Womanizer

Zacky trudged into the house, tossing his keys onto the table by the front door.

“Zack?” Janine’s inquiring voice preceded her through the archway connecting the living room and entrance hall.

“Hey, baby.”

Janine came over and kissed him. “I was starting to get worried. What did Brian need you for?”

Zacky led the way into the kitchen, where he retrieved a beer from the fridge. He popped the cap off, then leaned against the white-oak cabinets. Janine sat at the table, watching him with concern.

“I talked to Megan about Brian when she got home Saturday,” Zacky said finally.

Janine’s brow furrowed. What did this have to do with Brian calling Zacky for help this morning? “I know. You pissed her off.”

“I’m just looking out for her,” Zacky muttered defensively.

“She thinks you’re treating her like a little kid. We’re not her parents, Zack. You have to remember that.”

“So you’re going to be perfectly fine with her sleeping with Brian? Because it will happen.”

Janine frowned. “What brought this on? Three weeks ago you were reassuring me that she was too smart to fall for Brian.”

Zacky set his beer on the marble countertop and rubbed his eyes. “Brian needed help moving some furniture.”

“Moving furniture? Why?”

“He needed it for the house he has. The house that is about ten minutes from here.”

Janine’s jaw dropped.

“He’s staying in Alabama for the rest of the football season. He says it’s more convenient than flying back and forth every weekend.”

Janine stared at Zacky. “Which really means…?”

“He’s hunting Megan.” Zacky’s mouth was a grim line as he added, “And what Brian wants, Brian gets.”

**********

“Give me a nacho,” Megan said.

“Get your own,” Brian retorted.

Megan glared. Brian smiled, smacking his lips tauntingly. Megan turned away from him. She squinted down at the sidelines, then let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh my God! Look at that girl!”

“Where?” Brian leaned forward eagerly.

“Right there. See? God, she’s hardly wearing anything.”

While Brian searched for the nonexistent scantily-clad female, Megan plucked a nacho from his tray.

“Where, Megan? I don’t see her.”

Megan shrugged, licking cheese sauce from her fingers. “She must’ve gone to the bathroom or something.”

Brian’s eyes flicked from Megan to his nachos, and realization dawned on him. “You little—“

Megan smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Bri.”

“I’d hurt you if you weren’t—“

“So damn cute?” Megan interjected.

“—a girl,” Brian finished.

“A girl that is so damn cute?”

Brian shook his head, amusement shining in his dark eyes.

Megan sighed. “I wish halftime would end so Bama can finish whooping Arkansas’ ass.”

“’Whooping?’” Brian echoed.

“Yeah, whooping.”

“Is that a real word?”

“I don’t know, but if you don’t shut it, I’ll give you first-hand knowledge of what it means.”

Brian laughed. “Damn! You are one violent little girl!”

“You just figured that out? Wow, you are slow.”

Brian flipped her off.

“Not right now. The second half is starting.”

Alabama went on to triumph over Arkansas, 49-14.

“That was an ass STOMPING!” Megan exclaimed happily.

John was scanning the stands. He spotted Megan and Brian and broke away from his celebrating teammates.

“You were awesome!” Megan said, leaning down to kiss his cheek in greeting.

“I’m beginning to think it’s you,” John replied. “You’re my good luck charm or something.”

Megan beamed. Brian had the urge to gag.

“So, listen, some of the guys want to hit Barry’s a little later. It’s not far from here. You just—“

"I know where it is,” Brian cut in.

John grinned. “Of course. I forgot who I was talking to for a second. Well, we’ll be there around eleven. Y’all wanna meet us for a couple of drinks?”

Megan looked at Brian hopefully. He barely suppressed a sigh. “Yeah, man. We’ll see you there.”

The smile that lit Megan’s features made Brian think it might just be worth having to endure a few hours with a bunch of jocks.

**********

Oh yeah, it’s worth it, Brian thought an hour and a half later.

Megan had just emerged from the bathroom, dressed for a night out. She was in a black Jack Daniel’s tanktop, tied up to expose her stomach, and a black miniskirt.

