Grant remained quiet as Drew walked away. Once our offensive coordinator was gone, my cousin puckered his lips and blew. “Damn, you kissed some ass.”
“I think the word you’re looking for iskicked.”
“Offense is only half of the game. I was at the defense practice this morning. I’ll talk to Darius Brown. He’s our?—”
“Stop being so fucking condescending,” I interrupted. “I know who Darius is. He’s our defensive coordinator. I could list the position coaches for you too, but you’re not worth the effort.” When Grant didn’t reply, I went on, “I’m going to stay with the offense for now. I don’t half-ass things. Once I’m more comfortable with the offense, I’ll learn about the defense.”
Grant lifted his hands, palms toward me. “Fine. I gave you an out yesterday.”
“I don’t need you to save me.”
He quirked his dark eyebrows. “Speaking of yesterday, I went back to your office around five. Jen told me that you were still in your office with Griffin Graham.Did you mention that long one-on-one meeting when you went home to Preston?”
“Preston and I don’t live together, not that my living arrangements are any of your damn business.”
“You spoke, right? I’m talking about the man you’re supposed to be seeing.”
The small hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. “Preston and I had a short conversation as I was driving home. He’s busy in Bowling Green with Meadow Farms business.”
“Convenient. I get it; you didn’t mention the Fin meeting. What were you two talking about for hours?”
Taking off my sunglasses, I stared at Grant. “Why did you come back to my office?”
“Giving you another chance to get out of this.”
I shook my head. “I’m getting some lunch and checking my emails.”
“This afternoon is position practice.”
“Drew gave me a schedule. Don’t you have something you need to do, maybe with communications?”
“You’re right. I do.”
“I’m going,” I said as I walked away.
I placed my sunglasses on the top of my head as I entered the building. The air conditioning cooled my skin, covering my arms with goose bumps. There was an hour and a half before the next practice session. My growling stomach wanted me to go to lunch before emails.
The tables in the cafeteria were filling fast. Some of the players appeared to have showered, while others looked sweatier rather than water wet. They were all out of their pads and practice uniforms and wearing t-shirts, nylon shorts, and basketball shoes. Their attire made me grin, reminding me of what Fin wore yesterday.
“Welcome, Miss Maeve,” Janice, one of the Coopers’ top nutritionists, said, meeting me near the entrance. “I heard you were out with the practice this morning.”
“Rumors travel fast.”
“I overheard some talk. Sounds like you impressed Mr. Pratt.”
I lifted my cheeks in a smile. “I’m glad you didn’t overhear that I was a royal screwup or in the way.”
Janice laughed. “No one would say that.”
“What do we have for lunch?”
“Lots of protein. I can get you something.”
I peered toward the line at the counter. “I’m good. I’ll decide what I want as I wait.”
“You sure?”
“Yep, thank you, Janice.”
