Jane exits my office and interrupts us.
“Hey guys I’m going on a bagel run. There’s a new bakery next door that makes gluten free ones. Would you two like anything? I heard they make amazing bagels, muffins and scones there.”
“No thank you, Jane. Coop doesn’t do baked goods during the season, and I’m going to pass too.”
She looks mortified.
“Oh my God, I forgot about your strict eating regimen during the season. Looks like I have a lot more to learn. I apologize.”
“Not a big deal.”
“I’ll be back in literally ten minutes.”
“No problem, Perez. Go ahead. We don’t punch a clock here.”
After Jane leaves, I turn to go to my office. I want to say something to Coop about what’s going on with me, but I don’t know how to say it because when I do, it will change everything.
“I’m not going to ask you again, Owens. What the hell is going on? You’re quitting on me, you’re going on dates with reporters, you kiss me then pretend like you didn’t for days—”
I stop and turn around to face him.
“I kissed you?”
“Of course, you did. You couldn’t help yourself.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“How much do you really remember about it all? Maybe you need your memory refreshed.”
“Maybe I do.” I flirt.
“Oh, that’s it … something is definitely fucking up.”
“I talked to Jim.”
“What did that prick say?” he demands to know, practically spitting nails.
“He said quite a bit, but what I want to know from you is did you have a nickname as a kid?”
“Did I what?”
“A nickname.”
He nods his head no.
“I need you to be honest with me?”
I grab his hand.
It’s warm and large and calloused.
I slide my fingers through his.
“What was your nickname?”
“Fuck me,” he mutters. Then he kisses my knuckles and then finally starts talking. “Football was my saving grace; it got me to come out of my shell because when I was a kid I was a loner. That’s why my family used to call me the lone wolf or just wolf.”
I squeeze his hand.
