AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Everyone’s busy.”
“I’m busy too,” I told him, jumping up from my seat and opening up my medical bag to rummage for bandages. “I have to deal with Jude’s knee and if I don’t-”
“Leah,” Richard interrupted, smiling at my sudden eagerness to work on anything but talking to the man I loathed. “Please. I need McCoy here. Think of this as a way to practice being nice to him.”
My boss was no fool. He knew I’d been keeping away from McCoy in order to avoid ripping his head off. Unfortunately, no matter how much I wished I didn’t have to talk to him, it would happen eventually. Richard was just forcing my hand.
“Fine.” I sighed. “You’d better give me his number then.”
I pulled my mobile from my pocket and typed in the digits Richard gave me. I didn’t bother programming them into my contacts. I had no intention of using the number again.
“Thanks, Leah.”
“Sure,” I answered as he sped out of the room.
I took a long, slow breath as I stared at McCoy’s phone number, reminding myself to remain even-tempered no matter what he said.
I pressed the call button before I could change my mind. He answered after the sixth ring.
“Leah. What can I do for you?”
With those words, he shattered the air of calm confidence I’d built up.
“How did you know it was me?”
“You’re part of the team. I make sure I have all the team phone numbers, in case of emergency.”
I felt certain that was some kind of privacy violation but I didn’t want to waste time debating it. Give him the message, get back to work.
“Richard asked me to call you because you’re supposed to be here by now.”
“I’m running late.”
“Are you on your way?”
“Not yet. I’ve just taken a shower.”
“You’re still at the hotel?” I asked, battling to keep an incredulous squeal out of my voice. There was running late, and there was taking the piss. He was most definitely taking the piss.
“Yes I’m still at the hotel.”
“Are you even ready for this evening?”
“Why? What did you have in mind? My room, room service, wine?”
“I meant are you ready for the game?” I corrected, with fake politeness of an Oscar winning standard.
“I’m always ready for a game,” he said, his voice taking on a much huskier tone. “I just need someone to play with.”
The desire in his voice robbed me of the last of my already fragile composure which, in turn, made me furious with myself.
“I have to go,” I said, quickly. “But … be here as soon as you can. Bye!”
I hung up, my face flushed and hot with rage. Damn you, McCoy. He always found the right way to unsettle me in any situation. In spite of my determination to show him I wouldn’t be pushed around, he always seemed to have the upper hand.
And his voice, thick with innuendo. Ten years ago, hell, even five years ago I wouldn’t have thought twice about taking him up on his offer. Things had changed since then. I’d changed.
McCoy eventually showed up at the stadium having missed an hour and fifteen minutes of training and was promptly ripped into by Richard. I ducked out of the office to the pleasant sound of my boss telling him that if he was ever late again without a good excuse, he would be issued an official warning.
