I frowned. “Weird is not the word I would use,” I said dryly.
“I mean… I know you react to my scent because I’m an Omega, but I also know you don’t exactly like me very much—”
“No. Hold on. You think I don’tlikeyou?” I asked.
Bridget shivered under the blanket. “Okay fine, I know you like me as afriend,but that was basically sexual assault—”
I hated to interrupt her again, but I had to. “Bridget. No. I do not like you as a friend. My feelings towards you are notfriendly.”
Bridget flushed again. “They’re not?”
“No,” I said simply, then my stomach twisted. “Is that how you think of me?”
Now it was my turn to be horrified, and even more grateful I’d restrained myself.
Bridget’s eyes were wide on mine. She opened and closed her mouth silently. I took pity on both of us to save her from coming up with a diplomatic answer.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I reiterated. I stood up slowly, even as my heart broke, and laid her discarded clothing on the bed next to her. As the adrenaline — or whatever it was that had been coursing through me — faded, my arm started protesting. I’d have to check the stitches, which gave me an excellent excuse for fleeing the room. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
Chapter 28 - Andrew
“Andy, baby, how are ya?” Fletcher answered after less than half a ring. “Have you been hiding from me, champ?”
I ground my teeth, took two deep breaths.Without him you have no career prospects, I reminded myself. Fletcher was my agent, and he’d called a dozen times over the last two weeks. Yes, I’d been avoiding him.
“Not hiding, just busy,” I said, tossing some grapes into the cart. Bridget liked grapes right? I think I’d seen her eat them the other day. “I’m actually out getting groceries and figured I’d call you back.”
“How’s the treatment going? Still feeling strong?”
I stifled my sigh.
With all the shit going on, the shootings and intrigue, I’d almost forgotten that my return to competition had been aborted before it began. In my defense, I also just didn’t want to think about it.
“Well… it’s complicated,” I started.
“Listen, I know you’re set on this ‘comeback redemption arc’ storyline and you know I love it, bud. But listen, that shit only sells when you have the presence to back it up, right? And since you refuse to have a social media team, I just don’t see how that plays out,” Fletcher barreled on. “Unless you get a majortour win, all we’re looking at is… commercials for online auto insurance and maybe testosterone pills.”
“Testosterone pills?” I repeated. “That sounds bleak.”
“Right, exactly, so I have another option. ESPN is investing hard in tennis right now, and there’s talk of a new network podcast. Two hosts, both former tennis pros, and yours truly hasyourname in the mix for one of the spots.”
“Is apodcastreally better than testosterone pills?” A woman in front of me looked around with a frown. I gave her an apologetic smile and plopped a five-pound bag of potatoes in the cart with the vague notion that I’d mash them for dinner.
“Why don’t you ask the guys at Barstool, huh? This is a good opportunity, man. AndZorevais apparently in the mix for the other host.”
Well. Shit. If it was good enough for Zoreva… She’d won three majors in 2018, only missing out on a calendar year grand slam because she’d lost the French Open to Rocher.
“Do I need to commit right now?”
“All I need from you is a ‘maybe.’ And then we’ll set up some meetings. Nothing set in stone, but things are looking good, pal!” Fletcher sounded relieved and surprised that I hadn’t completely shut him down.
I didn’t want to give up yet, but I also knew that the chances of a real comeback had always been slim. Impossible, actually. And now, with Bridget maybe being a permanent fixture in our lives, did I really want to be the sad old man living in the past?
Nathan was a competent scientist. Well respected in his field. Bridget had called himbrilliantthe other day. If I couldn’t win her the U.S. Open, a fancy podcast deal could be the next best thing.
“Fine. Maybe,” I said. “But I’m still in the middle of some personal stuff, so give me a couple weeks before any meetings.”
After Fletcher hung up, promising to text me more details on the gig, I wandered around the store mindlessly for a few minutes, considering this potential future. Apodcast. Those made good money now, right? And I'd probably have a flexible schedule. It would be way less demanding than the training regimen I’d have to embark on to get back in shape.
