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“He’ll be happy once he walks out of here with a few thousand in his pocket, trust me.”
“Then why not just bring it up now and let him prepare for it.”
Bobby’s eyes squinted at me again, concerned for what I was suggesting. “Charleigh, you know how this works. Not even Sisco is gonna know that I am making this happen. It'll be a fair fight.”
No, it wouldn't. Sisco asked for it and would probably be expecting it. Levi would be blindsided.
I nodded to keep my cool but left to the female locker room for a minute to myself. I paced back and forth, unsure what I should do. The right thing would be to warn Levi and let him back out of the fight. Then again, why did I care? Bobby’s gym and my family at the gym meant more to me than Levi. Just because we were having sex didn’t mean I started caring about him.
His face flashed in my mind, the face he gave me as he looked up at me, kneeling on the floor in Chicago. How he was worried and cared, but also mindful enough to give me what I wanted. That wasn't the face of a man I could betray.
Was it?
Chapter22
Levi
“How many times are you going to watch that play?” I looked up from my laptop, realizing Dave was behind me. I shut the computer and shrugged as he rounded to the chair in front of me and sat down. “Cam threw that ball perfectly, Ty caught it with excellent form, what is there to overanalyze?”
It wasn't the play that had me fucked up, it was what went on behind the play. Something I couldn't see from across the field until it was on my screen. Something no one else saw or would ever see because they didn't know to look for it.
“Earth to Coach,” Dave laughed and leaned back, watching me like I was a side show at the circus.
“Just thinking,” I gritted out, trying to suppress the fury.
“Let me guess, the sexy line judge should have thrown a flag for pass interference regardless of how well the play turned out for us.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I didn't think the play deserved a flag, and I was confused why he was bringing it up. I also didn’t like him calling Charleigh sexy any more than I liked Rhys calling her hot.
“Coach, you are out for her blood. We all see it. It's not sitting well with you when she makes calls you don't agree with.”
“I always yell at the refs, it's practically in the job description.”
“But I have never seen you as irate as you get with her.”
I leaned back in the chair and crossed my arms, trying to figure out where he was going with his little story.
“I know that’s what you’re doing. You are looking for anything you can to push her off that field. I say this as a friend, not as your assistant coach, but it looks bad. You are coming across as a chauvinist.”
“How the–?” I cut my own self off, about to explode again.
“I’m just being the bird in your ear. You need to find a way to calm down and let her do her job without insulting her.”
He had no idea what I was trying to do to Charleigh Wright. Get her off the field? Yeah, I wanted that more than I wanted anything, but not because I was a chauvinist. I had reasons well beyond that and I wasn't sure he was ready to hear those.
“I'll keep that in mind,” I seethed at him before changing the subject.
It was already Wednesday, and we had a lot of prep before our home game that weekend. The other coaches filed into the room, taking their seats and we got busy with our daily meeting.
Dave was able to let his comments fade away and no one else brought up my behavior, but I looked around the room constantly trying to see if there were any scrutinizing faces looking my way.
Practice went smooth and by the end of the day, I had almost forgotten about Dave’s warning all together. But I didn't forget about the video I watched three-hundred times. I didn't forget how much my fingers twitched to hit something.
I texted Rhys to see if he wanted to meet me at Al’s. He had been back and forth from Atlanta to Miami to see his doctors and babysit me. His flight was supposed to land while I was at practice, so I hoped he was antsy for a fight after being stuck on a plane all day.
Flight delayed. I’m still on the ground in Miami.
I leaned back in my office chair, mentally taking note of anyone that might be at Al’s and would want to spar. Then I thought about Bobby’s, and my open invite to workout whenever I wanted leading up to the rematch. But heading to Bobby’s would probably be worse, since I needed to steer clear of Charleigh. Not sure the guys there on Wednesday’s could handle the way we fight.
