Noah

“You’re rotation is terrible.” Preston stood in front of me. His arms crossed over his chest and a look of disgust on his face.

I stopped in my back swing and brought the club back down.

I took a practice swing.

“Better, Coach?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. I took the club back, rotated around my right leg, made a brief pause in my back swing for emphasis and swung down and through the ball. I didn’t bother watching it.

The elevated tee box made the shot appear longer. The fairway consisted of overgrown vines. You hit your ball in there it was gone forever.

Given no other options, you had to put your ball on the green.

I’d hit it solid. I knew where it landed, exactly where I aimed. I wished my aim with Callie was better, more predictable. She had been on edge, up and down in her emotions since we arrived.

Last night was great. I finally got her to relax. Orgasms in front of postcard type views would make anyone relax.

“Nice shot.” Preston said. The disgust turned to admiration.

“Thanks.” I hopped in the driver seat and waited for him to join me.

“Lucky shot.” He mumbled under his breath.

I shook my head. He couldn’t stop.

“That’s skill my friend.” I said and took off before he could climb in. I skidded to a stop a few feet away.

I looked back and laughed.

Preston stood with his hands out shaking his head.

“Come on.” I waved him forward.

He jogged up to the cart and slid in next to me.

We’d played through the course first thing this morning. We had the course to ourselves for the morning round. With the two of us and our golf games improving over the years, we would finish a round of eighteen in under three hours, have some lunch and play another eighteen before heading back to the cabin to meet the girls for dinner.

We were on the seventeenth hole of the second round.

“Always with the jokes.” Preston took a swig from the bottle and placed it back in the cup rest between us. This was how we did it, eighteen holes of golf and a pint of expensive whiskey. As twenty one year olds with million dollar contracts, we thought it made us gangsta. Now, we drank it because it made our old, tired, worn out bones warm in the crisp Aspen air.

Preston handed me the bottle and I took a sip.

“We must be getting old.” I handed it back to him. “It doesn’t even burn anymore.”

“Yeah. We had too much of this shit at my wedding.” Preston nodded and took another sip.

“What was the final bill on the wedding anyway?” I asked. Wondering what it would set me back in a few months.

“Oh, somewhere close to three mill.” Preston stared out into the view.

“Oh shit.” I blinked. Is that what weddings really cost?

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged his shoulders. “The studio paid half.”

None of us where aware that when we attended the wedding, we would become part of the cast of a reality special for E Television. The photos were exclusively sold to some fashion magazine for charity. When the super bowl MVP marries America’s sweetheart, that’s expected.

“Helps to have a dual millionaire income, too. ” I said. I stopped at the next putting green. I got out of the golf cart and checked out the view. It was amazing from every angle, from every vantage point. The par three green sat nestled in a small valley between two mountains. The course was sculpted out of the mountain, the undulations of the course worked over the peaks and valleys of the terrain. It became disorienting at times. The whiskey helped that, too.

“Your girl has money.” Preston handed me my putter.

“She doesn’t have full access to it until she turns twenty-five.” We walked on the green step for step. I reminded me of when we played together in college. We always stepped on the field at the same time, left first and then right first to follow. It was our ritual. Even seven seasons in, every time I step on a football field, I missed it.

“Yeah, I forgot, you like em young.”

“Dude. It’s only a four-year difference. Although …” I rubbed my face.

Preston crouched down to line up his putt.

“What?”

“I don’t know.” I walked over to my ball, marked it, picked it up, and cleaned it. “Ever since we got engaged, she’s been off. Maybe she’s too young to get married.”

“What do you mean…” Preston stopped in mid sentence to make his putt. He stayed in his putting stance until the ball dropped into center of the hole with a plop. “Off.”

“I don’t know. I thought she’d be more excited. More enthusiastic about it.”

“She sounded enthusiastic last night.” Preston leaned over, picked up his ball, and smirked. “And I'm not talking about dinner.”

“Dude.” My face scrunched up. “You listened to us have sex?” I closed my eyes and opened them.

“I may have walked by your door,” he chuckled. "When I took the dogs out. It sounded like you didn't want to be interrupted.” Preston howled.

“You pervert.”

“I’m just proud I taught you right.” He nodded.

“You taught me what, exactly?” I asked.

“How to please a woman?” Preston looked around. “Wait. That didn’t sound right.”

“Yeah it didn’t.” I leaned down to place my ball and line up my putt.

Preston squatted down.

“You remember Brittany.” Preston chuckled.

“Yeah, I remember Brittany.” I could feel my ears getting warm. It was mine and Preston's one and only sexual exploit together.

Not with each other, we made damn sure our swords didn’t cross, but Brittany had a fantasy and she was hot and we were in college and did stupid shit back then.

“I’ll give Brittany some credit, but I learned nothing from you.” I nudged him.

“Okay,” Preston held his hands up. “ I’ll let you keep your fantasy in order to preserve your precious ego.”

“Can we get back to Callie and I?” I held a hand out.

Preston laughed as he walked to the side of the green and waited for me to putt.

I took a practice swing, then sunk my putt for a birdie.

“Nice.” Preston said. “Do you think she doesn’t want to do the forever thing with you.”

“No. I really don’t think that’s it.” I rubbed my face. “We were made for each other.”

“You still think she trying to live out some unrealistic fantasy with you?” Preston asked.

“No. I don’t think that’s it either.” I answered and placed my putter in my bag. “I think she just doesn’t understand what life with me will be like and the unknown freaks her out because she can’t make it up in her head anymore.”

Preston paused with his hands resting on the top of the cart.

“You ruined her carefully planned out fantasy by becoming her unknown reality.”

“Wow, that’s deep.” It really was deep and more accurate than I cared to admit.

“You need to talk to her. Reassure her. Give her more of that, yes, Noah love and let her know that while life with you may be unpredictable, it’s every bit as fulfilling as the fantasy.”

It was my turn to shake my head.

“Too far.”

“Yeah.” I slid in the driver side of the car.

“No way man. Slid over,” Preston said.

“What? I won the hole.”

“We tied the hold, slide over.”

It was my turn to look around. If anyone heard us, you’d think we sounded like two spoiled little kids.

I slid over and paused as the view captured my conscious. It must have hit Preston too. For the first time all afternoon, he stopped talking.

It’s probably why we’d been boys for so long. We knew when we needed to offer advice and when we needed to shut the hell up and enjoy the ride.

I needed to teach Callie to do the same thing. Enjoy the ride and for sure make our life together better than her fantasies.