AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Drew glances at me, out the window, and then back. “And what do you do with the rest?” He sips his large cola. His gaze is hooded, making it difficult to wonder what he's thinking.
I shrug. “Depends. If I think they're good, I shop them around. If not, they remain in my portfolio. Some I may put up on my website. Others never see the light of day.”
He licks his lips, pulling my attention from his eyes to his mouth. He has a sexy mouth. His lips are soft and supple, a contrast to the hard lines of his jaw, slightly fuller in the center before they taper off at the edges.
“I'm a private person, Roni. I don't want unapproved photos of me out there. Anywhere.”
“I need to make a living, Drew. I've got goals and dreams, too. Hell, that picture I took at the game will pave the path to the top for me. I think it's award worthy.”
He stills, his posture rigid. “What picture?” He's giving me a side eye, and it's like being pinned underneath a giant oak. The wood hard, unforgiving, and thick enough to be impenetrable.
I swallow. “When you got tackled.”
He swallows hard enough to draw my eyes to his Adam’s apple. “Show me.”
My gaze flicks back up. Those eyes are not hiding anything anymore. Dark and as intense as his words.
“I don't have them here.”
I'm not sure he believes me, but he doesn't push. He doesn’t relax either. “What exactly did you capture on film?”
I’m not about to lie. “All of it. From the start of the play, the hit, you on the ground.”
Mitch returns in time to hear that last part. He glances between Drew and me. “You have that all on film?”
I nod. Now I’m swallowing hard.
My gaze locks with Drew’s. His is heavy and full of emotion as he tries to keep his composure. I see the worry, the desperation, and the effort it's taking him to hold it together. Why is he so anxious about this? Variations of the photos I took are splashed across the papers and news outlets everywhere already.
His voice is low, almost gentle, and I am nearly softened by it. I sense Mitch's nervousness but refuse to look away from Drew.
“Roni,” he pleads. “You can't sell those photos, please. I'll buy them from you. I'll pay whatever you want.”
He seems so earnest, so sincere in his request that I want to believe him. “You don't get to tell me what to do, Drew. You have no right to make such a request.” My voice is tight.
“Look,” I continue. “I understand that you want to protect yourself, but this is also my livelihood we're talking about. If I'm going to be successful in this business, then I need opportunities like this one.”
“We don't want people to dwell on what happened, Roni.”
I study first Mitch and then Drew. “It was a clean hit. It just ended up bad for Drew.”
“This isn't just about Drew, Roni,” Mitch pipes in. “There's already talk about Drew being too old to play.”
“You’re what, thirty-three or four?” I ask.
“Thirty-five.”
The average age of most football players is around twenty-six. Few last beyond the age of thirty. Usually, injury takes them out sooner than that. Only a few last as long as Drew has.
“That's not old.”
“I agree,” he adds. “But with social media today, and the damage trolls can do, it's not worth it. All they need to do is spread some gossip and it takes off like a speeding train. Then we spend more time and money on damage control.”
Except it's my career too.
Drew checks his watch and stands abruptly, grabbing his jacket off the chair next to him and his crutches from where he leaned them against the window. “We should get back,” he says gruffly before turning and hobbling outside.
I take a deep breath and follow him out, not sure what else to say or do. We both climb into Mitch's car without speaking. For now, we all just buckle up for the drive back to the community center.
