EVE’S PHONE CALL MADE MY departure from Scarlet come sooner than I had wanted, but I didn’t try to explain because she deserved her privacy. The other reason I didn’t say much was because I needed to go right then. She was in trouble.
Eve had been my friend before we’d added the benefits, and I was on a short list of people she trusted enough to reach out to and who still talked to her—addicts burn through bridges quicker than a struck match. She’d been our team physical therapist until she got caught up in prescription drugs. New York F.C. had a zero-tolerance policy, and it had hurt us all to let her go. Even so, Eve didn’t let that shit be the end of her story. She was a fighter. She went into rehab strong, got clean, and got herself some private gigs to keep going.
The addiction had come back, but she’d called and wanted to go for help. I’d made her a promise: if she called, I’d get her in, no questions asked. As her friend, I wasn’t about to leave her hanging, even if our friends-with-benefits thing hadn’t worked out.
Friends with benefits hadn’t worked out with Eve, so what made me think it would work with Scarlet? That was the part nagging at me on my drive over to her place in Chelsea. Admittedly, things were different with Scarlet. I’d been taking things slow. Knowing her and the fact that she’d held off on having sex so long, I knew she must’ve thought it was a big deal. I wanted to make it big, take things slow, and treat her right. Sure, I cared about her, but honestly I had reached the end of my good guy rope. Hell, I’d had her naked and spread open for me to do as I liked, and what had I done? I’d come in my pants. That was when it hit me hard—I was caught up. She’d gotten to me, and I wanted her for more than just a few nights. I was dragging things out because I wanted to keep her with me. I wanted to make her mine. That was what was going to happen the next time we were alone together. I would take her to my bed and make her feel just how good being with me all night could be.
I settled into the peace of my decision, silencing all the rest of the shit that would fuck it all up—the program, suspension, and a Ricci brothers beat-down. I didn’t care about me, but what about Scarlet? She wasn’t in the program, but she might get in trouble too. She was also on Coach Frost’s radar.
I pushed those negative thoughts away like I’d done most times in my life when I wanted to get my way. I was being selfish. Everything about her hit me right. She was easygoing, had a great sense of humor, and like me, had a lot of heart for her work and family. I was also attracted to her beauty and innocence. Every time I left her, I thought about when and how I’d be with her again. I was caught up. I was also a couple of blocks from Eve’s and needed to put all that on hold and out of my mind. Since Eve was using, I didn’t know what I was going to walk in on. I had to be alert.
Eve lived in a walkup apartment, and I had her spare key to use to get up to her place. When I got inside, I ran up the three flights of stairs and over to her door, which was slightly open. She always kept the door locked, even when she knew I was on my way.
“Eve?” I said, announcing myself before I pushed it the rest of the way in. The place was dark, and when I turned on the lights, I wished I’d left them off. Her cream couch was splashed and stained with spilled drinks. Her glass coffee table and the floor were covered with party leftovers—plastic cups, cigarette butts, and leftover food with insects feasting on it. I did spot a few trash bags around, like she was trying to clean up, but that was the only reassuring thing I saw. What got to me were the burnt spoons, plastic bag, and foil—telltale signs of hard-core drugging. Fuck me.
I cursed and counted to ten to try to get my anger down before I dealt with her. It didn’t work. “Eve, get your ass out here now.”
She came in naked with a little smile on her face. Previously, at the sight of her naked body, I would’ve bent her over to fuck her hard where she stood. Of course, that wasn’t happening this time.
She sauntered toward me. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“That’s not what that call was for,” I said as calmly as I could. “Get dressed and we’ll go.”
She squeezed her breasts. “Oh, come on, you can at least give me a quickie, or are you doing someone else? You never return my calls anymore. I mean, I needed sex. I told you, it helped keep me clean.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m not responsible for your choices. You need help, and I’ve got to leave for Seattle tomorrow evening for a game. Either you’re ready to go to rehab, or I’m leaving.” There wasn’t going to be any enabling here. In her right mind, Eve wouldn’t stand for it. User Eve stuck out her lower lip, pouting.
“I called you because I needed help and you’re abandoning me because I asked you for sex?” she sobbed. “I can’t believe you.”
“What the hell are you on? Heroin?” I said, my tone dripping with disgust.
She went over, grabbed her purse, and thrust a prescription bottle at me. “This was what I used. The heroin wasn’t mine.”
I snatched the bottle and clasped her face, tilting it up to see in her track lighting. Her pupils weren’t pinpoints, but guilt was pouring off her in waves. She had done more than she was willing to admit right then.
“Don’t fucking lie to me. You go over to heroin and I can’t be around you, ever again. What the fuck? You call when you’re already gone? Your call is supposed to come before you do shit.”
“You stopped seeing me,” she sobbed. “I called a friend and we had a party. He had prescription pills. I only took a few, but I wanted the whole bottle.”
I stormed over to the bathroom and flushed them down the toilet. I wasn’t born yesterday, though. Sometimes through my volunteer work at the Boys & Girls Club, the parents needed help, and we had extended our work to help people recovering from addiction. What I’d learned was that they always give up the first stash. Her place would need a full sweep, but I would have to outsource that. “Get dressed and we’re going.”
She wrapped her arms around me from the back. “I was hoping you’d fuck me before we go.”
“Give it up,” I said. “It’s not going to happen.” I went past her and she followed me across the hall to her bedroom, which was surprisingly free of the disaster that had happened everywhere else. Her bed was made up like she’d been expecting to entertain, crisp sheets turned back. I ignored it, went to her mirrored dresser, and started rifling through her drawers until I found a T-shirt and sweatpants. “Put these on.”
