Page 37 of Nailing Heat

He nods again. “Alright, well, take some time before jumping into anything.”

“Is this your way of warning me off of the girls on the team? Because I’m not looking to start something with one of them. Especially Amelia since we live together. Unless you’re here to tell me that you found me a new place.” I place my hands tighter in prayer, hoping he’s here with that good piece of news.

He chuckles. “No, still no updates on that front. I have no further update than what I told you on the plane ride over. I was watching the game.”

I chuckle. “I love that for you. You were actually watching a women’s soccer team play.”

“You think I wouldn’t?”

“I think that the August I know wouldn’t necessarily enjoy watching it. That he would rather be with Drew watching the Marlins play,” I tease him.

“If I’m doingthis,really owning a team, then I’m going to watch them play and root for them just as hard. I’m their biggest fan,” he says chuckling, August is trying to make light of my observation but he’s failing. I know him. He’s proud to be the owner of the Blaze. I love that for him.

“I’m proud of you, man,” I reply. “I’m sure your dad is too.”

“Oh, well, the only thing that makes Maxwell happy is seeing the revenue numbers finally moving in an upward direction.” He shakes his head. “But thanks, that means a lot.”

I nod. “Of course. What does Maxwell think of you owningthe team where Hendrix plays? Because the first I met him, he was yelling at you for sulking over her.”

“I wasnotsulking over her.” He shakes his finger at me, punctuating his words.

“Whatever you say, dude.”

“I don’t think he remembers her, to be honest.” He winces when he says the sentence.

My eyes widen. “Are you kidding me? From what I remember, she was the subject of many arguments before I met you, and some after.”

“I know, I know. But I think he forget about her, so let’s not remind him.” He winks at me.

“I still can’t believe that I finally got to meet the famous Hendrix. It truly is a small world.” I shake my head.

I see something shift on in his posture; his shoulders slump a bit and he hangs his head. His eyes no longer meeting mine, which is not like August. He’s usually so sure of himself and with confidence that comes across in spades. But right now, he’s vulnerable and unsure of what he’s about to tell me.

“Yeah, that’s her. And boy, does she hate my guts,” he admits.

“I thought that was a thing you two did; the verbal sparring that I saw the other night. Made it seem like you’re not too fond of her either,” I explain to him.

“Easier that way, I guess. Besides, that’s all in the past and that’s where we are leaving it.” He shrugs again and looks back over at the team room.

“Maybe if you’re hoping for different, then don’t take such cheap shots at her.”

“I do not take cheap shots at her,” he assures me with defensiveness in his voice.

I raise my eyebrows, watching him. “You know you do.”

“Either way, it’s fine. She keeps on hating me and she thinks I hate her too. It all works out for everyone.”

“Are you sure about that?” I ask with genuine concern.

“Yeah, I’m sure about that.” He shakes his head. “Way to make this about me. I came in here to see why you were so worried about Amelia and you turn this on me. You’re clever.” He wags his finger at me. “You know they take hits like that. Takes them a minute to get up, but they all do, god willing.”

I nod. “Yeah, I never saw it before, and it looked like a hard hit.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, but I can tell by the playful tone of his voice that he doesn’t believe me. “Well, that’s good. Now it’s time to celebrate because we beat the Chicago Stars!” He yells the last part, and I hear cheers ringing out from the team room. I can’t be sure if they are cheering along with him or from something said in that room. Either way, August is smiling a mile wide as he stands back to full height. “I’m going to go congratulate them on their win. I’ll see you later, we’ll get drinks.”

“Sounds good, man. Thanks.”

August nods and he’s gone. I stand there thinking about what he said. I tell myself over and over again that my concern was because it was one of our players. And not becausetheplayer that it was. The hit looked really bad. This has nothing to do with Amelia. I remind myself of that again and again, as I grab my shit and prepare to meet up with the team.