Free Homestands (Chicago Wind #1) by Sally Bradley

“What?”
    Mike shook his head.
    Brett picked a corner table, and Mike seated himself across from Will, his back to the crowd. This wasn’t so bad, a night out instead of room service. Mike flipped through the menu, even though he’d filled up on the post-game meal.
    A new song started, the music pounding against him. Mike ordered a drink and leaned back in his chair. What was Meg up to tonight? Had she and Terrell seen his signal? He’d debated calling on pretense of making sure but decided not to. No telling how Meg would react.
    At least she couldn’t throw frozen yogurt through a satellite.
    Someone nudged him. “Connor. Wake up.”
    “Hmm?” He looked up at his friends and then at the waitress standing beside their table.
    She set his drink and another in front of him. “This is from one of the women at the bar.”
    Without thinking, Mike looked over his shoulder.
    The three women had moved to the bar and watched him. One smiled, her dark, silky hair falling over her shoulder. She crossed her legs, raising the glass in her hand.
    Will chuckled and kicked him under the table, but Mike turned his back on the woman. He felt sick. “No. Thanks.” He shook his head and watched the drink disappear, leaving an incomplete wet ring on the table.
    Another reason to stay close to his hotel. Like he needed reminders of Brooke. Mike rubbed his hand over his eyes and forehead. What an ugly year that had been. Life had taken on a grimy, sandy feel since then.
    “What was that?” Will leaned across the table. “Did you see her?”
    “Not interested.”
    “Really.” Will pushed his chair back, the legs scraping the floor. “Maybe I’ll buy her a drink. Someone has to apologize for your behavior.”
    Mike shrugged. “It’s your life,” he said as Will disappeared past him.
    “You all right?” Brett asked.
    “I’m sick.” He toyed with his drink, realizing how true that was. He was sick of relationships that failed one after the other, sick of his thoughts returning to Meg like a magnet, sick of the way his conscience hounded him. And now that he knew where Meg was and that they had a son—
    Suing for custody flashed again in his mind.
    Mike sucked in a slow breath. No, he couldn’t go that route. If he forgave Meg, maybe she’d forgive him. And maybe then he’d feel okay again.
    Maybe.
    The waitress returned with their appetizers. Mike dragged triangle-cut French bread through Will’s spinach and artichoke dip. What was it about Meg that drew him? Even during his relationships after Brooke, he’d never been able to completely shake his feelings for Meg, and he’d often wondered how long it would take before her memory no longer haunted him.
    And Sara… She’d seen the truth he hadn’t. That it would never happen. Fifteen years from the first time he saw Meg, and he could still replay the moment. Even here, in a loud, crowded club. He pictured her walking into biology class seconds before the bell, approaching him, and sliding into the empty seat in front of him. Her long, wavy hair whirled out around her, and Mike fought the urge to lean into it.
    He’d never seen her before. Was she new? As roll call began, Mike listened for her name.
    Meghan Caldwell.
    Meghan. What a perfect name. Unique, gorgeous. Like her.
    He had to meet her.
    By the time Mike heard his name, Coach Patterson was glaring at him and emphasizing each syllable. “Michael Connor?”
    Around him kids snickered.
    “Are you here or not?” Coach Patterson asked.
    “Here,” he’d said. “Very glad to be here.”
    Brett’s voice broke into his thoughts. “What are you smiling at?”
    Mike moved his eyes from the wall behind Will’s chair to his teammates, feeling the dopey expression on his face. “What?”
    “What’s up with you?” Travis asked.
    “Nothing.” Standing, he pulled out his wallet, grabbed some money, and dropped it on the table. “Will you take care of this?”
    “Sure. Where you going?”
    “To the