Mitchell's Power Play

Viking or James Bond

MITCHELL

When the first sorority party came around, Nash Reed was already a popular kid on campus. There were some of the older hockey players, most of the football team, and a couple of baseball players that also drew a hell of a lot of attention, but for being a freshman, Nash was it. Girls checked him out wherever he went, and he was constantly invited to parties. He brought me along, of course, because during that short time we'd become the best of friends. We had each other's back, both on the team and as roommates, and quite frankly I was the most content I'd ever been, even with the stress of having to make both good grades to keep the scholarship, and to fight for a spot on the team.

I know Nash hooked up back then. In fact, he left that first sorority party with a busty blonde, and based on the attention he got wherever he went he had every opportunity to get lucky, but I knew he didn't always take it. He spent more time hanging out with me, or the team, than he did with different girls. The rumors, however, had him as a serious player, and Nash didn't do much to fight it.

Whenever Nash did go with a girl she was usually tall and blonde. I realized after Nash and Kennedy began to date why that was. He'd always had a thing for her and all those girls he just fooled around with were the complete opposite to her petite frame and long dark hair.

I wasn't a player. Never had been, and still wasn't even though I'd tried to act like Nash and some of the other guys on the hockey team. I just had a problem hooking up with girls just for sex. It wasn't like I hadn't done it. I had. I was a man after all and long dry spells got to me just like every other guy, especially when the beautiful girls showed some interest in me. One thing would lead to another, but it was never something I'd been fully comfortable with, or something I set out to find. I much preferred to have a relationship to meaningless sex.

The bathroom was steamy after the hot shower I had just taken. I used the corner of the towel to wipe off the mirror so I could fix my hair. I stared at my image as I tried to figure out why all these thoughts were in my head now? Was it because I was going to turn twenty-seven in a few months and I was still single? I hadn't felt any pressure to settle down before, but then Nash hadn't been engaged. Now he was about to get married, and I was sharing my apartment with his soon-to-be brother-in-law. 

I cracked the door to let some of the steam out into the master bedroom and proceeded to get dressed. For some reason, my mind wouldn't stop spinning even though I tried to think of something, okay anything, other than my non-existing love life.

I was starting to get sick of the single life for sure. Living with Jackson wasn't really a hindrance since I didn't bring a lot of women here before he moved in, but now it was non-existent. It felt awkward to bring someone back to the apartment even though it shouldn't. It was my place after all. Not that I had that many prospects.... okay maybe there was one, but what I wanted was a real relationship and I knew that took time. Like what Nash and Kennedy had. True love. I may never say that out loud because the hockey mates may laugh me out of the building, but that was what Nash and Kennedy had, and what I wanted. I'd never seen Nash so happy before, and Kennedy really was a gem. She was perfect for him. It had been a beautiful yet challenging journey for them to get to this point, I knew that first hand, having been along for the entire ride as Nash's supporter, but if that was what it took to get the forever love, I was ready.

"Are you ready to go?" Jackson yelled from the kitchen.

I grinned at myself in the mirror. I guess I was ready for more than just dinner.

"Yeah, just about. Is the car already here?"

"In a minute."

After one last look in the bathroom mirror, I grabbed my keys and wallet and headed towards the door where Jackson was already waiting. He was dressed similarly to me in shorts and a three-button T-shirt. The only difference was that my shirt was blue with khaki shorts while Jackson's shirt was white and his shorts a checkered blue and green. We were going to meet Nash, Kennedy, Sammy, and Bryce at a restaurant downtown near the Brooklyn bridge. It was a new popular place that Sammy's friend, Baxter, had recommended. He knew the chef and had been able to get us a reservation.