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Tapping out an introduction, he asked if Max would like to get coffee or dinner sometime. His finger hovered over the send button. It didn’t feel right. Not like playing with Isaiah had. But hadn’t that turned out well?
“Fuck it.” He hit send.
Maybe Max would turn out to be great. If not, at least he’d be a distraction from . . . the Gage Scholar Program.
Chapter Seven
Darren
His phone rang. Dad.
Darren tried to tell himself he wasn’t nervous as he dropped onto his bed and stared at the flashing screen. But a ridiculous amount of hopefulness trembled through him.
He hit the accept button.
“Hey, Dad.” His voice hitched and he closed his eyes.
“Hi, son. Did I call at a bad time?”
“Just getting ready for class.”
“Good. Good.” A moment of silence stretched, and Darren’s grip choked his phone. Dad cleared his throat, and his tone turned all business, “I wanted to catch you before you left. I need to schedule the Gage Scholar dinner.”
Darren’s shoulders sagged. “The Gage Scholar dinner.”
“Do you have a game this weekend or next?”
“Game Saturday afternoon and none next weekend.” He wanted to blurt out that he’d scored five times in three games, including a hat trick in the second game. The words stuck in his throat. He also had a date this Saturday night, but that wasn’t something he wanted to tell his father.
“Good. Then plan to come home next weekend. Can you ask Mr. Nettles if that works for him and confirm with me if it does?”
Call him? Dad would answer? “Sure.”
“Excellent. Let him know we’ll have the corporate jet pick you both up and that he’ll be staying at the house with us.”
Wait, what? “He will?”
“Yes, Darren, he will. Your mother won’t forgive either of us if you stay in a hotel, so Nettles can’t either.”
“Isaiah.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s his name. Isaiah. Nettles.”
“Right. If you stay at the house, he has to as well. It won’t seem very equitable if we make him stay in a hotel when the only other person in the competition gets to stay in our home.”
Now Darren was the “other person”? “But . . . it’s my home, Dad. It’s not like you’re playing favorites.”
Was that a sigh on the other end? “We have plenty of room for a guest.”
“Yes, sir.” Well, wasn’t this great. He got the privilege of inviting the guy who thought he was an entitled jerk to stay at his home.
Awesome start to the day.
“Thank you. Let Isaiah know the arrangements and get back to Maggie.”
Maggie? His administrative assistant?
Darren stared at his lap. “Yes, sir.”
“Okay then, good catching up. Get back to her as soon as you can. Your mother will want time to make arrangements.”
“Of course.”
“Excellent. Your mother is looking forward to seeing you. She missed you this summer.”
But you didn’t, did you? “I’ve missed her too. Although not her attempts at fixing me up.”
“Okay, son, I need to get off the phone. I’ve got a meeting I’m two minutes late for already. Take care and call me when you can.”
“Yes, sir. I will.”
Just like that, his day went down the crapper. And he still had to deliver messages for his dad.
Isaiah
The text from Darren had taken Isaiah by surprise. They hadn’t seen, called, texted, emailed, or spoken to each other since Nico broke up their jam session. They would have to meet about the fundraiser at some stage, but Darren had asked to speak between classes. Didn’t sound like a planning session.
He glanced at the peace offering he’d brought with him. Was it going to help ease things between them? Maybe. Maybe not. He’d try anyway.
He opened the door. The café was rocking already, and he glanced at the clock. Class must have just let out from the yoga studio on the top floor. Never a good time to come, right after that.
But Darren had snagged a table. A good one that faced the door. He gave Isaiah a lazy wave and avoided making eye contact. Isaiah hadn’t expected any less, but it still made his stomach sink. The whole thing on Friday had played out like shit. And had the roles been reversed? Yeah, Isaiah would’ve been pissed with a big P.
“Hey.” He settled into the chair across from Darren. There were no cups on the table, so either Darren didn’t drink coffee or he’d just gotten there.
Darren looked up and gestured to the counter. “I waited to get something until you got here. What can I get you?”
“I’ll get it.”
“It’s fine, I’m just spending Mom and Dad’s money.” He tried to make it sound like a joke, but there was just enough pain in the words to make Isaiah cringe. “What would you like?”
“Coffee. Black. Please.” He almost apologized, but it could wait a few minutes. Timing and all that. “That’s nice of you.”
“It’s nothing,” Darren mumbled and made his way to the counter. Isaiah took in the view. Entitled or not, Darren had amazing legs. Especially given he was tall. And lean. Clearly Darren had played for years.
