Vegas Aces: The Wide Receiver Complete Series

CHAPTER 8 TRISTAN

Three weeks after the day I was supposed to marry Tessa and instead had my entire world blown apart, I’m not any closer to figuring out what my next step should be.

Instead, I’ve thrown myself into workouts and preparing for the upcoming season.

The news broke that the Aces signed me to a fifth year about a week after our failed attempt at a wedding, and I had to put on a happy face for the media. And truthfully, I am happy to be signed to the Aces. I’m ecstatic. I have my amended contract in hand with the guarantee of a fuck of a lot more money. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted…except there’s one big piece missing.

One piece I almost had within my reach. One piece I can’t quite seem to get over.

My dad’s surgery went well, a bright spot in an otherwise drab landscape, and while I wanted to go home to be with him during his recovery, both he and my mother assured me he was fine. We’ve talked every day, but otherwise, I’ve been focused on football.

The Aces OTAs—Organized Team Activities--started yesterday with a three-day focus on workouts. I’ve had nearly three full weeks of intense workouts on my own, so I’m in better shape than most of my colleagues.

We’re all hurting, but I’m hurting less than they are after their off-seasons filled with too much beer, too many carbs, and way too many women.

Women just cause complications.

And that’s why I’ve avoided them altogether. I’m not partying. I’m not drinking. I’m not going to nightclubs or sex clubs or bars.

Instead, I’m staying in Travis’s guest room, though I’m not much of a houseguest. He participates in workouts with me some days, we play video games together, and then he goes to the club while I stay at his place playing more video games or calling it an early night so I can run before the sun comes up and the Vegas heat starts to kick in.

We just finished today’s organized workouts, and tonight is Troy Bodine’s big charity event.

He told me to bring a date.

I’m going solo.

The only person I’d even consider going with is very pregnant and hundreds of miles away. Oh, and there’s that whole secret wedged in between the two of us that I still can’t quite wrap my brain around.

I asked my mom if she had the papers.

She confirmed she does.

She asked me if I wanted the information.

Not yet , I’d told her.

I want it, but I’m terrified of it. I want it, but I don’t know what to do once I have it.

I won’t risk his happiness, but I want to know his name.

It’s not a name I gave him, or a name Tessa gave him. It’s the name someone else decided they’d call him for the rest of his life.

I’ve tried over the last three weeks to put myself in Tessa’s shoes.

Absolutely she got the short end of the stick. Absolutely she suffered.

But she had no right to keep it from me.

I get why she kept it buried with the past for seven years. We weren’t in touch, so that part of it isn’t what gets to me. It sucks, but it’s in the past.

What gets to me is the fact that she had every opportunity to tell me once we reconnected, but she didn’t. She didn’t bother.

And that is what hurts.

I blow out a breath and glance at myself in the mirror as I try to push those feelings aside. Tonight is supposed to be fun. I’m not sure how it will be since nothing has felt fun lately, but I’ll give it a try.

Travis decided to go solo, too—maybe in solidarity with me, but I think it has more to do with the fact that he’s been brooding about something he doesn’t care to talk about. Or maybe I’m not being a good friend. Maybe I haven’t been the most approachable guy lately for him to feel like he has someone to talk to in his corner.

I’m not sure I have the capacity to change any of that right now, though. I feel like any advice I dole out might be along the lines of don’t trust women . That’s probably not what he needs to hear right now.

I’m wearing a suit tonight, and the last time I dressed up was the day I was supposed to get married. It was the day my life changed forever, as if my life is split into two periods now. Clueless Tristan before I knew, and heartbroken Tristan after. Maybe it’s even more than those two. Before Tessa left and after. Before Tessa broke me for the second time and after.

My phone buzzes with a text.

Savannah: Can we please talk?

It’s the hundredth time she has sent the exact same text message.

I told her no at first.

Then I started ignoring her.

I scroll to her contact, my finger hovering over the block button when something strange hits me.

It’s like divine intervention as some voice tells me not to do it, and I realize why. If I block her, I might never learn the truth.

And I need to know how she got her hands on the adoption files.

According to Tessa, those records were sealed. The only way someone who isn’t a parent to that child would be able to get those records is through criminal means, and my lovely ex-wife is still on probation.

Instead of responding, I call my lawyer.

I’m supposed to be meeting Travis in the kitchen to pregame before we grab a car to tonight’s event, but I need to make this call.

