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“You coming?” Nolan asks.
I grin. “Definitely.”
CHAPTER TWO
Austin
Carmella’s is packed.
It seems like everyone who’s anyone in San Antonio is here.
We walk past the huge line and the bouncer lets us in—perks of being a Hyena.
There are beautiful women everywhere.
They’re not like the girls from back home.
I make eye contact with a girl in a small black dress. She looks airbrushed. Her tits are impossibly high and hard, and her face looks like it took all afternoon to be painted on. She’s wearing these crazy high heels and every strand of her hair is perfectly in place.
You’d never see a girl like that walking down the streets in the small town I came from. People in Michigan would think she was an alien.
I can’t even imagine what my family would think if I brought a girl like that back home for Christmas dinner.
She gives me a blank stare as I walk with the boys to the VIP section.
“This place is crazy,” Nolan says as he puts both hands on my shoulders as we walk in. “It’s good to be a star!”
“Yeah,” I say with a grin.
It is good to be a star. Everywhere we go, we’re treated like royalty. We drink ten thousand dollar bottles of champagne and beautiful women flock to us like we’re gods.
We hang out with professional athletes and celebrities, it’s awesome.
Although, if I’m being honest with myself, it’s not that great.
It’s costing me a fortune. Sometimes those bills come and they’re in the six figures. I’m a rookie and I’m not making as much as some of these other guys. Nolan just signed a three-year contract for twenty-four million dollars. Many of the people in here are making tens of millions of dollars a year.
I got stuck with a bill the other night that was one hundred and thirty-two thousand dollars. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw it. I think that’s how much my parents paid for their house. My dad would have walloped me if he knew what I was spending on one night that wasn’t even that much fun.
I don’t like the music they play in places like this. I like guitars and raspy voices, not alien instruments that are playing off-key. And it’s so loud, you can barely hear anyone talk.
And the women… They’re beautiful, but it seems like they’re only around to drink our champagne and take pictures with us to put on their Instagram pages. I tried to talk to some of them, but they all kept asking me to take them shopping.
I’ve been more homesick than I thought I’d be. I miss the pub in my little town with the local bands playing and the dance floor where people actually dance and don’t care who’s watching. I miss my family and I miss the mountains. I miss the fall leaves and the snow. The feeling of skating on a frozen pond.
It’s always so hot here. This scorching desert air is brutal.
We move to the back of the VIP section and it’s full of basketball players, women, a couple of players from the football team, and more women.
Nolan orders a bottle of the most expensive champagne they have and I feel my throat tighten a little.
“I just bought a house,” he tells me as the waitress leaves.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll have a big party when it’s ready. I’m putting an ice rink in the basement.”
“Cool!”
