AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dylan chuckles, and that’s only because he’s over the phone. Any other time, he’d take me seriously. That’s due to my six-foot-one stature, and I have to look down at him every time we speak.
“You make me sound like I’m the worst friend in the world, Reid.”
“At this point, I’d say that’s an understatement.”
“What do you want me to do? You got suspended, and we needed you to look like you don’t sit at home in the off-season and work on your old Chevelle like you’ve got nothing else better to do until training starts.”
He knows goddamn well that’s what I do, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m used to being alone, and it’s something I’ve grown accustomed to after my parents died.
I like it.
And I don’t give a shit if he does or not.
“Would you rather me be Wells and party until all hours of the night while getting photographed fucking a girl on the hood of some random car?”
“Excuse me?” My attention snaps to the female voice that just hit the side of my head, and it’s the blonde.
“Wells is a different breed than you,” Dylan replies as the woman gives me a small, timid smile. “His manager has a field day with him, so don’t get me wrong, I love that you’re a troll.”
“Are you the assistant coach?” the woman asks, then shoves her dainty hand at me. “I’m Lauren, Sam’s mom.”
“But we need to get this mess out from underneath us,” Dylan continues, obviously not hearing my interruption. “I know you have a reputation for gettin’ guys bloody, but the press is starting to paint you like you have anger issues that might need to be addressed.”
“I’m an enforcer,” I leer through clenched teeth, making the woman in front of me jolt a bit.
“That’s an unofficial role, Reid.”
“Um…” Lauren’s face goes all red as if my comment was meant for her. “I was just here to talk to you about how Sam could do better. I was thinking maybe lunch?”
“My coach doesn’t seem to think so,” I continue, simply disregarding what Lauren said because there’s a damn phone attached to my ear. “I’m the one who plays violently against the opposition. The tough guy. The one to deter and respond to everyone else’s bullshit against my teammates.”
Lauren’s lips coil into a smile. “I’m such a Wolverines fan.”
“You know that no one else has been making headlines,” Dylan says. “So, you just handed them the thing they needed so these reporters and bloggers could keep their job.”
“Sam really looks up to you,” Lauren conveys, still through my conversation. “I think he’d be so excited if he could sit down with you. His dad isn’t in the picture anymore and—”
“Who the hell is talking?” my manager snaps, sounding annoyed that he’s being inconvenienced for the first time. “Are you still in the middle of practice?”
“No,” I reply. “I’m standing here talking to you, and this woman is trying to make me her kid’s new daddy, apparently. The obvious phone in my hand isn’t an indicator that I’m busy and speaking to someone else.” She blanches white and takes a step back. “We good now?”
The question is directed at her, and she forms enough courage to glare at me before pivoting and getting the hell away from me.
“You always were so charming, Reid,” Dylan chuckles on the other side. “See, you’re winning hearts already.”
“Wells needs to do something like this,” I retort. “It’s more up his alley. He would’ve fucked her before she got her next word out.”
“C’mon now—”
“Get me out of here,” I cut in because enough of the small talk bullshit. I need him to start taking this seriously. “Give me something else to do. There’s nothing worse than this, so it shouldn’t be that hard for you.”
“But you’re so good at it.”
My whole-body tenses at the sound of her voice inserted into my conversation because Hollyn is another thing.
Besides her efforts in trying to help me—which is a lot more than what I can say about Weston—the woman shouldn’t have to be talking to parents after practice just because their kids are a bunch of pansies. It’s not part of her job description. The coach should be out here handling all this, and I’m over it.
Glimpsing over my shoulder, Hollyn is dressed in a baggy pink sweater that hides her top half underneath, which is fine by me. It keeps my wandering eyes at bay for a second until my gaze descends to her tight-ass black jeans.
