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I bark out a short laugh, even though I’m still mad at him. “Well, you can’t get any worse.” I shrug just as Dylan walks back outside.
I’m about to ask Wes if he wants to come in, when he presses a kiss to my cheek and steps back. “I mean it, Lucy. I’m sorry. I promise to make it up to you.”
He takes a few steps backward until he reaches my drive and then turns to walk away. Without saying another word, I let him leave, knowing it’s for the best. I’m not sure I’m completely over what he did yet.
He definitely had something to do with Greg’s sudden change of heart and for the fact that someone personally delivered the news, but he still hurt me and I need assurance that won’t happen again.
Dylan circles his arms around me the second I’m through the door, lifting me into the air. “I’m so happy for you, Luce. And relieved. So fucking relieved.”
I wriggle myself free and drop to the ground. “Me too, but what do you think Wes did?”
A smile pulls at his lips while his gaze moves to where Wes is getting in his truck. “I have a theory. But you should probably talk to him about it.”
“Ugh.” I shove him away. “You suck.”
“Little brother duties,” he says as he walks down the hall.
“Asshole,” I call out and then cringe when Katie comes running down the hall, positive she would have heard me but too happy to care.
My beautiful girl is safe, and the weight I’ve been carrying for almost five years is close to being lifted. I bite my cheek to stop myself from crying again as Katie jumps into my open arms.
“I love you, baby girl.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Lucy
Everywakingsecondofmy weekend is spent with Katie, keeping her much closer than she needs to be. You’d think I’d been summoned to court because Greg was trying togaincustody of Katie,notrelinquish his rights, but I just can’t bear to be away from her.
We spend our time dancing around the house, playing dress-up, or baking. Katie practices her throw and I poorly catch, we cheer Dylan on in his game–which they win—and even go out to dinner to celebrate. All the while, my eyes never leave Katie.
Wes texts a few times, sometimes to check in, other times to say hi, but always short and sweet, so I don’t have to reply. And yet, I always do, because I always want to. He’s never far from my mind.
Back at work, first thing Monday morning, I find myself wandering past his office even though I have no reason for walking that way. But instead of Wes, I find our athletic director sitting at his desk with a scowl on his face, making me hastily keep moving. I don’t need a scolding on my first day back.
When I round the corner, I hear Wes’s deep voice coming from the offensive team offices. I don’t stop as I walk past, but curiosity gets the best of me and I glance through the open door on my way. He’s sitting behind one of the desks, playbook open in front of him as he chats with the offensive coordinator. My stupid heart does a little flutter when my eyes lock on his, and I choose to pretend it’s got more to do with the strange scene I’m witnessing, rather than my feelings. Wes almost always makes people meet him in his office, and yet, he looks like he’s made himself at home. I shrug it off and continue on my path, finding one of our linebackers waiting for me when I reach my room.
From then on, I have a revolving door of appointments, barely even stopping for lunch, except to quickly run to the kitchen to shove something into my mouth. My heart skips while thinking about the possibility of running into Wes, but on this occasion I don’t. Aaron checks in at one point to ask about my stomach bug, but other than that, I don’t see any other staff.
I’m leaning against my table at the end of the day, with my foot in my hand, massaging my aching joints. After hitting the right spot, I let out a soft moan then internally curse when Wes chooses that moment to knock on my door and wander in.
After taking one look at my pained expression, he silently glances toward my foot before he strides over to meet me, taking over my effort. Using his thick fingers to knead my arch, he gently moves my ankle around, as my eyes roll into the back of my head and another moan escapes me. It feels so amazing that I get lost in the moment. That is, until I realize what he’s doing and snap out of it, hopping around as I try to pull my foot free.
“Ew, Wes, no. I’ve been on my feet all day. You shouldn’t be touching them.” I feel my chest heat as embarrassment takes over.
He laughs but doesn’t let go, making it really awkward for me.
“Lucy, if I cared about that at all, I wouldn’t have grabbed your foot. Plus you touch sweaty guys all the time; does it botheryou?”
Did he just compare my foot to a player after a game?
“Shit! Let go!”
Wes’s laughter grows louder as he finally lets go, causing me to stumble a little when I’m not quite prepared for the release. He reaches out and steadies me before I fall, quickly righting me to a standing position.
“It doesn’t stink. You’re worrying for nothing,” he whines.
