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He doesn’t finish his statement as I stare at him. I’m not sure, but my mouth might be hanging open. I’m speechless, and I’m never caught without words. When I pull my mind back from the brink of being blown to pieces, I have to ask, “You were a foster kid?”
He adjusts the cap on his head before resting his arms on the table. “Yeah, until I aged out. I moved into a group home as a teen but was shuffled between homes before that. Not many people know that, though.”
I don’t even know what to do with this information. I can tell he’s ready to be done answering questions, but I can’t stop. “So…you don’t have any family?” I have a thousand questions running through my mind, but for some reason, this one floats to the top.
He rests back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest like he’s guarding himself from an interrogation. “No, but I have two brothers. Two guys I lived with in the group home. One is married with a son, and they’re raising his wife’s youngersiblings. The other lives in New York City. They’re my family, but that’s it.”
I have to sit for a minute, letting this sink in. This in no way makes sense…or maybe it does. Sean Greyson is a foster kid. I need to peel back the layers of that for a second.
“So…what do you think?” He breaks into my rapid-fire attempt to piece things together. “Craig isn’t going to like it, but–”
I cut him off right there. “Does Craig dictate your whole life?
“Not everything.” I see his honesty. “Does Nora run yours?”
“Nope. She helps keep me organized, but I make the decisions.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not how it works for me. My life is not my own sometimes, especially during the season. Team management, sponsors, fans…they’re all a factor. Craig’s job is to keep it all running smoothly.”
That sounds oddly similar to my life with my parents, although I didn’t have someone trying to run interference.
“Sounds fun,” I say, feeling just a little sad he lets his life be run by other people. “Did Craig arrange your relationship with Morgan, too?”
Sean pulls back slightly at my question, his fingers running over his jaw like he has to think about it. Now, I want to know if that jerk pushed Morgan on him because of how good they look together.
“He did, didn’t he?” I can’t even hide my irritated shock. “He sure lowered his bar, allowing you to work with me. I definitely don’t fit the mold. He’s probably off, pacing somewhere, worried I’m ruining your image.”
Sean’s brows pinch together, a crease forming between his eyes. “I think my image could stand some improvement. I’m not sure if you noticed at the game, but all of the women look…similar?”
“Well, it must not have bothered you. They’re all freakishly beautiful. Isn’t that what Morgan is, an influencer-turned-model?” I’m not sure why I care about this, but I do. Maybe it’s because I’ve been pulled into this by simply being near this man for longer than a second.
He leans forward, resting his muscled forearms on the table. “Andie, it’s my fault you’re involved in this, so I should be clear about something. Craig may have introduced Morgan to me, but I dated her for the past two years. And by dated, I mean I saw her maybe a handful of times a month at the most. When we were together, it was usually a quick dinner before I had to get to bed or attend an event where we went our separate ways to talk to different people. Rarely, she came over to watch a game or hang out with friends. That was it. All this stuff she’s spreading around is false.”
He pauses but doesn’t take his eyes off me, an energy in them that tells me I hit a nerve.
“My life and schedule are not my own, which is an issue I’m working on. Morgan clearly thought we were dating, but not by my definition, and I should have broken it off with her long before I did. That superficial, unattached life doesn’t work for me anymore. Everything from women who look a certain way because they think they fit my life to people telling me what to do and who to be. I’m done with it, but change takes time, and I’m doing what I can.”
He sits back in his seat like he’s finally satisfied. “Andie, I’m pretty sure there isn’t a mold you’d fit into, and that is a compliment in the highest regard.”
There are just too many little revelations in that speech for me to fully process right now, but what I know is the look on Sean’s face tells me he’s seriously pissed about how things are. There’s nothing like finally having had enough to shove you offthe ledge. I wonder exactly what it was for Sean that did it, but that’s a question for another day.
He and I are two very different people, but in the last few minutes, I’ve realized we have some things in common. If doing this event is part of him getting more of his life back, there’s even more reason to do it.
I jot down a few notes so we can lay something out for Miranda, giving him a moment to chill out. He looks all riled up like I took a hot poker to a fresh wound.Why does that make me want to smile?
I set my pen down and find him staring at me. “I think foster families would be awesome.” I roll my lips to keep them from betraying me.
Apparently, I’m unsuccessful.
His head falls back, and he groans at the ceiling. “Andie, you’re infuriating. What in the hell is amusing about what I just told you?”
I’m not blind to the level of emotions rolling through Sean at the moment. I also know he’s likely used to being surrounded by people who never notice the man who exists underneath. They only want surface-level Sean.
I understand what it’s like to live feeling like no one ever actually sees you or cares enough to find out who you really are. So, in solidarity, I’ll ease his tortured, vulnerable soul. I know he gave me just a little bit of himself today, and I don’t take that lightly.
“Nothing…” I tap my lips with my pen, trying to contain the grin that’s desperate to escape. “I’m just not sure what to make of that verbal vomit. I didn’t know you had that in you. I’m impressed.”
He hangs his head. “Alright. Are we done here?”