I glance at the clock. The office is closed—of course, given that it’s a Saturday night after hours—so I leave a message. “Richard, hi, it’s Tristan Higgins. I have some questions regarding my ex-wife’s probation and what would happen if she broke another law. I don’t have evidence, but I think it may be worth looking into. Give me a call back when you can.”

And then I text Savannah back. I’m not sure what comes over me, but suddenly I just have the need to fucking do something.

I guess this is it.

Me: I’m on my way to Troy Bodine’s charity event tonight. Meet me there.

Savannah: I heard about it, but I don’t have an invitation.

Me: Then you’ll be my date.

Savannah: [thumbs up emoji] See you in an hour in the lobby.

It doesn’t surprise me she’s willing to drop whatever she’s doing to meet me. She’s desperate to get in touch, desperate to hang on to me, desperate to keep living the life she’s been living plus my fat new paycheck as the cherry on top, and all that desperation has made her fucking delusional if she honestly believes I’m inviting her to be my date to this thing tonight with no ulterior motives.

I meet Travis in the kitchen, and he’s midway through a tumbler of whiskey.

“You spending a little extra time primping tonight, Princess?” he asks.

“Fuck you,” I say. “No. I was securing a date.”

He laughs, but I don’t. His smile falls quickly as his brows knit together. “Who?”

I offer a menacing grin. “My ex-wife.”

“Savannah?” he says, his eyes bulging.

I nod as I grab the bottle of whiskey and fill a cup to the top. Fuck etiquette. If I’m going to take my ex-wife on a date, I’m going to need a whole lot of alcohol dulling the senses.

“Why?”

I chug down a few sips. “She’s been asking to talk to me, and I told her we can talk at the charity event tonight. I was seconds away from blocking her when I thought of that old saying about keeping your friends close.”

“Enemies closer?” he correctly guesses.

I nod. “I’m done with her bullshit. Believe me. But if I can get her close, I might be able to find out how she got that information in the first place. It couldn’t have been through legal means, and if I have evidence she broke the law, I can bring it to my lawyer. And then the next step is getting her ass thrown in prison, where she belongs.”

“Or you could just, you know, take her out to the middle of the desert, or Thelma and Louise her,” he suggests.

“Thelma and Louise her?” My brows furrow in confusion.

“You know that old movie where they drive off a cliff at the end.” He takes a sip of his drink.

“Uh, thanks for the spoiler alert, man. I hate her, but I still wouldn’t wish death on her.” I chug down more of my drink.

He laughs. “Then you’re a stronger man than I.”

“A taste of her own medicine wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to her,” I admit. “I just have to play it the right way.”

We finish our drinks just as our ride shows up, and we head toward the hotel where Troy is holding his event. I don’t see Savannah, for which I’m grateful as an entire line of photographers snaps photos upon our arrival.

Troy greets us with Sapphire on his arm in the main lobby, and they seem happy together. I can’t help but remember when Troy punished Sapphire and withheld both her orgasm and aftercare. I wonder if I’ll always think of that moment when I see them together. I remember feeling strange about it, like he was being cruel to her—but the way she’s smiling tells me whatever happened between the two of them all those months ago was consensual. Mutual. Welcome, even.

I spot Victor Bancroft greeting guests in the doorway of the banquet hall even though this is Troy’s event. Maybe they’re closer than I realized, which makes sense given the fact that they own a club together.

I peek into the banquet hall and see about a million cameras in there, too. Clearly he wants this event highly publicized, and I’m starting to think it was a terrible idea to invite Savannah here.

“Where are your dates?” Victor asks.

“Didn’t bring one,” Travis answers a little sullenly.

“Mine is meeting me here in a bit,” I say.

He gives Travis a look I can’t quite decode, and I get the feeling he was hoping we’d bring along dates that match our social status so he could invite them to preview the club.

I like Victor, but I get the feeling his main objective in life is making money.

Shit, he’ll really like my date, then, since they share the same goal.

I should warn him not to invite her to Coax, but before I get the chance to say anything, he says, “You haven’t been to the club recently. Why not?”

I lift a shoulder. “I’ve spent the off-season out of town.”

“You’re here now, though,” he points out.

“Right, for OTAs. We’re expected to be at workouts, and I’m usually pretty beat by the end of the day,” I say. It sounds an awful lot like an excuse, particularly given the fact that my teammates are probably still showing up, but I don’t really care. It’s my truth.

“You’ll come by after tonight’s event, yes?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, sir. I think I’d like to cancel my membership.”

He gasps, clearly surprised, as if once you’re in you’d never even so much as dream of getting out.

