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I stand too. “Sal—”
“Nah. Not doing this.” He gives a quick shake of his head before taking off, and even if I was in any state to chase after him, my legs wouldn’t obey. They’re stuck. The rest of me is too, my brain most of all, unable to move on from his accidental fuck-up.
As I watch him disappear into the crowd, my gaze snags elsewhere. On the tall man in the purple suit, laughing it up with some of the players I recognize from the quick introductions made earlier. His teammates, evidently. God, no wonder Cass got us out of there so quickly. He didn’t ‘want me all to himself.’ He just didn’t want to give his new buddies a chance to spill the beans.
When brown eyes flit my way, sensing my stare, I physically flinch. Cass’ smile is quick to drop, a frown quicker to replace it. Like he knows something is wrong.
Like he knowswhat’swrong.
How, exactly, I get out of the room is a mystery to me. I just know I do, my footsteps falling heavily on the tiled floor of the hotel lobby, not quite as loud as the ones gaining on me. “Sunday, stop.”
When Cass tries to pull me to a stop, I rip my arm from his grasp. “Were you going to tell me before or after you moved to San Francisco?” His face falls, and it’s all the confirmation I need. “Wow. Congratulations, Morgan.”
“Sunday—”
“No.” He makes another grab for me but I step out of his reach, lifting a hand to stop his approach. “It’s okay. This is what you’ve been working for. You don’t have to play it cool for my benefit.”
“You said you were okay with me playing. You said you understood.”
“I did—Ido. But it was supposed to be months away, and you never lied about it.”
I think that’s what’s really tripping me up. He’s always so startlingly honest, so incredibly upfront, and him keeping this from me feels… purposeful.
“When’re you leaving?” The question has barely left my lips before another one is coming out, the one plaguing me the most, hurting me the worst. “Did you find out before or after you said all that bullshit to my kid?”To me?
Indignation flares on Cass’ face, fueling my own. “It wasn’t bullshit.”
I snort but it’s more of a sob.
So, he said all of that knowing he was leaving. And not in a few months—in a matter of weeks. Days, maybe. Mid-season, Sal said.Nowis mid-season.Thisis mid-season. This… “This was your little ‘welcome back’ party, wasn’t it?”
He doesn’t confirm nor deny, just says, “The contract isn’t signed yet.”
Yet.
I want to ask why. I try to ask why, but a yell of Cass’ name interrupts us—Ryaninterrupts us, storming towards Cass with a face like a slapped ass. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’m in the middle of something.”
“Cass—”
“Fuckoff, Ryan.”
The agent’s lips purse. He glances at me, staring for a long moment before returning his attention to his boss, plastering on a smile that’s more of a sneer. “I just want to know why you transferred hundreds of thousands of dollars to a ‘John Shay’ in Hicksville, Texas.”
There’s an instantaneous rush of blood to my face, every beat of my heart like thunder in my ears. “What did you just say?”
Ryan cocks his head at me. “Is that where you’re running off to? Rich baby daddy secured, mission accomplished, time to go back to where you belong?”
I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a person growl before but I swear Cass does. “Ryan, if you ever wanna work in sports management again, you’ll shut your mouth and get the fuck out of here right now.”
Ryan doesn’t look all that phased by the threat. He’s pretty calm, actually. Like the cat who got his cream. Like the villain who’s getting his way. “Okay. I won’t ask about those NDAs I’m supposed to send him and his family either.”
“Ryan.”
He holds his hands up in innocence as he backs away but the damage is done. I barely register him leaving. I’m too focused on desperately trying to keep myself together. To stop tears from falling. To stop my heart from falling out of my fucking chest.
Desperation paints Cass’ every feature. “I can explain.”
