“Yes, humor me.”

“I’ve known you all your life, Jake, and when your phone calls get sporadic that means that something is going on. Besides, you didn’t participate in this week’s football blog. It’s not often that you put a C-spot on the line in the betting pool and then don’t show up on the chat for some trash talk when your team wins.”

“I told y’all that the Chiefs were coming back,” Jake replied, knowing that he’d bet on a team that in a lot of fans’ minds was still a big question mark. “The new quarterback is on point, and their line is solid.”

“Yeah, yeah, who asked you?” Harold said, still smarting from his loss. “Just be ready to give me back my money when Vick takes the field next week.”

“Vick is washed up,” Jake responded. “So get ready to give me some more of your cash.”

“Don’t start counting my dollars yet, bro. But what I really want to know is why you were MIA tonight. Your girl got you so sprung that you can’t hang out with the fellas?”

My girl. Jake all but snorted at Dominique’s fitting that definition. Because, without exception, Dominique Clark was the most stubborn, opinionated, strong-willed woman that he’d ever met. Which is what so exasperated him, and turned him on. She was also the warmest, smartest, most titillating woman he’d ever known. Which is what further exasperated him, and turned him on. She hadn’t stayed after the game on Saturday and hadn’t called, and when he’d finally given in to his desires and phoned her on Sunday, she’d informed him that she’d be spending the day in LA, with her family. Jake had thought about contacting one of his old hookups, had even toyed with the idea of calling the reporter who’d given him her cell number. But in his mind, none of the substitutes could replace the original. He wanted Dominique. He needed to sex her a few more times, get her totally out of his system. And then he needed to move on to someone who was more his speed, someone who in his mind wasn’t trying to take the pants off of him and wear them.

“Did you hear what I said, Jake?”

“Oh, sorry, man. I got distracted.”

“I asked what you were betting on next week’s game.”

“Another hundred, might as well not stop while I’m on a roll.” Jake looked at the clock. “I need to run, Harold, and make a phone call.”

“To Dominique?”

“No, the Raiders. The front office called me today. I need to see what’s up. And thanks for calling, Harold. I love you like a brother.”

“I am your brother, fool.”

Jake laughed.