Page 65 of Almost Rotten

I settle back in my seat, willing my heart rate to settle.

“That was hard on you.” He stares me down, his expression softer than I expect.

I open my mouth, then snap it shut, still confused about how to respond.

With both hands held up in surrender, he says, “I know we’re just getting to know each other, but I hope that eventually, you’ll see that I always stand by my guys. I’ve learned a valuable lesson here today. When they come calling again, I’ll make sure you know in advance.”

I clear my throat, willing my voice not to shake. “Even if they specifically ask you not to tell me?”

He grimaces. “I don’t feel comfortable answering that directly.”

My shoulders sag. Of fucking course not.

“But I’ll say this: It’s my responsibility as your coach to ensure your physical, emotional, and mental well-being. Especially on fucking game day.” His tone goes sharp there. “I won’t allow them to blindside you again, regardless of what they ask of me. That’s for damn sure. You’re my priority, Tremblay.”

The riot of nerves in my gut settles a fraction.

I’m not exactly relieved, though it helps to know that I’m not completely alone. That maybe I can trust someone other than Sawyer and Atty.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice thick. “Is there anything else?”

With a shake of his head, he excuses me, urging me to take some time to relax before the game.

Fat fucking chance of that happening now.

I’ll be lucky if my heart finds its resting rate before warm-ups at three.

“Oh, and Tremblay,” he says as I reach the door.

I pause and turn around, brows lifted.

“Let me know if you want me to be your plus-one for that dinner.” He steeples his fingers and rocks back in his chair. “I’m probably not the person they had in mind, but if it helps—”

I shake my head, though I offer him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Coach. I’ve got that covered.”

With weighted down feet, I leave the locker room and pass through the lobby. I wave to Bryant and Kai at the counter as I pass, but I don’t stop.

When I push open the back door, the brisk fall air slams into me, waking me a little. I pull my hood up and duck against the cold. Then I fish out my phone and send a text.

Ty:Just met with two people from the Georgia Galaxy front office. We’re going to dinner with them next Saturday, after the game.

She replies instantly.

Sawyer:Why do I have to go?

I smirk. I’m tempted to respond with “because I said so.” But a memory of her expression this morning stops me. She was so soft, so warm and open. I want more of that. Of what’s real. Of moments where she isn’t resisting. So instead of matching her energy, I offer the truth.

Ty:They ambushed me today. Specifically asked Coach not to tell me they were waiting for me. This feels like a test. I’d feel better if you were by my side.

The moment I hit Send, I wish I could take it back. I hate the idea of being so vulnerable, of giving her ammunition to use against me.

Sawyer:You should ask Atty. It would be a good networking opportunity for him.

With a scowl, I shake my head. Is she suggesting that because she wants to help her brother, or because she doesn’t want to be with me?

Doesn’t fucking matter.

That’s not what’s happening.