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She places her hands on her hips. “Yes. You should be out with your teammates, cruising the town, sowing your wild oats or something.” She waves a hand dismissively.
“Sowing my wild oats? Are you in your twenties…or forties?”
“Ha. Ha. Listen, if no one else is going to act like you’re a big deal,youhave to. You should be out at a bar, talking really loudly about how you beat that team’s ass today. Showing off your muscular…assets. Preening for your soon-to-be fans.”
My mouth quirks. “You think I have assets?”
She gestures toward my body. “I think, you know,all thatis what most people would consider…very well…put together.”
“So,youlike my assets?”
“I’m speaking generally.”
She presses her glasses up her nose, and I can’t help thinking her adorable factor is at a ten right now. She literally saidsewing your wild oatsandassets. “You can admit it. You were watching myassetsduring the game.” I feign shock with a sharp inhale of breath. “Do you think my parents noticed? How inappropriate.”
Her mouth drops, a fiery blush blazing across her cheeks. “I—”
“I’m joking.”
“I know,” she insists, raising her chin.
“I appreciate the welcome. Always love a reminder of how well I played.” I stare at her for a few more seconds. Seeing someone else in the stands to watch me always feels nice, but Len wasn’t just there casually observing, she cheered like a crazy person right along with my weird family.
“You guys really need the hype guy in the beginning.” She grabs her laptop and sits back down on the couch. “Does that cost extra or something? You’d think he would come with the arena.”
I walk cautiously to my bedroom and drop my bag before turning and facing Len, who hasn’t moved from her spot. “It’s been like that all four years.”
“Petition for some changes.”
“Too late now. Besides, I went to the media. I can feel everything changing right now.” She peers up at me, and I makethe same handwriting gesture that I made after scoring the last two times. “Taking those notes? Got some good ideas?”
“Yes. Right now, they include the outright fanatical fans some players produce. Cowbells and wigs.” She sends me a glare.
“You like that, huh?” I eye up the couch, but I don’t think I can sit without hurting myself.
“You could’ve warned me about the cowbell.”
I snicker. “That was your least favorite? I thought it would be the wig.”
“The bell was noisy and drew attention to the wig.”
I lean against the couch. She can complain all she wants, but I saw something completely different. “You were having fun out there.”
“I was,” she admits, smiling to herself. “Your family’s great. Truly. Your sister and I exchanged numbers, so I have a link to the inside now.” She waggles her eyebrows like a cartoon evil mastermind. It’s possible she might’ve spent too much time with my dad today.
I chuckle, cringing when pain shoots through me. Bruised ribs, for sure. The pain is always worse after the adrenaline wears off. Hobbling into the kitchen, I grab some water and take a few gulps before refilling the glass.
As much as I’d like to stay up and talk about the article, rest is in my future. “I’m going to bed,” I announce. “Thanks for coming to support me and being good natured about it all. I’m sure my family was ridiculous.” I grit my teeth against an upsurge of pain, giving her a wave as I start for my room again.
“Oh,” she says. “Yeah, sure. Good night.”
“Night.”
I hobble to my bedroom as fast as I can and shut the door behind me. Breathing out a long exhale, I head to my attached bathroom and grab the pain reliever in the medicine cabinet. I take a few pills and then undress on my way to the bed, makingsure the TV remote, my phone, and the water are next to me before attempting to lie down because I have a feeling it’s going to suck for a few seconds, and I won’t want to move for at least a few hours.
Quickly, I crawl onto the bed, wincing, but my theory is that situations like this are a Band-Aid scenario. The slower you move, the more torture you endure. Once I’m settled with pillows propped behind me, the rib pain goes back to a dull ache that the pills will take care of soon. Then I putThe Curse of Oak Islandon at low volume and wait to fall asleep. They haven’t found the treasure in a hundred years, so I doubt I’ll miss it tonight.
Before long, my eyelids flutter closed, and the absolute exhaustion from the game pulls me under.