Juked

I hate shopping on Saturday nights. But being the lazy ass I am on my off days, I didn't bother stocking the fridge before leaving on our last road trip. So now I'm out of everything from deodorant to milk.At least it's after midnight. That means fewer people in the store and boxes everywhere as employees stock the shelves. Boxes equal hiding places from unruly soccer fans.Not that there are many in this town compared to, say, football fans. But soccer fans are insane. Really insane. Soccer is the only sport where fans bring drums and horns to the stadium and play them through the entire game. The craziness at FIFA speaks for itself.As a forward and the team captain, when I do get recognized on the street, I tend to get mauled. Hence the need to hide behind boxes.Plus I'm having some trouble with my corner shot so I'm in a cranky-ass mood. God help the fan who tries to talk to me about it.As I'm grabbing a thirty-pack of Ozarka water on sale, I hear a screaming baby. Who the hell

The bleating of the alarm on my phone jars me from sleep.Fuck. I hate mornings. I especially hate mornings when I don't know where I am.I blink rapidly for a few seconds, looking around the room. Ah yes. Hotel room. Los Angeles.Blonde hair is splayed across the pillow next to me. I scan her from top to bottom. Flawless, porcelain skin, hourglass shape, nice-sized tits. LA certainly doesn't disappoint in the beautiful women department.Hmm. If I wasn't supposed to be in a van going to the airport in twenty minutes, I might think about a morning quickie. But coach would have my ass if I missed the flight home.I fling back the covers and get up, looking at the woman in my bed. Nice ass, too. I take a quick shower before packing my bags, making sure to put the dirty stuff on top for quick sorting when I get home.I clutch her phone and my wallet and take a quick glance around the room.Used condom in the trash can? Check.Credit cards still in my wallet? Check.Naked pics of me on her

Practice is a lot of fun lately. Why? The rookies. We're watching them closer than before. Pushing them more, forcing them to show what they're made of. It's awesome.There's a lot of trash talking by the veterans, and you can tell the newbies are scared as shit. They have no idea where they stand, so they should be. Will they be benched for the next several seasons? Will they be practice players only? Will they be the next starter or even the next star? No one knows.One of them stands out among the rest, though. Rowen Flanigan. The kid is probably six one, so he is already on the tall side for a soccer player. His bright red hair, seriously white skin, and bright green eyes draw attention. If his name wasn't a dead giveaway about his Irish heritage, his looks would be.But that's not the only reason he stands out. The kid is a machine. As a draftee straight out of college, not only is he keeping up with the veterans, it looks like he may run circles around our current starting right

"So how's it going with the baby?"Laurie, our caseworker from the Department of Family and Protective Services, sits with me on the couch in my apartment. Her kind smile is non-threatening. I like her. I feel like she has our best interests at heart. She's visited with us a couple of times over the last month, and I always enjoy talking with her.While I had been granted emergency custody of Chance the night of the accident, there is still a long road ahead of us. In order to obtain permanent custody or adopt, the state still has to do a complete home study, I have to take some parenting classes, and a few other things have to be processed to get through the red tape.They're still looking for Chance's biological father, because the law requires it, but Laurie assured me they weren't having any more luck than I was. That will make the entire process a lot faster since I'm Chance's only blood relative, which I am grateful for. Laurie is a really nice woman and seems to really want to h

Quincy shakes her head in humorous disbelief. "I swear this kid has the constitution of a grown man."I bark a laugh as Quincy holds her nose and says, "Ohmygod, Chance, what did they feed you at day care?""Come on," I say, pushing past her and pulling her cart to drag it behind me. "Let's go over to that bench and get him cleaned up. There is no way anyone wants you to let that smell permeate through the store."She follows me over to the same bench we sat on before and unstraps the baby from the carrier while I spread the changing pad out on the bench and pull out a diaper and some wipes."How old is he now?" I ask as she sets him down gently and undresses him from the waist down. He looks up at me, and I'm sure he's trying to figure out why I look upside down. He smiles and reaches for my face when I lean down to talk to him and keep him distracted from the mess his fingers could be getting in down below."Four and a half months," she says as she grabs him by the ankles and hauls h