"How's the hangover?" I ask as Eric gets to the kitchen island.

He groaned and frowned, so I laughed and pulled a plate out of the microwave and put it in front of him. Steak and eggs. I also grab him a Gatorade and a glass of water.

"Thanks," he gave a shit smile, I laughed some more. "Why don't you ever drink with me, suffer the morning after with me."

"Hah, no thank you."

"You're so not any fun," He yawned and rubbed his face. 

"I'm the one that had to take care of you and make sure you don't make an ass of yourself in public while drunk. Mom texted me saying congratulations, you should thank her."

"Why would mom tell you congrats?" He snorted slightly with a dopey smile.

"Cause she knows you're drunk off your ass and won't be responding," I laugh and sit next to him.

Eric nodded and started shoveling food into his mouth, acting like he'd never eaten before. His hand went to the back of my neck, and he gave it a gentle squeeze in appreciation. He quickly chugged both drinks, me reminding him not to go too fast or he could vomit. He whined at me not to parent him.

--

He took longer to get dressed, so I walked into the room and told him about his schedule for the day. I was surprised to see him playing with the skin around his scar.

"Are you okay?"

"I had a dream, it was strange," He fiddled with it more, then looked up in the mirror and watched me with curiosity. He'd always fold in one brow when he was thinking too hard about something. 

"Oh, what was the dream?" I crossed my arms and leaned against the door, hoping it didn't have anything to do with last night.

"More of a memory I guess. Your dad picking up that vase and throwing it at you. I haven't thought about that for a while, so it was weird I'd dream about it."

I nodded slowly, "You've been stressed recently, it's gotta be that. Dont overthink it. Finish getting dressed."

"Actually, could you come here?" he asked with a smile, so I walked over beside him. He placed his arm on my shoulder, staring at our reflections in the mirror with that same thinking gaze. Eventually, he snorted a laugh and let go of me. "Thank you. I'm done. You can go now."

I rolled my eyes, "God you're weird," I stepped back to the door and watched him pull out a polo and slip it on. "You've got a mag interview, it'll be short and quick, at a cafe I've requested special seating for. Then, tonight, I've scheduled your dinner with the rest of the marketing team. We'll be going over some boring stuff, getting you out there in the public image more, engaging with schools and kids."

"Engaging with kids is not boring," Eric rolled his eyes back at me. 

"The talking tonight is the boring part. And, I forbid you from drinking at the dinner tonight," I state and turn to go back to the kitchen.

"Why all of a sudden?" He followed me out and went to the door to get his team letterman jacket. The bright white and orange make his skin appear golden, I love it when he wears it.

"You were too much last night. That's all."

He huffed but nodded and agreed; not without mumbling under his breath about me being unfair. He followed me out to the car and into the passenger seat just like last night. It took some effort to keep last night in the past and not remember the hot makeout that happened here just a few hours back. I successfully pushed the memories to the back of my mind.

"Liam?"

"What's up?"

"What will those kids get out of this publicity stuff?"

"I don't think anything but extra funding for their schools. Why? They're kids, we can't pay them anything, but we can have them in commercials where their parents get financial support."

"That's not fair to the kids. Can we at least stop and get some toys to get them? Like, what's the age range here?"

"I don't know, there's no specific details yet, it was just a brief moment in the call. Let me worry about this stuff, just focus on smiling and being good."

"I'm always good."

"I beg to differ!"

"How have I not been good?" Eric gave a million-dollar smile, buying his innocence.

I rolled my eyes and paid attention to the road.

--

We entered the cafe and made our way to the back where the steps were. It's a cafe, but practically a restaurant, they've got more food than drinks. A note was on top of the table, Eric-Liam Reserved 1 PM. I had Eric sit, and I went to get us a menu for the magazine interviewer. I ordered Eric's usual, house cold brew with sugar-free creamer on the side. I got myself an iced americano with caramel drizzle. I also get Eric avocado toast. I make my way back to the table to see two people shaking Erics hand and introducing themselves. I set down our items and greet them myself. Laura the interviewer, and Zach the recorder. They ordered coffee, and we started the interview while Eric was munching away at his toast.

"We will be recording, but that's only so this conversation can go smoothly, without the odd breaks to write and jot down everything. Anything you don't want to put in, we won't put in. Is that okay?" Zach asked.

"That's fine," Eric nodded and started putting his creamer in the coffee.

"What is your training schedule like right now?" Laura reads off of her notepad.

"Roughly 4-5 hours a day for 6 days, my break is normally game day. I like to rest, meditate, and stretch the day of the game. Not usual for players, but I'm not trying to break myself on the court."

"You're jersey number, does 23 have a special meaning to you?"

"It's my lucky number. I felt like it was only right that I wear it; I even got it tattooed," Eric smiled and showed off the small tattoo of a date on his elbow.

"Why is that date so special to you?"

He grinned and shook his head, but he gave me a knowing side-eye. The date on his elbow was the day he protected me from my high parents. Not many knew the significance, and he didn't flaunt it either.

She started asking questions about his love life and his favorite brands, so I had to steer her back on the topic of his basketball career. After an exhausting 30 minutes of answering as many questions as possible, I got us out of there after paying the bill and giving a thank you to the two.

"That's the first time you've said that," I rub his shoulder as we get to the car. "The lucky number thing."

"Well, it's true, and she asked."

I nod and get us into the car. We head to his gym so he can start his training.