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He pushes his lips to the side and raises an eyebrow in disbelief.
My temper awakens, and he must see it. He sits down beside me. “Just call her and give her a heads up. It’s not a big deal. Give it a day or two, and people will move on.”
“I don’t have her number.” I shoot back a little louder than I intended, and one of the other guys looks in our direction.
Tyrell leans back. “You don’t have her number?” He says it like it's the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Man, she’s hot, so why not?”
“I told you, I barely know her. We spent time in the elevator, and then I saw her last night. That’s it.” I keep the few personal things we exchanged and all I witnessed with her parents to myself.
“Sounds to me like you know her at least a little if you know this isn’t her dream come true.”
I hang my head, trying to figure out what I need to do if anything. Maybe Andie doesn’t know about it and won’t.
“Your agent is going to love this.”
“Shit.” I rub my hand over my face. “He’s going to be blowing up my phone any minute. I don’t want him or anyone else involved in this. There isn’t anything to it.”
“Well,” he stands. “Maybe there should be. Maybe you should ask her out and then just let the story fly. It wouldn’t be a bad thing.”
“Dude, she lost her husband, and I’m not dating anyone. I have other things to focus on. I should be focusing on the game right now, not this.”
He nods and slaps me on the back. “You’re right. Good luck. I hope you get it figured out. See you in the meeting.”
He leaves the weight room, and my mind is spinning. I have no idea what to do about this, and I don’t have time to figure itout. Since dating Morgan, I haven’t had issues like this. I didn’t think about the potential of someone from last night posting pictures.
If I had Andie’s number, I’d text her and apologize. I can only hope this fades before it reaches her.
I check my phone, knowing I need to get to the meeting, but of course, I have messages.
MARK: Pic attached: Andie and me dancing.
MARK: Who dis? Going alone, my ass.
CRAIG: The National Anthem girl, really? What do you want me to do? Are you releasing a statement?
SHANE: Been a while since you brought the drama, bro.
MAGGIE: Seriously, why didn’t I know about this? Who is she?
Not responding to any of them, I put my phone in my pocket so I can sit through a meeting and try to focus on tomorrow’s game. I hope this all dies quickly and disappears into some other major news story.
______
I toss my jersey to the floor. I made it through practice, but not without the guys throwing jabs about me taking over social media. My good mood and positive outlook have tanked, and I just want to go home and sit in my hot tub. Why anybody cares about what I do with my personal life, I’ll never understand.
The snickering around me continues, and I’ve had it.
“Seriously, what?” I growl as I shove my stuff in my bag, ready to ditch these fools who are clearly entertained by my misery.
Charles, one of our tight ends, walks over with his phone in his hand. “Man, I’m not sure you want to see this, but…”
I let out a breath, knowing I’ve had enough. He hands me his phone, and I see a picture of Morgan underneath a headline that claims I’ve been cheating on her.
I look at Charles and then back at the phone, wanting to throw it against the wall.
He holds up his hands. “Don’t kill the messenger.”
“Dude, this is messed up,” someone says from behind me. “Didn’t you break up with her, like forever ago?”
