Page 31

N ASH

It’s been a shit couple of days. Kendall never responded to my texts Sunday or Monday.

We lost in LA by ten points, and practice this week is going to be brutal.

My body is sore from taking a beating last night, and my head hasn’t been in the right place since Kendall took off after Paisley’s party.

I’d like to blame my sour mood for my shitty performance Monday night, but I’ve learned to block out the outside noise the moment my cleats touch the turf. I was focused, I just wasn’t good enough. The whole D-line was off, and as one of the captains, it’s my job to get us in sync.

The only positive in my life right now is my ball of sunshine. No matter the mood I’m in, Paisley lights up my world.

I let her stay up later than normal on Tuesday since I haven’t seen her since Saturday night, but by Wednesday morning, we’re both extra growly.

After two meltdowns, the first because I’m a meanie and won’t let her wear her sandals to school and she says ten degrees isn’t too cold, and the second, because I cut her French toast in rectangles instead of triangles, I cave and let her wear her birthday tiara to school.

It’s the first time I’m thankful parents aren’t allowed in the school in the morning. I’m in a foul mood, and since Kendall has been giving me the silent treatment for the past four days, it’s best I don’t see her.

“Grammy and Grampy will pick you up this afternoon. Have a good day. I love you, Sweet Pea.”

“I want you to pick me up,” she whines as she unbuckles her seat belt.

“I know, Sweet Pea.” I twist around and reach for her in the backseat. “Come give me another hug.”

She leans her head into the back of my seat and I kiss her cheek. “Can Buckie pick me up?”

“He has to work too.”

“Can Miss Kendall play with me after school?”

Paisley loves her grandparents, so I know it’s not about them. After the high she experienced at Friendsgiving, then the rush of being the center of attention at her party, she’s now bored with her usual routine.

“We’ll plan something fun for Saturday afternoon. Be thinking of what you’d like to do, and we’ll talk about it at dinner tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbles and lifts her face.

“Love you, Pais.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

An impatient parent behind me taps on their horn. There are strict rules in the drop off zone and we’re pushing it here.

When Paisley is safely on the curb with one of the helpers, I head to the stadium. Two hours of film, followed by two hours of conditioning and two hours of drills, and I’m beat. I grab a sandwich and a plateful of pasta salad and plant myself in the corner of the mess hall, as we like to call it.

Usually, it’s the younger guys and the ones without family nearby who grab a bite to eat before heading home. Those with wives and girlfriends go home to spend time with their loved ones.

If I wasn’t such a chicken shit, I’d have skipped out on the pity party and rushed to get Paisley at school.

But between sucking ass in LA and being rejected by Kendall, I’m shitty company. Too bad that doesn’t stop Walker from taking a seat across from me.

“Don’t you have a wife to go home to?” I say around a bite of roast beef.

“Yeah, I do.” He grins before tearing into his sandwich.

Fucker.

I lower my head and concentrate on my food, but that doesn’t stop Walker, who used to respect my privacy, from jabbering.

“My gorgeous wife had her friends over Monday night to watch the game.”

“Hm.” He’s baiting me, but he won’t hook me. I’m not surprised Kendall hung out with Riley, but I’m not about to ask about her.

“You know how women are when they get together.” He slurps his chicken noodle soup, and I’m two seconds away from dumping it on his lap. “They love to talk about their love lives and complain about men. Except for Riley. She has nothing to complain about.”

I glare at him over my ciabatta bread. “Except how obnoxiously loud you are when you slurp your soup.”

“Never heard any complaints.” He lifts his shoulder. “Sex was the hot topic Monday night.”

“Please spare me the details on your love life.”

“My wife’s sex life, as amazing as it is, wasn’t the hot topic.”

I slowly chew the rest of the food in my mouth and swallow. I’m not falling for his trap. I won’t ask what Kendall said.

“Ten bucks says you wanna know what Kendall said.”

My chest rises and falls as I study Bankes and the smug grin on his face. He’s a good guy, but I’m still tempted to throat punch him. But he wouldn’t be grinning at me if Kendall had bad mouthed me. I want to know—hell, I need to know—what they talked about.

Bankes picks up his spoon and slurps his soup, then takes a bite of his sandwich. He washes it down with a slug from his water, then asks, “You have feelings for Kendall?”

No beating around the bush for this guy. “What’s it to you?”

“Other than the fact she’s my wife’s best friend and she’s been spending a lot of secret time with one of my teammates?” He shrugs. “Nothing.”

One of my teammates. He better the fuck be talking about me. I push my plate aside and lean back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest.

“You obviously have something you want to say, Bankes. Let’s hear it.”

He shrugs again. “Just wondering if my wife is going to be spending her time helping her best friend mend her broken heart or if she needs to go wedding dress shopping.”

“I haven’t broken anyone’s heart.” Kendall would have to actually care for me for that to happen. “And no one is getting married.”

“So it’s just sex with you two?”

“Christ.” I run my palms up and down my face.

“If you’re just using her, let her go. From the looks of things on my end, she’s getting feelings, and Kendall isn’t one to have those.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Things I know.”

“What things?”

Bankes’s brow lifts. “Not my stories to tell.”

I press my fingers into my forehead. “You’re giving me a fucking headache, Bankes. Can you get to the fucking point?”

“You looked lonely. Thought I’d have lunch with my teammate.” Slurp. Slurp. “And I promised my wife I’d get the tea.” Slurp. Slurp.

“Tea?”

“Gossip.”

“You suck at the tea business. Getting and spilling.”

“Guess you don’t want to know what I know then.”

“For fuck’s sake, Bankes. You’re gonna get your ass kicked if you don’t just come out with whatever the fuck your wife sent you here to tell me or ask me.”

Finally, he pushes his bowl aside and rests his elbows on the table. “Riley’s worried about Kendall. She was hurt pretty bad by a shitty ex and has trust issues.”

She alluded to as much, hence our friends with benefits relationship. “I know.”

Bankes’s brow lifts again. “Do you?”

“A little.” Not enough.

“This arrangement you two have.” Fuck. So he knows. I don’t want anyone to think less of Kendall because of it. “You good keeping things status quo or...?”

I tip my chin up. “Or.” Not a question. A statement.

He holds out his fist across the table and I stare at it. “Dude. You want my help getting your girl?”

Christ. I’d love to tell him to fuck off.

“Jackass.” I bump his fist.