Page 12

Chapter Twelve

ROWAN

T revor’s laugh has my head snapping up as I fight to wipe the grin off my face.

“She’s making fun of you, isn’t she?” He smirks as he pushes the cart ahead of me, which has the effect of him missing the scowl I throw his way.

Every Saturday for the two years we’ve been roommates, Trevor drags me to the big grocery store on the edge of town and makes me push the cart around while he throws in a fuck ton of stuff I’ve never heard of. Moving in with a culinary arts major seemed like a great idea at first. I pretty much have a live-in chef, but it’s times like this that I yearn for the frat house.

“I can feel you giving me your scary coach face!” he singsongs from the end of the aisle.

“I don’t have a coach face!” I storm after him, pushing the cart with one hand and scrolling back through my texts with Ruth with the other. I’m about to reply to her middle finger emoji when the cart jolts as it hits the edge of one of the displays. Shit. Apparently not texting and driving also applies to grocery carts…

I pocket the device and put both hands firmly on the handle. As I look up, I catch Trevor’s lanky frame turning left at the end of the aisle.

Motherfucker…

“Trev! We had a deal, man!” I start jogging after him but it’s hard to catch up when I’m trying to maneuver this thing. I know he can hear me, that bastard, but he waltzes into the cheese section regardless.

“Dude,” I pant, breathing hard. Hell, I have to do some more conditioning if this is wearing me out. “We said we’d do cheese last.”

“But it’s right here. It doesn’t make sense to do it last!”

“You always spend thirty fuckin’ minutes here. At least if we do it after everything else, we can just pay and get the fuck home before I try to seal myself in one of the freezers.”

“Ro, if we do baked goods now, then we’ll have to double back, and it’ll cut into our browsing time.” We’re kind of on the clock here. I have a meeting with Fitz in an hour.

“You don’t need browsing time. You get the same three cheeses every trip.”

“What if I wanted to mix it up?”

“Do you?”

“The question is, do you?” His question earns him a glare. “You’re telling me it wouldn’t bother you if I changed what I’m using in my cheese sauce?”

I try to stare him down, but he’s a stubborn bastard when he wants to be.

I sigh, knowing when to admit defeat. “Why mess with a good thing?”

“Maybe this week I want to branch out? Try some gouda?”

“We’re not getting fuckin’ gouda.” The guys already give me plenty of shit about the times Trev’s packed me a lunch. I’m not throwing fancy cheese into the mix.

“Let’s divide and conquer. You go do bread, and I’ll stay here.” Trevor shrugs. “That way, you can get your protein shakes and keep the roid rage at bay.”

“I’m not on fuckin’ steroids!” I hiss, my eyes darting around as if someone from the NCAA is going to pop out from between the cans of spray cheese.

He just raises an eyebrow at me, getting exactly the reaction he wanted. I grab the cart and storm away, only narrowly avoiding taking out an elderly woman browsing yogurt as I swing it in a wide circle.

“Hey!” Trevor laughs. “I need that!”

He brushes my hands away from the handle and deftly takes it back to where he had been standing. I almost growl at how easy he makes it look. I’m the scholarship athlete here, but he’s making me look like an ass.

I debate coming back on a separate trip to grab the protein powder just so I can tell Trevor to go fuck himself. But he’s right, I am running low. Instead, I have to balance it precariously on top of the loaves of bread I’ve bundled against my chest. He didn’t need the God damn cart!

I’m still seething as I round the top of the aisle and catch sight of Trevor. He grins, both dimples popping as he holds something up to show me.

“I found the butter you like!”

A reluctant smile creeps out. I really do like that butter, and the grocery store hardly ever has it. “Thanks, man.” I stoop to drop everything I’m holding into the cart, careful not to crush what Trev’s already picked out. He throws a meaningful stare at the protein powder. “Don’t say a thing,” I hiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His grin gets even wider. “Hurry up, you got places to be.”

“You were the one who-” I cut myself off, knowing there’s no point trying to argue.

Together, we manage to check out and get the stuff into the back of my truck pretty painlessly. I swear, half the reason Trevor still puts up with me is so he can make me haul shit around for him.

“Are you gonna tell me about her?” Trevor asks as he slams the passenger door. I’ve told him a hundred times to close it gently. Next time, I’m going to make him walk home.

“No,” I bite out.

“Why not?”

“Because there’s nothing to tell.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” He’s baiting me, but knowing that doesn’t mean I’m not going to fall for it. “It looks like you’re jumping at the phone every time it goes off.”

“That’s bullshit.”

I’ve barely gotten the words out when a buzz cuts through the cab. My hand shoots out without a thought, picking up the device. As I do that, the truck jolts a little. Trevor yells in surprise, grabbing the phone out of my hand and holding it above his head.

“Driving!” he yells.

“Fuck! Sorry! Sorry!”

“Dude! What the hell!”

“I know! I know!” I clamp both fists around the wheel, slowing to almost a crawl as I fight to get my breathing under control. What the hell was that? It was like I was possessed.

“Rowan-”

“Don’t,” I cut him off.

“But-”

“Just don’t say a word.”

We sit in silence for the rest of the drive.

My hands are still shaking from the near miss as I knock on Fitz’s door. Jonah Fitzpatrick has been head coach of Beaufort Football for the last thirteen years. I’ve been in this office more times than I can count, and next year, we’ll work together. But I still get a shiver of nerves every time I get called into a meeting.

His gruff voice summons me in and I push the door open. I don’t think this man’s ever fully shut it in his time here.

