Page 60 of The Defender

“You already apologized. Don’t worry about it.”

I’d been annoyed at the time, but I’d gotten over it. I hadn’t expected Adil to still be beating himself up over it.

“Okay. As long as you’re not mad at me,” he said anxiously.

“I’m not.” I clapped a hand on his shoulder before rising to my feet. “But I’m going to turn in early. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Noah was already gone. I said goodbye to the rest of the guys and slipped out before they could guilt-trip me into staying longer. I was going to miss the start ofBake Off, and Brooklyn still hadn’t texted me back.

I tried not to think about it as I walked to my room. She was probably busy with something else. She said she’d turned down a date with Mason, so she?—

A door to my left opened. “DuBois.”

My steps faltered as Coach stepped into the corridor. “Hey, Boss.”

He raised his eyebrows and glanced over my shoulder. Muffled shouts and laughter leaked out from Adil’s hotel room. “Do I want to know what’s going on in there?”

I discreetly pushed my copy ofFucking My Theropod Therapistdeeper into my pocket. “Not really, no.” I swallowed, then added, “I’m sorry we let you down today.”

I hated disappointing myself, but I hated disappointing him more.

“You didn’t,” he said gruffly. “The entire team fought like hell out there. Sometimes that’s enough. Sometimes it isn’t. That’s the nature of the game. What matters is getting back up after you’ve been knocked down. You got that?”

“Yes, sir.” He’d given us a similar pep talk in the changing room after the match, but I’d needed to hear it again. This job could really fuck with your head if you let it.

“I’m glad I caught you because there’s something else I wanted to discuss. It’s about Brooklyn.”

My whole body tensed with foreboding. Sweat slicked down my spine, and I had to fight to keep my voice even.

“Oh?” I managed. “What about her?”

He couldn’t know about our living situation. If he did, he wouldn’t be this calm—unless he was trying to lull me into a false sense of security.

A golf ball lodged itself in my throat.

Coach ran a hand over his face. “Normally, I wouldn’t do this. I hate mixing work and family, but Jones said she still hasn’t accepted his job offer. The deadline is in a month, and you’re friends with her. Has she…said anything to you about it?”

“No.” Technically true. She’d never told me why she hadn’t accepted the offer yet. “I’m sure she’s just doing her due diligence. A permanent position is different from an internship.”

Coach sighed. “You’re probably right. She has a good head on her shoulders. She knows what she’s doing. But don’t, ah, tell her that I asked, okay? I don’t want her to think I’m sneaking around behind her back.”

“I won’t.” I hesitated, then added, “Your relationship with Brooklyn is none of my business, sir, but—and this is just a suggestion—perhaps you might want to talk to her yourself instead of asking her friends. I have a feeling she’d appreciate it.”

He stared at me.

Shit. Had I crossed way over the line?

I held still, worried the slightest muscle twitch would set him off.

“Get some rest,” he finally said. “We have an early morning.”

I didn’t release my breath until he disappeared around the corner, toward the vending machines.

By the time I got to my room,Bake Offhad already started

I checked my phone again. Still no reply from Brooklyn.

I set it aside and focused on the TV, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t enjoy the episode as much as I wanted to.