“Do you really like Jack, or is this false advertising?” Brian asked.

She sat on the edge of the nearest bed to pull on a pair of knee-high boots. “I really like Jack.”

“Straight?”

She nodded. “It’s one of the only liquors I can drink straight.”

Brian pocketed the room key. “Ready?”

“Yep.” She got to her feet. “You have my ID, right?”

“Yeah.” Brian opened the door and ushered Megan out into the hallway.

“Bri,” she said as they walked to the elevator.

“What?”

“Don’t get drunk tonight?”

Brian glanced at her. She was seemingly interested in a painting on the wall next to the elevator, but he could tell she was waiting for his response. “I didn’t plan on it.”

Her posture eased a little. With relief, he knew. “Good. Because if you got wasted, I’d just leave your ass at the bar.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She giggled and he couldn’t stop his smile. They boarded the elevator and rode to the lobby. Once they stepped outside, Brian turned left and set off down the sidewalk.

“Um, aren’t we driving?” Megan queried, stopping short just past the glass doors.

“No. The bar is right up here.”

Megan followed Brian. Less than five minutes later, she was being carded at the door of a small brick building. Brian knew the guy at the door. Of course.

Megan obtained a wristband and Brian led the way to the bar. The football players weren’t there yet. Brian ordered two shots of Jack and handed one to Megan.

“Thanks,” she murmured. She felt a little awkward being here with just Brian. This situation was just too close to a date for her comfort.

Much to her relief, John and his friends showed up in a matter of minutes.

“Drinks all around!” Javier Arenas, cornerback, yelled.

“YEAH!” Rashad Johnson, Glen Coffee, Andre Smith, and PJ Fitzgerald cheered.

“John, man, what do you want?” Javier demanded, giving the bartender their order.

“Nothing right now, man.” John had eyes only for Megan. He approached and looked her over appreciatively. “Damn.”

She blushed.

“Wanna dance?” he questioned.

Megan nodded. Hand in hand, they made their way to the dance floor. Brian quickly downed two more shots of JD, glowering.

The dancing began innocently enough. Soon, however, John and Megan were pressed so closely together that they could’ve been conjoined twins. John’s teammates tried to get Brian to join them in their rowdy celebration, but Brian wasn’t in the mood. He continued to watch Megan and John.

When John’s hands started roaming, Brian lost it. He was on his feet before he even knew what he was doing. He stalked across the dance floor and grabbed Megan’s arm.

“Brian, what the hell?” she cried.

“We’re leaving,” he said tersely.

She jerked her arm free. “I’m not ready to leave.”

“I don’t care. We have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow and it’s late.”

“But Bri—“

“Syn, man,” John cut in. “Why don’t you go back to the hotel and Megan can stay here with us?”

“No,” Brian refused. “I’m responsible for her.”

“Nothing will happen to her,” John stated confidently. “She’s in good hands.”

“Yeah,” Megan said. “Bri, I’m with a fucking football team. No one is going to fuck with me.”

“No.” Brian reclaimed his grip on her arm and dragged her to the door.

“What the hell is your problem!?” Megan shouted angrily.

“I’m not leaving you alone with people that we don’t really know in a strange city!” Brian said.

Megan glared. “What exactly do you think they’re going to do to me, Bri?”

“I know how guys think.”

“No. You know how YOU think.”

“I know what John was thinking just now.”

Megan stopped walking, forcing Brian to stop, too, or risk dislocating her arm. She was staring at him. “So that’s what this is about.”

“You’re a small female, Megan. He’s a football player. Do the math.”

“I was handling it.”

“You were being handled.”

“Maybe I liked it.”

Now it was Brian’s turn to stare. “Yeah?” he said after a long moment. “Well, get laid on your own time.” He released his hold on her arm and strode away.

Angry, and a little bit confused, Megan stood on the sidewalk, watching his retreating form and debating the consequences of going back into the bar. “Dammit!” she swore, and, hating her conscience, she hurried after Brian.