He doesn’t look up from his desk, shuffling around papers and scribbling something in his desk planner. The planner is covered in daisies, a joke from his wife after he nearly missed their anniversary, but that he now uses religiously. Nothing related to the football program happens without it going through the daisy diary. “Take a seat.”

He finally looks up at me, frowning as he takes in what must be a slightly frantic version of my usually composed self.

“Got a call from someone over at Allbreck.” His tone is level, but my stomach drops out. “Anything you want to tell me?”

Oh fuck. I don’t know what to say. I’m guessing he’s heard about what happened, and if he heard it from Allbreck, then it must have come from Ruth, right? If she’s reported it then I’ll back her up, but what if I’m wrong? What if this is about something else, and I drop the team in a load of shit without realizing it?

What they did was fucked up, and I’m not going to let it slide, but I can deal with it myself. Besides, if the Beaufort administration gets involved, they’re more likely to try and sweep the whole thing under the rug.

I must take too long mulling it over because Fitz clears his throat. “Apparently there was some incident involving a frog?”

“It’s a toad,” I mumble before thinking more about it.

“Is it now?”

Shit. He knows he’s got me backed into a corner. His gaze is hard and before I know it, the whole story has spilled out.

I know that the guys are going to hate me for this, especially Jed, who’ll probably face some serious consequences in the light of his track record. But honestly, the more I think about it, the less I care. She seemed fine the last time I saw her, but if Ruth’s called up the Allbreck staff, then she’s probably more upset than she let on. Who am I to do anything except support her?

I feel a little ill as I think about her face that night. If I could go back and undo it all, I would, even if it meant never meeting her; I wouldn’t want her to have to go through all that.

Fitz’s jaw is tight as he listens, his face as inscrutable as ever.

“And she was okay?” he asks.

“She seemed to be, I don’t know, we haven’t talked about it.”

He frowns, looking a little confused. “You’ve seen her?”

“I-um-yeah, I guess so.” I flounder. “I had to drop something off.”

“And that’s it?”

“We might have texted a little.”

If it had been anyone else, I’d have kept my cards closer to my chest, I hate it when people get in my personal business, but it isn’t like that with Fitz. Ever since I’d been a high school senior, he’d seen something in me; maybe he could sense how much I needed someone like him. He’s been one of the only positive role models I’ve had, I know I can come to him with anything and he’ll have my back. Even if having my back means chewing me out a little.

It’s kind of a relief when he tells me I’m a dumbass. With him, I don’t have to have it all together or have a solution to every problem. I can just be a guy on a college team with no clue what I’m doing. As much as it sucked going against my dad and coming to Beaufort, I’m happy every day that the choice brought me to Fitz.

“Just make sure you’re being careful, son.” His face gives nothing away.

“There’s nothing going on.”

He leans forward, trapping me with one of his patented stares. “You know why we can’t have anything fishy going on.”

“This isn’t the same.”

He raises an eyebrow and I squirm in my seat. Nobody else has the power to make me this nervous. “The reputation of this program is hanging by a thread. We can’t handle anyone looking at us the wrong way. You’re telling me there’s nothing going on and I’m gonna choose to believe you, but I’m telling you to tread real gentle, Rowan.”

I take in his stern expression, the lines of tension at his jaw and the corner of his eyes. He’s been fending off arrows from all sides since Coach Simmons left the team, burning everything to the ground on his way out. I don’t know how Fitz is keeping it all standing.

When the Assistant Coach for a D1 team runs out on his wife and toddler to take up with a nineteen-year-old cheerleader, it’s news. When everything blew up, Beaufort suddenly had all eyes on us. It’s a lot of the reason Allbreck were able to lure away half our recruits this season, nobody wanted to be associated with ‘that school’.

I know the trust it’s taking for Fitz to give me a chance on the staff and I don’t take it lightly.

“Yes, sir.” I nod.

“We gotta look squeaking clean this season and the bullshit with this young lady is not gonna fly. I’m gonna get to the bottom of all this and there are gonna be some very serious consequences. I’m not ruling out cutting some of you hooligans.”

I’m relieved to hear him say it. I assumed he’d get some pressure from higher up to go easy, particularly if he’s considering cuts.

“What do you need from me?” I ask.

“Keep your nose clean. I’m not gonna tell you to stay away from that girl, especially if you’re friends how you’re saying, but be very careful about how this could look.”

I chew the inside of my cheek as his words sink in. There’s nothing happening with Ruth the way he clearly thinks, even calling her a friend would be a stretch. But a guy who’s about to take up a staff position being seen with the student mascot of our fiercest rivals wouldn’t look good. To the guys on the team, or anyone else.

The smart thing would be to stay far away from her, but the thought of doing that makes me sad in a way I can’t explain. I just want one thing that’s for me, that makes me happy. Maybe a friendship with Ruth could be that thing, but only if I tread carefully.

“Okay, kid, get out of here.” Fitz starts packing his laptop away. “I got a dinner date with Margie and you’re not gonna make me late.”

“Yes, sir,” I rush out, thankful to be let off the hook.

He gives my hand a quick shake, the same way he’s ended every meeting I’ve ever had with him. “Gonna be weird not hearing you call me that next year.” The edge of his mouth kicks up in a half smile.

“I think I’ll always call you sir. Using your name wouldn’t feel right.” I give a halfhearted chuckle, even as I’m afraid it might be true. Maybe joining the staff is too big a leap, I don’t know if I’ll ever get past the way I’ve always seen him.

“Start practicing.” He claps me on the shoulder and strides out, leaving me to chase after him so he doesn’t lock the office door with me inside.