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I’m wrecked when practice is done and dragging my feet as I walk across the parking lot. My head’s in the clouds, or more specifically, back on the field, running through the easy play I kept fucking up. Is Carter right to be worried? He’s right about my mind not fully being on the game, but I’m certain it’s because things with Lucy are up in the air. And if I talk to her and sort out my feelings, and hers, it’ll be better.
I’m almost at my truck when a pap shoves a mic in my face, making me jump. “Jesus. Chill, man. If you have a question, asking it from a distance will get the same result.”
“Really?” he asks, not believing a word out of my mouth. But I’m telling the truth. Just not in the way he thinks.
“Yep, really. I’m not going to answer any of your questions, no matter where you’re standing. You can talk to me after the game like everyone else.” I keep walking, ignoring his annoyed stare.
“What if it’s about your personal life?”
That pulls me up short. I wish I hadn’t reacted. I wish I’d just kept walking. But that small hesitation, the tiny pause in step, tells him everything he needs to know.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Answer my question, and I’ll leave you and your new girl alone.”Fuck!
I turn to face him with a bored expression. It’s fake boredom because I’m desperate to know what he has to say, but I think he’s buying it. “What’s the question?”
“Are you dating the sister of Denver’s new wide receiver?”
What the actual fuck?This guy’s done his research. Dylan’s not even on the media’s radar yet. I know, because I looked him up.
“I can confidently say that I’m not,” I answer truthfully because we haven’t defined it. If he’d asked if I was sleeping with her, that would have been different.
“Okay, let me rephrase.”Fuck!
“Nope. You got your question. I did exactly what you asked.”
“I’ve got photos, man. So we can do this the easy or the hard way.”
My fists clench by my thighs, but my face remains composed. I can’t give in. No matter what he claims to have. Lucy and I haven’t done anything other than kiss in public, and there’s been photos of me kissing in public before. It’s no big deal; it’ll blow over. Yes, it’s usually during the off-season, but still, a kiss is nothing.
“Write what you have to. I’m sure it will be a lie no matter what I say.”
“But—”
“Are we all good here?” our offensive coordinator calls out from behind us, cutting off the crap about to spew out of the pap’s mouth. “Come on, Dave. You know the drill. There’s a time and place for questioning my players.”
Daveturns around. “And I usually respect that, but this isn’t football related.”
Coach has his hand on his hips, his bullshit radar on high alert. “Everythingis football related. On your way.”
I’m surprised when Dave listens and heads to his Porsche. The flashy car he probably paid for by ruining the lives of others.
“You too, Wes. On your way.”
“I’m gone,” I say with a nod, definitely ready to be out of here.
I’ve just opened my door when Coach calls out again. “And whatever he’s looking for, sort it. I’m not stupid. I know something’s going on. Don’t let it fuck up your game.”
After serving him another quick nod, I jump in my truck and out of his judging sight. People keep assuming the worst and it’s pissing me off. I’ve got this. I’m in control.I think.
Lucy doesn’t welcome me home like I’d hoped. She never agreed to that caveman plan. But she’s knocking on my door, not even five minutes after I’ve walked through, so I’m happy all the same.
“How was practice?” she asks, flopping down on the sofa with her legs over the armrest. I smile at how comfortable she’s become around me, as bit by bit I break down those walls.
“Practice was practice. I’d rather hear about you. What did you get up to?”
“Well, I had the farewell lunch for the conference, and now, I’m stuffed full of decent food and resting on your couch.”
“Sounds like fun.”
