Loving Him Off the Field (Santa Fe Bobcats #2)(57)
Josiah shrugged, having made the offer, and headed back to his locker to pack his bag. But when Killian slung his gym bag over his shoulder, Trey walked up.
“Just grab a quick bite with us.” When Killian opened his mouth to argue, Trey shot him a look that would have a three-hundred-pound linebacker second-guessing a sack. “Whatever your argument is, consider it invalid.”
He tried to think of a way to say I have to call my son, without actually saying he had a son. Yeah, there was none. So he took the path of least resistance and nodded. “I’ll follow you.”
As they walked out together—Trey, Josiah, Michael Lambert and Killian—he caught sight of Aileen waiting against a wall. When she saw him, her face lit up. His own body tightened in response to being close to her. The urge to reach out and grab her, pull her against his side and keep her closer—not to mention, shelter her from the other guys on the team—was as foreign as it was unwelcome. He had no time for this crap.
She started toward him, but he shook his head, tilted it slightly toward the group he walked with, and kept on. Maybe it made him an * that he didn’t stop to tell him what he was doing . . . but she wasn’t his mother, or his girlfriend. And he wasn’t about to give the guys ammo to mock him. She halted in mid-stride, her head tilted to one side in a curious, observant sort of way. Then she smiled, nodded and gave him a quiet little wave.
Twenty minutes later, he’d made his phone call to Charlie—a call in which Emma had been exceedingly polite, with none of the warmth they’d developed between them in the last few years—and pulled up to a sports bar. He followed the group in and sat in a corner, partially shielded from the crowd. Trey and Josiah sat with their backs to the rest of the restaurant. As they were the two most recognizable faces from the team, Killian couldn’t fault them for it.
They ordered food—sticking with water, though they all joked about wanting something stronger. The waitress must have been around for a while, as she didn’t blink an eye at having four Bobcats sitting in her section. When the menus were gone and they had a few minutes to themselves before their food arrived, Michael asked, “So how’s Cassie?”
Trey raised a brow at him. “She’s fine.”
There was an awkward pause, then Michael kicked at Trey under the table. “That’s all? Come on, man. We need more than that. What’s dating the coach’s daughter like? Does he give you weird, fatherly talks when you pick her up? Is it awkward when he’s yelling at your ass on the sidelines?”
“It’s . . .” Trey sighed, then looked around. They were on an island to themselves in the corner where their table sat. “It’s weird, and not. We don’t spend time over at their house. She’s got sisters, and they’re young enough it would be wrong to be hanging out too much over there. Plus, Cassie lives in the pool house out back, so it’s not like she shares a wall with Coach or anything.”
“Small favors,” Josiah said under his breath with a grin. Trey elbowed him hard.
“So she’s mostly over at my place. We’re just keeping it quiet as much as we can. No nights out, no public outings or events together. We want to get through this season and then we’ll evaluate how to handle it from here. But as far as how Coach treats me on the sidelines . . .” Trey smiled and tugged at his earlobe. “Trust me, when he wants to ride me, he knows how to do it. I think my eardrum is still ringing from practice today.”
“Because you were throwing like you had rocks in your wrists,” Josiah added helpfully, dodging another elbow. “Man, watch out. That’s my cradling arm.”
Killian watched the by-play quietly. But he had to know. “Doesn’t the media attention suck?”
“Yes,” was Trey’s immediate reply. “But what the hell else am I going to do about it? I love her.”
“Aww,” Michael sang.
Trey ignored that. “So I put up with it, because it’s just part of the package. I won’t always be doing this. In another ten years, I’ll be ‘that one guy who used to play for the Bobcats.’ I can put up with it, for her.”
Wiping away an imaginary tear, Michael sniffed delicately. “That was beautiful, man.”
“Watch it, or a stray ball will just magically find its way toward your head tomorrow.” Trey looked at Killian. “You’ve been dealing with your fair share of media lately. What’s going on there?”
Three pair of eyes were immediately focused on him like laser beams. Wow. “Fre—Aileen?” he quickly corrected. “She’s just trying to dig up dirt for some piece on me. She’s coming up with bupkus. With season ending so soon, she knows time’s running out.” He glanced at them. “Why, has she asked about me?”
“Yes,” all three answered in unison. Killian groaned.
“Say nothing.”
Silence was his answer.
“Come on, help me out here. I want this to end. I’m not made for attention. Otherwise I would have played a more noticeable position.”
“Like me?” Trey asked, a wry smile twisting his lips. “Hardly. I don’t know if anyone is ‘made’ for having their private life become a public spectacle. It’s just something we end up putting up with because of the job we chose. I hate it, to be honest. If I could play ball in a ski mask and use a pseudonym, I would. But this is the way it is.”