I flinch at her honesty, but I know that it comes from her heart. She, like me, doesn’t show feelings well. This is how she cares. Brutal honesty.
I shake my head from side to side while I consider how to verbalize it simply. “I don’t even know how to explain it. It started with not getting drafted. Then I met someone that I don’t understand. And I guess I’m feeling a little lost.”
Her mouth is set in a hard line as she nods along while I speak, but her eyes soften after narrowing slightly.
“What do I do?” I mutter, more to myself than aloud as I drop onto the bench beside me. She hears me like always. I swear she has some kind of superpower hearing.
She lowers herself much more gracefully than I had and gently nudges me with her shoulder. “Ya just gotta keep waking up every day and do the best ya can with whatcha got. That’s all any of us can do.”
My traitorous eyes burn with tears I try to hold back. They’re gathered in my lashes when I look up to her and she nods. Everything in my life right now feels like such a mess. But she’s right. Worrying myself to death over life outside of my control isn’t going to get me anywhere.
I need to sit down and do what I’ve always done.
I need to make a new plan.
I need to organize my thoughts.
Feeling as though a small weight has been lifted from my shoulders, I nod back and offer a small smile hoping it looks better than it feels. It must be sufficient because Coach is up and on her way to the doors.
“Grab a shower before the team meeting, Red. Ya stink.” She winks as she shoves through the door and a barking laugh bursts out of me in the quiet locker room.
A blistering-hot shower later, I’m a little more ready to take on the list of things piling up in my brain, starting with the most recent distraction.
I text Kodi and toss my phone back in my locker, grab my binder, and sprint down the hallway for our two-hour team meeting I’m almost late for.
Spending time with the girls and coaches on the team, planning and talking, has helped me relax exponentially. We’re chatting and laughing as we all carry our bags and books to our cars in the back parking lot.
I’m closer to the back of the small mass of women when we approach the sidewalk. Abruptly, everyone stops in their tracks and silence overcomes the group. Curiosity wins the war waging within me, and I make my way to the front.
My face, neck and chest heat with a furious blush, and I whip myself back around to face my team who’s now smiling and snickering at me. Even Coach’s eyes volley between us with a knowing smirk on her face as she offers me a small nod with something in her eyes I can’t place.
Swallowing my embarrassment, I slowly turn back to where Kodi stands against a massive pickup truck. Not a quiet one ofcourse, like black or white. It’s painted a bright tealish-green with an exuberant amount of glass flake making it sparkle and seemingly change color depending on your view of it.
I wish I could make this up, but the man is actually standing in front of his truck with a giant sign with my name on it like someone picking up a celebrity at the airport. Like I wouldn’t have seen him or his weird mermaid truck blocking the path to my car.
“Hey, Frostbite!” he hollers much louder than necessary, causing me to hide behind my hands for a second, quickly shuffling towards him.
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
His smile only grows. “You accepted my invitation to dinner, and I didn’t want to give you a chance to change your mind.”
I shake my head and snatch the sign out of his hands. “And that included making a public scene?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he purrs as he leans in and drops a kiss on my temple.
There’s a cacophony of oohs and aahs behind me. I snap a quick glare at the girls, with the tiniest bit of hope that they’ll knock it off, knowing it’ll likely only fuel the fire.
Kodi is either completely oblivious, doesn’t care, or is totally tuning it all out. Remembering that he’s a professional football player doesn’t help. Now, I don’t know if their attention is on Kodi himself or the situation, and it causes an ugly, oily feeling to crawl along my body.
I nearly whirl around to say . . . I don’t know what . . . but something, when he catches me around the waist and redirects me to the passenger side of his truck. “Whoa, there Ice Queen. No need to go all big green monster on your team.” His voice islight and attempting to humor me, but I also detect a fine line of . . . is that pride.
“Pssh,” is all I’m able to respond because I’m still processing the fact that that’s exactly what just happened.
I got jealous.
Of a man I barely know.
That still might turn out to be a crazy person.
