For years I had longed for the kind of romance only found in old Hollywood movies. Someone who had no idea who I was—meeting me in a twist of fate one day, by total happenstance.

Serendipity.

But I was fairly certain that wasn’t in the cards for me. Fame had wrecked my opportunity to find a true spark, a meaningful connection. I’d never meet a stranger, everyone recognized me instantly, and it was hard to discern the true intentions of anyone I met.

Still, I couldn’t figure out what my fury over Brett had to do with me being single.

The two were unrelated, weren’t they?

He was an asshole who earned a living publicly slandering me, and I was the guy who was supposed to stay silent and simply tolerate it.

Before I could give it another ounce of thought, I noticed someone dragging a large contraption onto the beach. Leonard was lugging something toward the water. At first, I couldn’t tell what it was.

Then, it dawned on me: it was a telescope.

A very large, unusual-looking telescope with exaggerated lenses and flashing lights. Leonard was laser-focused on it.

At first, I was amused by his antics, but that amusement shifted into pure frustration in a split second.

Couldn’t I have a moment of peace in this overpriced house? Why couldn’t I just exercise without a peculiar neighbor bothering me?

I decided Leonard and I needed to have a talk about his various hobbies. Even if it didn’t get him to respect my privacy, it would give me a chance to let off some steam.

Seconds later, I was on the beach trudging through the sand toward him.

“Lance!” he shouted across the beach as I approached.

That’s not my name.

“Good to see you!” he added. “What do you think? It’s the Galactic Gazer 3000!”

I paused. “The what ?”

Leonard grinned. “Also known as The Sky Snoop Supreme.”

Okay, is this guy screwing with me?

There was a hint of humor in the way Leonard spoke which revealed an underlying internal acknowledgment that maybe—just maybe —Leonard was aware of how silly he often appeared.

Like a joke that only he was in on. I had to admit, I kind of respected it. He had spent a lifetime earning a fortune, and now his only desire was to spend his days on the beach, playing with new contraptions and devices.

The man was a legend.

I could only hope the same for myself in old age. I wanted to get to a place where I didn’t give a damn what people thought of me and my career. Especially Brett Mercer. I needed to find a way to control my thoughts about him and force him out of my mind. I had spent my entire life creating my own destiny and being disciplined, especially since making it big in the NFL years ago. I needed to apply that same discipline to this. There had to be a way to get Brett out of my head.

I had approached Leonard to tell him to knock it off, but I couldn’t be mad at him. He was living his best life. All the while, I was sitting around stewing over Brett, ignoring the beauty of the ocean and the beach surrounding me. Working out, lifting weights, all in an attempt to remove Brett from my psyche.

So far, it wasn’t working.

So, instead, I’d make small talk with Leonard and try to get on with my day.

“How far can you see with your telescope?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.

Leonard snickered and the sound echoed through the air around us. “The Planet Peeper can see to the farthest reaches of the cosmos!”

Yep, he’s definitely screwing with me.

Leonard cleared his throat. “But the best thing about it? It can show you things you didn’t even know you were looking for.”

I raised one eyebrow, wondering if these were simply the ramblings of a kooky old man, or if he was getting at something else. His comment made me slightly uncomfortable, and I subtly dug my toes into the sand, trying to distract myself.

Leonard held eye contact with me. “The more you magnify things, the less they make sense.”

Is he talking about… me and Brett?

No , I scolded myself, this is not a movie and you’re not the main character.

Years of adulation from fans had clouded my perspective and inflated my ego.

“How long have you had it?” I asked.

“Oh, a few days,” Leonard answered matter-of-factly, pressing his eye against it before pulling away and looking at me again. “This telescope has taught me that it’s not what’s far away that surprises you, but what’s right under your nose.”

All right , I thought, that was odd.

I cleared my throat. “Are you talking about?—”

“Brett!” Leonard exclaimed, interrupting me.

“No!” I said, raising my hands in protest.

Holy shit, Leonard just called me out.

But a voice from behind me shook me from my thoughts. “Are you that disappointed to see me, Luke?”

I turned to see Brett standing behind me.

Fuck .

“It’s good to know that just the mere mention of my name results in you screaming no at the top of your lungs,” Brett added before walking past me toward Leonard’s telescope.

I scoffed. “I didn’t scream.”

But Brett ignored me. He was too busy eyeing Leonard’s ridiculous contraption. For some reason, that enraged me. Brett had walked past me as if I were invisible. First, he spends all day making a living recording podcasts about me, then he makes a snide comment and pretends I don’t exist.

The man was a real class act.

Brett studied the telescope like a curious student. “What’s this?”

“This,” Leonard said with pride and childlike enthusiasm, “is The Sky Spy 5000.”

“Wait,” I said, “I thought it was 3000? And wasn’t it called something else?”

Leonard shook his head. “No.”

Brett laughed. “You think he doesn’t know the name of his own… um… what is this, exactly?”

Leonard showed off the telescope as if he were a model showcasing a prize on The Price is Right . “It’s a magical telescope.”

“Magical?” Brett asked, furrowing his brow.

Leonard nodded, unphased, seemingly oblivious to Brett’s condescending tone.

Brett was obviously completely incapable of having a normal conversation with a person without insulting their work.

It was good to see that his cruelty extended to everyone and not just me. Brett was the type who liked to share his hatred with everyone. An equal-opportunity hater. I wondered if his animosity held him back in his personal life.

Suddenly, I found myself wondering if Brett was single.

“Magical!” Leonard exclaimed, shaking me from my thoughts. “That’s right. You can see everything with it. And sometimes it’s not the stars that are the surprise, but what’s close by.”

Silence filled the air around us, penetrated only by the sounds of waves on the shore.

Brett glanced over at me and if I hadn’t known any better, I could have sworn I saw a look of nervousness on his face. I’d only seen it once before—when Brett had shut the door quickly after Stacy squawked in the background.

For a moment, as Leonard tinkered with his telescope, I wished I could read Brett’s mind. I wished that I could push past all the snarky comments and the sarcastic quips into what he really thought of me.

Normally, I didn’t spend hours… days… weeks thinking about the opinions of other people. But Brett’s words had grabbed hold of me.

How could I be this intrigued by someone who hated me so much?

Then again, maybe Leonard had picked up on something that both Brett and I had missed.

Something in the stars.

“Great!” Brett said, his tone clearly, painfully mocking. “A magical telescope that reveals all. Maybe it’ll help Luke understand why he’s been so out of touch lately.”

Wow , I thought, back to square one .

Just when I thought we might have made a little progress with our animosity. Just when I thought, for a fleeting moment, that Brett might soften and reveal his true self, he shows his true colors again.

He couldn’t help himself.

Maybe this is all there is to him.

The thought made me shudder.

Deep down, I had desperately wanted him to be a nice person. I wanted the ruthlessness and attitude to be just a persona. I wanted to have one—just one—interaction with him in which he didn’t insult me or take shots at me.

I wanted to dig deeper and see who Brett Mercer really was.

But for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why .