Page 3 of The Marriage Playbook

Liam downed the whiskey in one swallow. He stared out at the dance floor—women in sparkling minidresses were writhing to the latest club beat, but today Liam had no interest in joining them. He wanted to stay here in the VIP area, to remind himself of the lifestyle he had earned through years of dedication to his sport. “I don’t know,” he said. “Do you think Sandusky’s right about being able to start in the first game of the season?”

“I wouldn’t worry,” Mark said again. “He’s just a kid. You know that. He probably has no idea what to expect now that he’s on a pro team. Remember what it was like when we started?”

Liam did. He and Mark had joined the Stingers the same year and had been close friends ever since. He remembered well what it had felt like to know that he had finally made it to the big leagues, only to realize that he still had a lot of proving himself left to do.

“We were never like Sandusky,” he said. “We didn’t come in and immediately disrespect established members of the team.”

“Well, no,” Mark agreed, chuckling. “He is a bit high on himself, isn’t he? Oh, lord, look at that.”

Liam followed his friend’s gaze and let out a groan.

Garrett Sandusky had just entered the club. He was accompanied by a couple of the other newcomers to the team, all of whom were looking around with interest.

“We’re the new star players on the Miami Stingers,” Sandusky was saying in a voice that carried up to the VIP section. The DJ was unfortunately between sets at the moment, so Liam was forced to hear every word out of the kid’s mouth.

“Let me escort you to our VIP section,” the hostess purred.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Liam hissed.

“It’s not very crowded tonight,” Mark said. “That’s probably why.” But he was frowning too. Liam hoped his friend was recalling the same thing he was—that it had been a whole year before the two of them had gained access to the VIP lounge. They’d had to become established names in the media first. There had been no moment when they could have just walked in here, informed someone that they were on the team, and received special treatment.

Sandusky is really just having everything handed to him, the little weasel.

The newcomers to the team disappeared for a moment, but then Sandusky’s head appeared at the top of the stairs. He was followed by his three friends. As they reached the VIP section, they stopped and took in Liam and Mark.

Sandusky’s face split into a wide grin. “Making the most of this place while you still can, Sims?” he asked. “I heard this was where the stars of the team came for a little fun, but I have to admit, I assumed that meant I wouldn’t be seeing you tonight. I would have thought this was more a place for rising talent than falling talent.”

Mark reached over and put a hand on Liam’s arm as if to hold him back.

Liam picked up the bottle of whiskey and poured some into his glass to distract himself from what he really wanted to do, which was to find the sharpest words he could to fling at Garrett Sandusky. He did his best to ignore the kid.

“You two have some room at your table, I see,” Sandusky said. He walked over to the table Mark and Liam were sharing, sat down, and picked up the bottle of whiskey. “And plenty to drink as well.” He flagged a hostess. “Bring us a few more glasses, please. We’re going to share with our friends here.”

“Now, hold on,” Liam argued. “We didn’t invite you to sit down with us.”

“Oh, don’t be so uptight. We’re all on the same team now,” Sandusky said. “I know it’s hard for an old dog to accept new things, but you heard Coach today. He wanted me to be the one to go on practicing receiving touchdown passes while you ran laps, and that’s because he knows which one of us has a future with the team. You’ll be happier if you can just accept that your time is over.”

Liam leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “All right, Sandusky,” he said. “Let’s get one thing straight. You might have been the star of your college team, but things don’t work like that in the pros. You don’t get to just waltz in and think of yourself as the only player that matters. That’s not how things are. I may be older than you, but that makes me a whole lot more experienced, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll pay attention to what your elders have to teach you.”

Sandusky smirked. “I guess that’s the only way you have to feel important now that there’s some young blood on the team. Don’t worry too much, Sims. I’m sure people will remember your glory days, now that you’re being put out to pasture.”

The hostess arrived with more glasses. Without taking his eyes off of Liam, Sandusky reached out, picked up the bottle of whiskey, poured himself a generous measure, and took a long swallow.

It was, suddenly, more than Liam could take.

He lunged across the table, smacked the glass out of Sandusky’s hand, and sent it shattering to the ground. In the background, he could hear the hostess shriek with surprise, and ordinarily that might have stopped him, but his temper was flared. He grabbed Sandusky by the collar of his shirt and hauled him to his feet, stepping away from the table so that he could slam Sandusky’s back against the wall.

“Liam!” Mark yelled.

Liam wasn’t listening. “You better learn some respect,” he growled. “You’re not going to last five minutes on this team if you don’t get that attitude of yours under control. Not everyone is going to be as patient as I’ve been.”

Sandusky was just grinning. Was he too much of an idiot to realize he was about to get socked in the face?

Liam drew back his fist, seeing red.

Mark caught his arm, but Liam gave it a shake and sent his friend stumbling off him. He checked his own punch before he threw it, but he kept his arm cocked. “Apologize,” he growled.

The smile had begun to fade from Sandusky’s face, but it was clear that no apology was forthcoming. “Hit me if you have to,” Sandusky grumbled. “We’ll see what Coach Reeves has to say about that.”