“I’m certain Jade can change your mind,” he says, and he flicks a finger in the air. Less than three seconds later, a woman sidles up beside me, her tits pushing into my arm. “Meet Jade.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, feeling very uncomfortable. It appears Victor is the one running the show over on this side. I’m trying to believe it’s because he’s gravitating to us as members of his club. I look around and see lots of other celebrities here who aren’t members of Coax, and it’s only then I realize I know very little about this charity event.

Is it actual charity? Or are Troy and Victor just raising money and expanding membership for the club?

Hard to tell.

“And you,” she says.

“Travis, I have a girl for you as well.” He flicks another finger. “Meet Raven.”

Her tits are up against his arm, too, and I can’t quite tell what we’re supposed to do with all this. Are they members of Coax? It’s been a while since I’ve been there.

A flashbulb goes off in my face, and I realize I’ll be splashed on the tabloids with Jade on my arm tomorrow.

“I’m so sorry, Jade, but I do have a date meeting me here shortly. If you’ll excuse me.” I beeline toward the bar, ditching Travis who already seems preoccupied with Raven… and Jade, whose tits are now pressed to his other arm.

Whatever he was being quiet about earlier…he seems okay now.

I head out to the lobby to wait for Savannah, not totally sure I’m doing the right thing here. But we’re in public and at a charity event. I hardly think she’ll make a scene at such a high-profile event.

She walks in, and it’s funny how I used to think she was so beautiful…because now all I can see is the ugliness that resides within. Lies, manipulation, and causing pain are the things that keep her going.

Her eyes seem to shift from the coolness of entering a room full of unknown people into warmth as she spots me. She strides across the room, her gait obviously showing her level of confidence, and she stops just in front of me.

“Looking handsome as always, Mr. Higgins,” she says.

“Thanks,” I murmur, refusing to return the compliment even though on the surface, she does look gorgeous. I force myself to draw her into a quick embrace, kissing her cheek as I do in an attempt to show civility in public. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Already down to business. Can’t we have some fun first?”

I force a chuckle. “Of course.”

We head into the banquet room, and I introduce her to Victor simply as my date rather than giving her the complicated titles she deserves. My ex-wife. The bane of my existence. The master manipulator who ruins lives.

What the fuck am I doing?

I walk over to the bar with her, and she orders a glass of wine while I grab a refill. I spot several retired baseball players I’ve seen at the club before, and they’re all talking to Cooper Noah, the retired player I met at Ben Olson’s Big D Bash.

“Let’s dance,” she suggests, and I offer her my elbow as I escort her to the dance floor. The slow tempo of the song forces me to take her in my arms, and I can’t quite act good enough. I’m thankful I’m holding a drink in one hand and she is, too, because I’m having a hard time being this close to her. I’m not drunk enough for this.

And that sparks an idea. She always had looser lips after a few glasses of wine, and so I set out to get her drunk. I chug my whiskey and set the glass down on a table nearby, and the buzz is just starting to cloud over me. She finishes her first glass, too, and I walk her back toward the bar for another before we return to the dance floor.

“We had some good times together, didn’t we?” I ask once we’re dancing to a more up-tempo song and I’m no longer forced to hold her close.

She offers a small smile. “A lot of good times. Don’t downplay what we shared.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

She’s sipping her wine too slowly.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” I finally ask again.

She clears her throat. “I just wanted to reiterate that I really was looking out for you, Tris. I always wanted our relationship to be mutually beneficial. It wasn’t just about me marrying into the league again so I could get locker room access. That was a byproduct of falling in love with you, and I promised you before we were married that I would make you a household name. I promised I would always fight for you. And I promised I would give you the truth no matter how hard it was to hear.”

I nod. She did promise me those things, but I never imagined in a million years that she would take it so far as to investigate people from my past.

But for as horrible as she is, she’s also incredibly savvy. She must’ve known somewhere, somehow, that Tessa was always in my heart even though I never so much as spoke her name to Savannah. And that gut feeling of hers was enough for her to take a deep dive into Tessa’s history.

The way she held onto it until it was convenient for her is a different story. The fact is that she told me she’d give me the truth, and when it was a good time for her, she did.

I wish she hadn’t done it on my wedding day to Tessa, but I’m still glad I know.

I tell her that.

“Thank you for telling me,” I say softly.

Damn, that whiskey’s working quick.

“Someone had to,” she says, her tone matching mine. She tips her chin up. She’s in heels, which puts her a little closer to my height, but she still has to stand on tiptoes to brush her lips across mine.

I jerk back out of her grasp.

Fuck no.

Not for all the goddamn whiskey in the world.