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Leaving me standing there breathless, aching, and this side of terrified.
“He wants to help you?” Savannah—my best friend and partner in crime—asked a few hours later as I sat across from her at her kitchen table. She also happened to be in the professional athlete career, having grown up with a dad who happened to coach the Raptors’ NFL team. She’d gone into contract management, and currently did so for Charleston’s MLB team, the Hurricanes. “Like…what? Take you to certain places and talk you through it?”
I shrugged. “I think so?”
It had been a couple weeks since his offer, and I was still mentally battling what would be the best course of action.
Savannah smiled, leaning back in her chair. “Hell, that doesn’t sound too bad to me,” she said. “If it helps you, then I’m all for it. I mean, you’ve been wanting to work on it forever. This condition might be the push you need.”
“I know,” I said, sighing. And how had he realized that from just that small encounter with me? Had it been that obvious? Or could he just understand me on a level I wasn’t used to? “And I agreed because I have to get him to stop trying to pummel his brother every other second…”
“But,” she asked when I hadn’t continued.
“But I don’t really know him that well.” And I hated the truth in that statement. I’d known Maxim for two years, sure, but he was nothing like Sterling. Maxim was all dark flames where Sterling was a bright, blazing light—almost like a star.
“You want to, though,” she said, eying me. “Know him better.”
I nodded. I’d never lied to Savannah, and I wasn’t about to start now. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since that night,” I admitted. “Not that I want anything from him. Honestly, the last thing I need is a relationship with someone on my team.” I shook my head. “But…friends? I wouldn’t mind that.”
Savannah looked at me like she might argue. Like she might call me out on what she could likely read in my eyes. That my thoughts toward Sterling were anything but friendly. Her phone rang, and she scooped up her cell, rolling her eyes as she answered the call.
“Yes, Maddox?” She had that professional tone she’d adopted since becoming the contracts manager for the Charleston Hurricanes—one of the hottest MLB teams in the nation. She shook her head. “No, absolutely not.” She sighed. “Because it’s an effort to get wives inserted into contracts benefits. I will not draft a loophole where your flavor of the week are allowed to travel on the team bus with you.”
I covered my laugh with my hand.
“The answer is no,” she said again. “You’ll thank me later.” She ended the call, and I raised my brows at her.
“Trouble at work?” I teased.
She set down her phone. “Pro-athlete life,” she said. “Maddox Porter lives to make my life harder.”
“Hudson’s brother?” I asked, recognizing the name from one of my players on the Reapers. He was making this season his last before he retired.
“Yes,” she said. “I thought Hendrix was a playboy,” she said, and I smiled at the way her eyes lit up saying her boyfriend’s name. “But Maddox makes Hendrix’s history look like a Hallmark movie.” She shook her head. “He had the audacity to ask for his contract to include dates on the bus.” She rolled her eyes. “Last week, it was for unlimited box seat tickets for home games for anyone he chooses.”
I laughed, sipping the tea she’d made when I’d come over. “Sounds like he’s bored,” I said, and she nodded.
“He’s something,” she said. “The other players I’ve drafted contracts for haven’t given me nearly as much trouble.”
“What a life we live,” I said, but there was a smile on my lips. One of the things I loved about our lives were the challenges. The constant go-go mentality, the fast-paced, high stakes that came with working with professional athletes.
“Truth,” she said, clinking her mug against mine.
Her phone rang again, but this time her smile was wide and genuine, and it didn’t take me a second to figure out who was on the other end.
“Hey, handsome,” she answered the phone, and I tried to hide behind my mug. They’d had some rough patches recently, but had finally leapt over every hurdle that had been thrown their way. The love that radiated from her now was so bright it was nearly blinding. “I miss you,” she said.
Hendrix was at an away game for the Cougars, but they somehow made it all work—away games, paparazzi, her dad being his ex-coach, all of it.
I guess when it comes to real love, nothing seemed impossible.
“I’m glad you checked in,” she said, then set the phone on the table between us. I tilted my head at her when she pushed the speaker button.
