Page 168 of Colliding with Ten

Lennox

But only if you’re okay with it.

I could ask him what it was about, and he would tell me, but I trusted Lennox. He’d never tried to pull AJ away from me. Whatever he planned to say wouldn’t be about defending himself. Somehow, I knew he had my best interest at heart.

Ayla

Well, I’m not speaking to him, so somebody should.

I don’t think he’ll make it easy on you.

Lennox

I wasn’t expecting that.

Ayla

Thank you for having my back

In more ways than one.

Lennox

Always

40

THE NEUTRAL ZONE

LENNOX

Watching Ayla walk away was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. I never fought so hard to keep someone in my life or wanted anyone enough to beg them to stay, but here I was, on a plane to New York during the playoff push, still fighting for her.

I stared at the playbook the entire flight but didn’t turn a page. The offensive coordinator had scheduled a walkthrough for the next morning. I still had two days of film to watch. The championship race was in its final weeks. Every hour mattered, but so did this. I couldn’t fix everything, but I could show AJ who I was when a game wasn’t on the line.

Meadow answered the door. I knew her name because of Ayla. She wore an oversized sweater and leggings, her hair pulled back. She’d answered the intercom from the doorman and let me into the building. Had it been AJ, I might still be on the sidewalk.

“He’s in the kitchen.”

“How is he?”

She considered the question. “He’s coming around. But he doesn’t know you’re here, and I don’t know how this is going to go.”

“That makes two of us.”

She stepped aside and let me through. The apartment was immaculate. Books on the shelf were arranged by height. I raised an eyebrow at the remotes lined up parallel to the coffee table. Everything was spotless. Ayla wasn’t kidding. You could eat off the floors in here.

AJ was at the kitchen counter, tablet propped against the backsplash, game film playing. His back was to me, but his shoulders tensed at footsteps that weren’t Meadow’s. He turned.

Our eyes met, and I was back in that training room after the first game. He had the same direct gaze and assessment happening behind his eyes.

“Monroe.” His voice was flat, stripped of anything that could be mistaken for welcome.

“Callahan.”

He looked past me toward the hallway where Meadow had disappeared and back at me. He ground his molars, as Ayla had described them to me, without realizing she was handing me the scouting report on her brother.

“Meadow let you in?”