“My God, at least give me a pair of designer jeans and shirt. I’m not going in looking like I hit skid row,” she grumbled, going to grab a lingerie set and a pair of designer jeans.
I didn’t reply, but I could see now that she had. It hurt to see someone who had so much get lost in drugs. I didn’t take them. When I used to have parties, I found too much drug shit and that ended having them at my home. Any links to me and drugs and I’d be off the team.
“You’re my last friend, you know,” she told me as she put on her clothes. “I mean, a real one, one who doesn’t want anything from me.”
I didn’t answer. I got on the phone and called my cleaning company to do a full sweep and clean up her place. Then I called a friend I knew in the private rehabilitation business so he could get her a bed and forward the bill to me. I’d have to be there to sign her in. Once I got her to throw the trash and food out, we left.
When we got to the car and she was buckled in, she asked, “Why did you stop seeing me? I thought we were having fun.”
“We were,” I answered. “But we make better friends than lovers.”
“You’ve got someone else. I could see it on your face when you came in,” she said. She needed the distraction from what was to come and I understood that. There had been a little uneasiness in the way she’d come at me before. She wanted more, but that wasn’t happening with us. I told her the truth.
“I do.” I sighed heavily.
She let out a dry laugh. “Don’t sound like the world has come to an end. You were bound to fall for someone sometime. Are you playing hero with her too?”
“It’s not just that with Scarlet,” I said, a smile forming on my lips. I didn’t have to be a hero, have status, be tough, or be the funniest guy on the team. She just liked me, and I liked her. What we had was new and different than I’d ever had before. What I was sure of was that I wanted to spend more time with her, but I wasn’t ready to give any of that away in a car ride. Instead, I told her about the dance program and the risk we were taking.
She blew out. “You sure are one to go for the drama, eh? She sounds sweet.”
She didn’t say the rest, but she didn’t have to: Scarlet was too sweet for someone like me. I had nothing to say back to that, so I went quiet for the rest of the drive to the rehab facility on the Upper West Side. I was so lost in my head that I didn’t see the paparazzo outside. The flash of light in my car had me swerving, scraping my wheel against the curb. Had he been camped out front? Probably some high-profile person had checked in. Only the lowest scum would sit there and wait outside of rehab to try to get photos of people who were vulnerable. That thought made me get out of the car and start yelling at him.
“What the fuck, man? You almost made me crash.”
He just kept on flashing and filming. I’d been played. He had photos and audio now. My impulsivity had become icing on whatever shit cake he was making.
I cursed and got back in to circle around to the back.
Eve had her ball cap and glasses on. “Forget this tonight,” she said. “I’ll go tomorrow.”
That wasn’t going to happen. Going in for treatment was an urgent situation—who knew what her mindset would be the next day. I wasn’t ready to give up. I called my brother John, and we waited until he got one of the cops nearby to push the paparazzo on for loitering, then went on in. After a bunch of paperwork, I was free to leave.
Eve gave me a hug. “Thank you.”
She added in a slew of promises that she might or might not keep. It didn’t matter. It was a day at a time here on out. She couldn’t fix the past; all she could do now was move forward. Knowing she was getting the help she needed made whatever was to come worth it. It had to be.
The Google alert I had set up came up with pictures of me a few days later, with Eve in the car and on the street. Thankfully, the rehab facility was left out. If it hadn’t been, my lawyers would have been after them in full force. Still, the headline implied something dubious: “Tyler Wilson’s mystery woman and their late, late night out.”
I had pretty much put the night out of my mind—that was, until I tried to get in touch with Scarlet. She’d not returned any of my calls since I dropped her off that night, and when she did answer, she was busy. As it was, I had away games in Los Angeles and Atlanta, and I left her to herself when I heard she was at her parents’ house. Zoey had kept me informed, but even when I did return, I still didn’t get her to talk to me until just over a week later, a day before we were due to go to the ballet for more practice with the program. Had she seen the photos? I didn’t want to tell Eve’s business, but I also didn’t like not knowing what was going on with Scarlet.
“What’s up?” I asked her. “I don’t have time or energy for games. Just tell me what’s on your mind, sweetheart.”
“I’ve been busy, and from what I’ve seen, you’ve been…busy too,” she said. The way she said it had me thinking there was more to it, but before I asked what she meant, I thought I’d try to put her at ease.
“The paparazzi came out of nowhere and took pictures of me dropping off a friend.” Even to me that sounded lame, but Eve going to rehab was something she’d share by her own choice. “Besides that, I haven’t been busy. I’m not too busy for you. You want me, I’m there. You and I are friends.” Friends and lovers, maybe more once we get back to talking to each other.
“Yes, we’re friends,” she said. Her voice sounded nasally. “I’ve got to go back to practice.”
“Wait, how is your mom doing?” I asked, trying to keep her on the line.
“She’s doing all right,” she said. “She stayed up here this weekend, but she and Vince are going away to Florida soon.”
“That sounds good,” I said with a lift in my voice. “You going to be at the dance program class today?”
“No. I have additional rehearsals for a gala performance of Swan Lake to do today,” she said, not saying a word about me not getting to see her. “Michel said you’re having a lesson with him.”
“Yeah. He’s coming to our class and working with me after. I’ve got a game on your day off tomorrow,” I said. “I was hoping we’d get together afterward.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I’ve got a date.”
My jaw clenched. “Oh, you do?”
“Yes. It’s better this way.” Her voice was gravelly. “We won’t have to sneak around, and you don’t have to worry about giving me sex lessons anymore.”
“I wasn’t worried—”
She hung up on me.