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I laugh, and his bright blue eyes form slits as they drag up to mine. It takes everything in me not to reach across the tableand pry them open with my fingers because glaring Sean doesn’t feel authentic. I know there’s a smug smirk in there somewhere instead.
“Yes, I think we should touch base with Miranda, and you can deal with your agent if you want, but I’m warning you. I don’t give two diddly dos what he thinks or wants.”
“Fine. I imagine Miranda will want to meet soon to begin planning on her end and report to Mr. McNeil.”
I close my notebook and put it back in my purse. “Sure.” Sean gathers his keys and phone, but I stop him just before he stands. “Hey. What we’re doing is personal. We aren’t doing this to polish your image, and let’s be real. It won’t make the lies about us disappear. What Craig or anyone else wants doesn’t matter. This is you and me giving back. So, if he doesn’t like it, that’s just too damn bad.”
His mouth curves upward, and I see recognition that his words didn’t go wasted on me today.
Chapter 19
SEAN
“Hey, man.” I slap Tyrell’s hand as we cross paths in the hallway of the practice facility. I’ve been here since early this morning, and I’m ready to go home where I can be alone and away from the depressing mess that has become my life.
These past few days have been filled with me dodging the media as much as possible and trying not to take offense to some of my so-called friends and teammates treating me like the lying, cheating bastard Morgan has convinced everyone I am.
The attitude and disbelief of my teammates have been the hardest to comprehend. I know some of their wives and girlfriends are friends with Morgan, but I thought they knew me better. Apparently, I was wrong.
Tyrell has done his best to keep me focused and away from the cold shoulders in the locker room, but even his exuberant positivity and constant upbeat demeanor can only stretch so far. Some things just are what they are, and today, I feel like I want to crawl into a hole and stay there.
“Where are you headed? I figured you’d be out of here by now. You need to rest.” He points to my elbow, wrapped with an ice pack around it. “That’s not looking good.”
He’s right. I need to get home. I just left the physical therapist who’s been working with me since I overextended my elbowlast game. It’s been bothering me all week, but it’s worse today. Forget the ice pack. What I really need is an ice bath. My whole body aches, and I wouldn’t mind feeling numb for a little bit.
If only it would work on my brain, too. My body took a beating last weekend against one of our rivals, but my mental state has been taking a nosedive for a while now.
“I have a meeting with Miranda about an event I’m working on with Andie. She and Craig thought it would help settle some of the negative press.” The press release went out, but the rumors continue to fly. I need this meeting to be short and get things rolling so I can go home.
Tyrell nods. “Huh? So this involves you spending time with Andie.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that, man. It’s pure business, and we hope something good comes from this mess.”
“Well, let me know what’s up. If I can make it, I’m in.”
That makes me think about what Andie said about visiting the kids at the hospital. “What do you think about making some time for the kids at the children’s hospital on our day off?”
“Yeah. I’m down. Those kids would rather see this face than your ugly mug, anyway.” His white teeth shine against his dark skin. “Does this also have to do with Miss Andie?” I ignore him, and his punk-ass grin grows even wider like he knows something I don’t. He slaps me on the back. “Well, good luck with the meeting. Rest up. We need you to be one hundred percent this weekend.”
I salute, and he laughs as I turn to find the meeting room Miranda sent me. I haven’t talked to Andie since the coffee shop, where I divulged more personal information than intended. I don’t talk about my childhood with anyone except Shane and Mark, and even then, we don’t talk about it often.
I also didn’t mean to share details of my relationship with Morgan or really lack thereof, but her comment about not fitting the mold of my world sent my temper soaring.
The idea that anyone, but for some reason, specifically Andie, thinks they don’t fit into my life because of how they look, their profession, or where they come from, set me off. I’m a guy whose very existence came from trauma and horror, and I’m beginning to think Andie is exactly the kind of person I should surround myself with. But I don’t deserve that kind of honest friendship with how I’ve been living and acting.
I didn’t intend to share any of that with Andie, but she sat and listened. She may have made light of it, but on some level, I felt like she understood. It was like she knew talking about the personal details of my life was not something I was comfortable with. She took my uneasiness, tossed it up in the air, and let it float back down gently, reminding me that I don’t have to live like that anymore.
I turn the corner of a short hallway and find Andie leaning against the wall. She’s holding her phone close to her face, frowning, with her lips pushed to the side. Her long, curly, dark brown hair is tied back loosely. She’s wearing holey jeans and a black and red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. In this facility, she sticks out like a sore thumb, and it’s…refreshing.
“Hey. What’s up?” I rest up against the wall beside her, wondering what she’s so focused on. I really hope it’s not more pics or comments about us. It just won’t stop.
She side-eyes me and then returns to her phone. “I need a five-letter word that starts with ‘F’ and ends with an ‘E’ for a triple word score. I have an ‘A,’ a ‘U,’ ‘R,’ ‘K,’ and a ‘C.’ If I hit this, Gem will go bananas.”
“What?” She tips her phone in my direction, and I see what looks like a Scrabble board.
“Gem says she needs to keep her mind sharp. She usually beats the pants off me. I’m determined to win this round if it takes me the next year to figure out a word.” She gestures to the door next to her. “There’s a meeting still going on in there. Where’s your keeper?”
“He’ll be here any minute, I’m sure.” I study the letters on her phone. “Flake.”
