Down and Dirty (Hot Jocks #5)(52)

He nods. “Understood. Well, then speak with your wife, and we’ll talk through all the details in the morning. It’s all going to work out fine, okay, kid?”

“Thanks, Coach.”

The only thing running through my brain on the drive home is Aubree.

Worst-case scenario is I’m not picked up by another team and have to move to Wisconsin to take a pay cut and play for our affiliate team. Best-case scenario? Well, there is no best case, because I’m going to have to move. That much is certain. And I have no idea if Aubree will quit her job and come with me, or if she’ll finally just say fuck it to this whole experiment and walk away from our marriage for good.

When I pull into my building’s parking garage, I can’t make myself get out of the car and go inside. Instead, I pull out my phone and dial Aubree while a knot forms in my stomach.

She answers on the third ring. “Hey,” she says casually. “What’s up?”

“Can I, ah, talk to you?”

“Um . . .” She hesitates. “Now? Can it wait until tonight? I’ve got a couple of documents I need to finish up.”

“What about lunch?” I ask, looking at the clock on my dash. “Have you eaten yet?”

She must sense the worry in my voice because she concedes. “I haven’t. Do you want to come by the office? We can grab something quick and talk then.”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in . . . thirty, depending on traffic. That work?”

“Sure. I’ll see you then.”

The drive to Aubree’s office is fairly simple, and though I’ve never been here before, I do know the area well. I find parking behind the two-story concrete block building and then let myself inside. There’s a reception desk, but no one working behind it, so I wander around until I find her office. Her name is etched into a silver placard outside the door.

Aubree Derrick.

I pause, staring at it for a second.

We had the discussion once about if she’d ever want to change her name, not because I would ever pressure her to do so, but because I was genuinely curious about her stance on it. She said that as a modern, independent woman, she couldn’t really ever see herself taking a man’s name. I told her that was fine with me, but as I stare at this little sign, I find myself wishing it read AUBREE COVINGTON. And maybe if it did, everything wouldn’t have to fall apart.

“Oh! You’re here,” Aubree says, rising to her feet and coming around the side of the L-shaped desk that takes up most of her small office. “Traffic must have been clear,” she says, lifting up on her toes to press a quick kiss to my lips.

“Yeah, it was nonexistent.”

I take her left hand, giving it a squeeze, and run my fingers along her wedding ring.

“Are you okay?” She meets my eyes with a look of concern. “You sounded a little . . . stressed on the phone.”

I nod. “Yeah, but something’s come up.”

She licks her lips. “Something good or something bad?”

I consider her question. “I don’t know yet.”

An older man dressed in khakis with hair graying at his temples steps out of a nearby office and into the hall. He must have overheard us talking and has come out to investigate.

“Oh, David,” Aubree says, appearing a little flustered. “This is Landon.” She gestures toward me. “And this is my boss, David Stone.”

I extend my hand toward him as he approaches. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Landon, was it?” he asks, returning my handshake.

“Yes. I’m Aubree’s husband.”

“Oh.” David’s eyes widen and he lets out an uneasy laugh.

Obviously, Aubree never told him about me. I wish I could say that didn’t bother me, but it does. It really, really fucking does.

“Well, that’s um . . .” He clears his throat as if stalling. “You guys must be getting excited for the big move then.”

“The big move?” I ask, my gaze darting between Aubree and her boss.

“Yes, to Vancouver,” he says casually.

Completely confused, I slowly repeat, “Vancouver.”

David’s brow furrows even more. “Aubree’s accepted a promotion to open and run the first international office for us.”

All the blood drains from my face, and my stomach sours. “She has.”

I don’t pose it as a question because the pained look on Aubree’s features says it all. She’s been pretending this entire time. Playing house with me while simultaneously planning to leave. And not just leave me, but leave the entire fucking country.

Her boss is still talking, saying something about what a great opportunity this is, but I can’t hear anything over the blood thundering in my ears. And when I look up, all I can see is the painful truth reflected back at me in Aubree’s eyes.

“Landon,” she says, taking a step closer.

I hold up one hand. “You know what? I just realized I don’t have time for lunch. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Without waiting to hear her answer, I turn, my feet already carrying me toward the door while my heart sinks into my stomach.

“Wait! Landon, please,” Aubree calls after me, but I don’t stop.

Completely numb, I speed through every light on the drive home, reaching my place in under twenty minutes. I’ve only just gotten inside the front door when it opens again.