Chapter One

Jesse

We mark the end of another basketball season by partying hard. I'm just a bystander, though, as drinking beer and whiskey until I almost pass out in a below average nightclub isn't really my scene. I enjoy the camaraderie with the guys, and I get that it's important to blow off some steam every now and then, but does it have to be to this extent?

The guys roar with laughter as one of my teammates downs another beer. "Yeah!!" they all shout, pumping their fists in the air as they encourage one another to get as shit faced as humanly possible. I watch on the sidelines, sat at a table in the ‘VIP' section. I wince and feign a smile as Kashawn Wright, one of my teammates, bumps me with his fist and smiles.

"Aren"t you glad the season is finally over? Man, I"ve been itching for some downtime. Wonder what coach would say if he saw us doing this?" He winks conspiratorially.

"Yeah ... this is a spectacular way to celebrate the end of a grueling season," I smile and grab my lemonade. I'm on driving duty tonight, just like every time we go out. I honestly prefer it. I hate the feeling of being out of control and I've only ever experienced a hangover once in my life. I promised myself I would never drink that much again. That was five years ago, and I haven't broken that promise yet.

Kashawn"s full brows fold into a scowl. "Why don't you pick the car up in the morning? We can get a cab instead? Have a drink, live a little!"

"Nah," I reply. "I'm more than happy with my lemonade. And besides, I enjoy watching you fools make assholes out of yourselves."

"You"re no fun, Jesse." He stands and moves to join some of the team gathered at the VIP bar with some ladies.

This is not my idea of a fun night out. None of the other guys get it. Rayford Jr Clanton always tells me I act like a 50-year-old has been, and not the successful 24 year old basketball star the media make me out to be. But it's all bullshit. None of it's true. But I mostly try to ignore the tabloids and what they write about me. There's no point getting upset about shit that's out of my control. The boys think my problem is that I don"t have a girlfriend. Occasionally, they try to introduce one cheerleader or the other to me, thinking I'd be ‘less uptight'—their words, not mine; I think I'm pretty fucking awesome just as I am, thank you very much. Besides, I"ve never met a woman that's piqued my interest.

I drink the last of my lemonade, then head to the bar. I have a feeling we'll be here for some time, so better get another lemonade in.

"Great season Cap. Here ... this one"s on the house," Max, the burly bartender offered.

"Thanks a lot, man. Very generous." I look over at my teammates pawing over the women at the bar. Let them have their fun. For me, I already long to get back to training. I'm happiest when I'm busy keeping my mind and body active. I think back to all the hiking adventures I've been on with Hal Torres, my best friend … Great times.

My phone rings, bringing me back to reality. I look at the caller and smile.

Talk about the devil. It"s Hal.

Knowing I won"t hear anything in this din, I head to the entrance of the club.

"It"s about time you called me, Torres. What"s up? How"s life as the youngest CEO on this side of the world?"

"Not as interesting as yours, I bet. Great season, by the way, though I didn"t expect anything less." I can hear the smile in Hal"s voice. Hal has been my best friend since we were barely able to ride bikes. Even though life and career paths pulled us in different directions, we still hang out as often as we can and check up on each other regularly.

"Yeah ... I"m exhausted though. It"s not physical. It"s … I just need a holiday," I look back inside the club to see my teammates dancing and gyrating with the random women they'd just met.

"I"ll be heading to the mountains in a few days. Wanna come?"

"Your dad"s cabin in Colorado?"

"Yep. Fancy it?"

"I"m there."