about, but whatever it was, he knew that was a great response. Emory wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, then walked towards her bedroom, yelling back to Wesley, “That means go to your sister’s wedding!”
* * *
Mason was not a high profile NFL player and never carried himself that way. He never flaunted his money, which was relatively modest by NFL standards. He was not one to drive fancy cars or buy expensive jewelry or live in a huge mansion on acres of land. Sure, he could afford some of those luxuries, and liked them, but found no pleasure in sharing those things with Alexis. When she complained, as she often did, that he was too cheap, it made him happy. As much as he could, Mason didn’t want her to overly enjoy the trappings of an NFL lifestyle.
His flight to Seattle from Charlotte, while ridiculously long, was a treat. The Seahawks had put Mason in first class. He sat in an aisle seat, on the left side of the cabin, the sling holding his right arm slightly extending into the aisle. The leather seat was nice, and so were the drinks and extra room. Still, he had to contort his long muscular legs to squeeze within the confines of his area.
A young flight attendant with a cute smile and tight uniform worked the first class section, paying Mason special attention each time she brought him a drink. He was pleasant to her, but his mind was filled with visions of Emory in a red lace bra and panties on a pool table. When will I get that chance again ? He hated she left at midnight, and that he was now flying across the country. They had so much more to catch up on after six years. He missed her already.
The plane touched down. After a few moments on the runway, the cute attendant grabbed the intercom, giving permission to the passengers to use their electronic devices. Mason reached for his phone in his pocket, and the plane jerked as it made a turn towards the gate, causing Mason to fumble his phone into the aisle. He had no chance to reach it, with his right arm in the sling. The cute attendant rushed to his aid and bent down in the aisle, holding her position to give Mason a clear view of her assets. After a moment, she came up smiling, handing the phone to him. Mason politely thanked her, and she glided back to her seat.
But Mason had no time for her. He wanted to find out quickly whether Emory had responded to his text. He pressed the power button on his phone, seeming to take an eternity to come on. The plane continued towards the gate, as his phone came to life. The plane stopped at the gate, and the seatbelt light turned off. He saw he had a message. I recall you like slow SUCKS... Text me when you land.
Mason unbuckled and stood up from his seat, smiling widely, then walked past the cute attendant to exit the plane. She smiled, too, but Mason ignored her, reading Emory’s text over and over again. As he walked down the jetway, he typed his response. Naughty girl. Just landed . Mason strolled into the gate, still smiling and looking at his phone, walking right by Steven, as he hit send.
“Hey, dumb ass,” Steven said, grabbing Mason’s good arm to slow him down.
Mason looked up. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” He gave his older brother a sideways hug, then they walked through the Seattle airport together.
“What’s so interesting about your phone?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Her name wouldn’t happen to be Emory, would it?”
Mason shrugged, but couldn’t hold back a huge grin, giving himself away.
“This is a business trip,” Steven said. “We need to get serious.”
“OK.” Mason chuckled, then veered into Steven’s path, bumping into him.
Steven shoved his brother away. “Dude, what the hell?”
“I’m sorry, man.” Mason steadied himself, then tried to walk straight.
“Have you been drinking?”
“Just a little. It was a long flight. And it’s been
* * *
Mason was not a high profile NFL player and never carried himself that way. He never flaunted his money, which was relatively modest by NFL standards. He was not one to drive fancy cars or buy expensive jewelry or live in a huge mansion on acres of land. Sure, he could afford some of those luxuries, and liked them, but found no pleasure in sharing those things with Alexis. When she complained, as she often did, that he was too cheap, it made him happy. As much as he could, Mason didn’t want her to overly enjoy the trappings of an NFL lifestyle.
His flight to Seattle from Charlotte, while ridiculously long, was a treat. The Seahawks had put Mason in first class. He sat in an aisle seat, on the left side of the cabin, the sling holding his right arm slightly extending into the aisle. The leather seat was nice, and so were the drinks and extra room. Still, he had to contort his long muscular legs to squeeze within the confines of his area.
A young flight attendant with a cute smile and tight uniform worked the first class section, paying Mason special attention each time she brought him a drink. He was pleasant to her, but his mind was filled with visions of Emory in a red lace bra and panties on a pool table. When will I get that chance again ? He hated she left at midnight, and that he was now flying across the country. They had so much more to catch up on after six years. He missed her already.
The plane touched down. After a few moments on the runway, the cute attendant grabbed the intercom, giving permission to the passengers to use their electronic devices. Mason reached for his phone in his pocket, and the plane jerked as it made a turn towards the gate, causing Mason to fumble his phone into the aisle. He had no chance to reach it, with his right arm in the sling. The cute attendant rushed to his aid and bent down in the aisle, holding her position to give Mason a clear view of her assets. After a moment, she came up smiling, handing the phone to him. Mason politely thanked her, and she glided back to her seat.
But Mason had no time for her. He wanted to find out quickly whether Emory had responded to his text. He pressed the power button on his phone, seeming to take an eternity to come on. The plane continued towards the gate, as his phone came to life. The plane stopped at the gate, and the seatbelt light turned off. He saw he had a message. I recall you like slow SUCKS... Text me when you land.
Mason unbuckled and stood up from his seat, smiling widely, then walked past the cute attendant to exit the plane. She smiled, too, but Mason ignored her, reading Emory’s text over and over again. As he walked down the jetway, he typed his response. Naughty girl. Just landed . Mason strolled into the gate, still smiling and looking at his phone, walking right by Steven, as he hit send.
“Hey, dumb ass,” Steven said, grabbing Mason’s good arm to slow him down.
Mason looked up. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” He gave his older brother a sideways hug, then they walked through the Seattle airport together.
“What’s so interesting about your phone?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Her name wouldn’t happen to be Emory, would it?”
Mason shrugged, but couldn’t hold back a huge grin, giving himself away.
“This is a business trip,” Steven said. “We need to get serious.”
“OK.” Mason chuckled, then veered into Steven’s path, bumping into him.
Steven shoved his brother away. “Dude, what the hell?”
“I’m sorry, man.” Mason steadied himself, then tried to walk straight.
“Have you been drinking?”
“Just a little. It was a long flight. And it’s been
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