Page 7

Chapter seven

Kade

Coach Wilson: We need to see you immediately, in my office.

Me: Okay. I'll be there in ten.

"Hey, do you think you can give me a ride to the stadium?" I ask Shane. "I'm feeling a little hungover. And I don’t need to get into any more trouble."

"That's the truth,” Shane chuckles.

I send him a scathing look, responding, "Not cool, man."

He puts his hands up in surrender, nodding his head. "Let me text Janae to let her know that I’m heading out," he says, pulling his phone out.

We both stand up from the couch. Looking around, I find my wallet and keys, tucking them away into the pocket.

"Ready?" Shane asks me while pocketing his own phone.

"Yep." At that moment, Sam comes back out of the room. She looks between the two of us as I say, "We have to go talk with the coaches, but I'll be back soon and we can figure out this mess."

"Okay," she mumbles, turning back toward the hotel room.

Not ready or willing to dissect what has occurred between me and Sam or what it means for our future, I decide facing the coaches of the team sounds better than whatever is going on here.

We both walk out and head toward the parking lot.

The moment we get in the car, Shane breaks his silence.

"What do you think they want to talk about? "

"They didn't say, but I assume it has to do with this getting married shit. It's been blasted all over the place," I say, looking out the window, watching the view pass by.

Shane doesn't respond right away, not until we pull into the parking lot.

"No matter what they say, it's going to be okay. I'm here for you," he says as he places his hand on my shoulder.

"Thanks, man," I say, opening the car door. Taking a deep breath, I pull every ounce of courage that I have and walk to the admin offices. The door to the coach’s office is closed, making me have to dig deep for more courage just to knock.

It feels like the inevitable is taking forever—an obstacle every step of the way.

Thankfully, the man on the other side of the door answers right away, "Come in."

Pushing the door open, I come face to face with the coaches of the team along with the general manager, all looking as if they are ready to slice and dice me. I take a deep breath and take a step over the threshold.

"Have a seat," the coach says, pointing to the chair that sits in front of the firing squad.

I don't respond, just follow the instructions that are given. As a kid, I learned quickly not to admit to anything, but to sit and allow those who are upset to come to me instead of the other way around.

Coach Wilson stares at me for a beat. The room silent, filled with tension. But I keep my guard up and continue to stay silent. Finally, he slams a tabloid down on the table, making a thud. "Tell me what the hell is this shit?" he demands.

I glance down at the paper sitting in front of me and I cringe a bit when I see the picture. When I get a closer look though, it's a good-looking picture of us. I mean, it almost convinced me, but I know better. It's all bullshit.

Coach slams his fist onto the table again, screaming, "Well? Open your mouth!"

"I got married," is all I say with a shrug of my shoulders.

"Tell me this isn't some drunken move? If so, you are on your last strike."

Fuck. I take a deep breath and try to come up with a good excuse in the next few seconds.

When I first came in here, I had all the intentions of coming clean and admitting to making a mistake but after this I’m at a loss.

Then it hits me—I just have to convince Sam to stay married.

We can be married for a year, then get divorced and no one will think anything of it. We will just be a regular couple.

Before the silence gets too long, I reply, "We are in love and decided we couldn't wait any longer, so we eloped."

"Are you serious?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes."

Coach then straightens in his seat, and I watch as he visibly calms himself. "Well, I’m happy for you. Why don’t you bring her to the team dinner in a few weeks? I’m sure everyone would love to meet her."

"I'll have to see if she's free. She's finishing up her last semester of school.” I give him my signature smile.

"Great!" Coach says, standing up for his desk, placing his hand out. I follow suit.

"Thank you, sir,” I say, dropping the handshake before making my way toward the door. Before I’m able to make my escape, Coach's voice freezes me in my tracks.

"Thank you, Kade. I’m proud of you. This is a good step for you and the team."

I just nod and try to get out of the room as quickly as possible. My stomach fills with a brick-sized amount of guilt, making me feel sick. Fuck. This is so bad. How the hell am I going to convince Sam to do this? She's going to have my balls and so will Coach when this all blows up in my face.

Exiting the administrative area of the stadium, I'm greeted with Shane sitting on the chair. He looks up from his phone. "Hey, how did it go?"

"As good as it could," I reply.

"You’re still part of the team?” he asks.

“Yep.”

“Do you know how you're going to handle this?" he asks me.

"No," I state, but don't explain any further. If I'm going to figure out how to convince Sam to go with my plan, I can't tell anyone else about it.

"Ready to go?" I ask him, wanting to get out of here. It's time for me to get home and gather my thoughts. I need every chance to present my case. Sam can be stubborn, but she's also willing to give the shirt off her back for those she cared about.