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“I just wonder if you injured it further with the fall yesterday.” I cringe. “I encourage you to get it checked out, that’s all.”
His expression clouds. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine. My doctor is in Texas anyway.” He folds his muscular arms over his chest.
“Well, maybe check in with him or her when you get home. I mean, just to make sure?”
“I am home, sort of.”
“Oh, you moved to Longdale? From Texas?” I was not aware of that. Man, it’s getting harder and harder to pretend I don’t know him. “Why are you staying here? You don’t have an apartment or house or something?”
“It’s sort of an extended stay.”
As my eyebrows climb high up my forehead, he rushes to explain. “I own a cabin on the property.” Except his tone sounds unsure.
His life sounds about as ordered and figured out as mine, poor guy. Which again, raises my walls. I don’t need to think about how attractive he is if he’s as messed up right now as I am. Talk about the blind leading the blind.
“Cool. That’s cool,” I say. “Um, well maybe I’ll see you around then. But hopefully not on the treadmills until you get it checked out.”
Stop, I tell myself. I need to quit infringing on his right to mess up his already messed-up knee.
“I thought about doing some upper body workouts today around three,” he says. “Maybe I’ll see you in there?”
That gym is state of the art. And with my plan to binge candy and every show on all six channels in the ESPN universe, another run today would probably be a very good thing.
Just then, Teresa comes to clear his plate, bringing an insulated cup and a small paper bag. The scent of some sort of pastry wafts from it as he grabs it from her.
“Here you go, Alec,” she says. “Will we see you at lunch?”
He works his jaw. “I. No.” He glances at me and then back at her. “I’ve been trying to cut back on this deliciousness.” He pats his stomach—a stomach that is clearly as taut and defined as his legs are.
The older woman laughs and rolls her eyes. “It’s taco soup today,” she chides. “I know how you love taco soup.” She turns back around and begins to walk away. “Bye, Mr. Tate!”
His eyes go wide.
I don’t think he wanted me to know who he is.
Chapter 4
Alec
There’s a large group of people, probably an extended family of various ages, descending on the eatery with stabby hunger in their eyes. I do not want them to hear my name. There are enough people out there that know who I am, so I cringe when there’s a possibility of someone making a connection—of someone asking about my failed career.
I’d been on the NFL watch lists. I’d been drafted in the third round. Sports media had said I had real potential and I did. Ihadreal potential.
At Teresa’s mention of my name, the woman from the gym blinks rapidly as she takes in a slow breath. “I have a confession to make.” She lifts a shoulder. “I knew you were Alec Tate.”
My jaw clamps down hard as I watch the last of the group go past us to settle on some tables nearer the kitchen. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I—” she hesitates, her tongue quickly licking her lips and her gaze darting around the room. “I really didn’t want to talk about the Wolves.”
“Is that because—” I hate admitting I recognized her and didn’t say anything, either. “You’re a trainer for the team, right?”
Her cheeks hold an eruption of pink. “I was, yes. I think I started around the time you got injured. It’s nice to meet you, officially. And sorry about your knee. So tragic for a young—”
I hold up a hand to interrupt. I can’t receive sympathy from almost-strangers right now. “It’s fine. I’m working with my brothers here now and everything’s great.”
Lies. And anyone with half a brain can see that. But I’m not about to talk about how crazy this has all made me, how much anger I’ve felt these last few months.
She gives a resolute nod. Of course she doesn’t believe me, but she’s not going to press the issue any further, thank goodness.
