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I caught it and snapped it back just as hard.
"You're going to have to get up earlier to get the Bam-man off guard." This late in the season, I was on top of my game. We all were, but where would be the fun in not giving my teammates hell every practice?
"How's things with Grace?" Chase asked just as he threw again.
Shit. I fumbled the ball and almost dropped it.
Chase laughed. "That early enough for you?"
I gave him a dirty look and focused on throwing as Coach Quinn walked by.
The coach looked pissed, but he always did. He was probably born with a cranky expression on his face. He looked even angrier when he was watching Hawk. For some reason none of us managed to figure out, he didn't seem to like the quarterback. Maybe because Hawk was so much cooler and better looking than him.
On the other hand, he'd really hate me if that was the case. When it came to cool and good looks, I left the other guys in the dust.
Except maybe Ollie. What? I have an ego, but a guy has to be realist once in a while.
"It's way too early to talk about her," I said once the coach was safely past.
"Things didn't go well last night then?" Chase asked.
I shrugged and pressed my lips together. I didn't want to talk about last night. Or Grace. Or anything to do with this rehab they decided my career needed. I doubt anyone even missed me at the event. I made a big donation, so they couldn't say I hadn't helped out. I did my bit. Just not exactly how they wanted me to. If they didn't like it?—
I caught sight of Coach Quinn on his phone, his scowl turned toward me. He said a few things to the person on the other end and his eyes narrowed. He looked even more pissed than usual. Who knew that was even possible? Hell, you learn something every day.
"Looks like you're gonna have to talk about it." Chase grinned like a brother who wanted to say, 'Oooh, you're in trouble,' and stick out his tongue where Mum couldn't see it.
I curled my lip at him. "Just 'cause he's looking this way doesn't mean it's about me. He could be talkin' 'bout you. You get a speeding ticket this time?"
I've seen Chase's driving and motorcycle riding, when the police weren't looking. Leadfoot McKinney, that was him.
"Shit no," he replied. "I'm the perfect rider on the roads." He was more than a bit obsessed with his motorbike. He had it almost as hard for the machine as he did for Ashley.
"You're full of crap," I said cheerfully. I kept half an eye on Coach, who put his phone away and stalked toward us.
"I'll leave you and Coach to it," I said when he got close enough. I took a step away, but Coach Quinn fixed his angry eyes on me.
"Carson Thomas wants to speak to you after practice," he said. "He's flying back from the Whitsundays as we speak. You better hope he calms down on the way, or your ass is toast."
In the corner of my eye I saw Chase pull a face. For once, he wasn't laughing. He actually looked worried about me. Me. As if I couldn't take care of myself.
"Sure, Coach. I'll smooth things over. No stress." I gave him my best smile.
He responded with a sceptical look, but nodded and turned away.
"That didn't sound good." Hawk finished his practice with the quarterback coach and jogged over to us.
"Nothin' I can't handle." I didn't feel that confident on the inside, but I wasn't going to show any fear. Just like on the field during a game. You had to ooze confidence. Show you're rattled and they'll be all over you like a cheap pair of socks or a bad tie. Who was I kidding, all ties are bad. Whose idea was it to have people strangle themselves just for style? High heeled shoes I got. They made women's legs look?—
"Practice isn't over," Hawk reminded me. "Maybe we should work on a few tackles. You don't want to take any aggression into the meeting with the boss."
"How did you—" I frowned at him.
"I heard from across the field," Hawk said. "I think most of us did."
I swore under my breath a few times. Wasn't this bad enough without everyone knowing my business?
I drew myself up. "It's not a big deal. Come on, let's get back to work."
