TUESDAY TALES - "CRUSH"

Howdy! Welcome. This week the word prompt is "crush." I am posting another, unedited excerpt from Skip Quincy, Shortstop -- a new book in the Bottom of the Ninth series. 
A little background...
In this excerpt, the New York Nighthawks are getting ready to meet the Washington Wolverines in the best of five playoff series. They've just finished their workout and are chowing down before the game. This scene takes place in the dining room. 

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Sweat soaked Skip’s T-shirt. He stopped to down a bottle of water, then got on the bike for some cardio. Feeling his body perform, work, stretch, grow stronger stoked his fires. Each session readied him more and more for the contest with the Washington, D.C., Wolverines. Play-offs were next week. He’d be ready, as always.

The men took a break. There was a buffet spread for lunch in their dining room. Bobby got behind Skip in line.

“What happened to that Banner chick? You didn’t bring her last night.”

“Right. I’m taking her out tonight.”

“Big night?” Bobby nudged him in the ribs and wiggled his eyebrows.

“None of your beeswax, jerkoff.”

“Just thinkin’ it might be nice if you got a little, for a change.”

“I’m gettin’ plenty.”

“Yeah? From who?” Bobby picked up a plate.

“None of your damn business.”

“Not from Francie?” Bobby’s voice rose.

“No way. She’s like my little sister.” Skip speared a piece of ham and put it on his dish.

“Good. Leave her alone.”

“Says you?”

“Yeah. She’s too nice for you.”

“Fuck off. I’ll go out with whoever I want.”

“She’s get enough problems, without you messing up her head with your dick.”

“That’s weird, buddy. Very weird.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Okay, okay. But if she wants me, who am I to say ‘no’?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole.”

“She was comin’ on pretty strong last night.”

“School girl crush.”

“She may be goin’ to school, but she’s no schoolgirl.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hell, she’s twenty-six.”

“So?”

“Back off, Bobby. She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”

“As long as you stay away from her brother, I’m good.”

“It’s none of your business.”

The two men had filled their plates to overflowing with ham, roast beef, baked potatoes, brussel sprouts and salad. They took their places at the table.

“If you think I’m such a bad guy, why don’t you sit somewhere else?” Skip scowled at his friend.

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy. But Francie is Elena’s best friend.”

“Hey, I’m not about to hurt her. She’s fun. We have a good time, kidding around and stuff.”

“She flirts with you.”

“So do a lot of women. Doesn’t mean anything,” Skip said, slicing his meat. 

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