"You're my agent for business. Not my life." I step closer, using every inch of my size. "Scout's your ex. That means she's none of your concern. And you sure as hell don't get to tell me what to do."
Enzo's jaw ticks. Something flashes in his eyes. Anger maybe, or satisfaction he got a reaction. "Fine. But when you need to retire early because you're too broken to play, don't say I didn't warn you. We could find you something moresuitable than a has-been ex-wife who couldn't even keep her own marriage together."
"Are you offering to be a matchmaker for me now? Isn't that a little fucking none of your business?"
My fist curls tighter. I want to swing. My greatest desire is to break Enzo's perfect teeth and shatter that smug smile. My arm pulls back half an inch before I catch myself.
I can't hit. Not here. Not with security cameras everywhere and media still lingering in the building. Even if I did get into a fight with Enzo, he's a tall, broad dude. And I'm injured.
It seems unwise, all things considered.
"I'm done with you," I say. My voice comes out low and lethal. "After my contract renewal closes, we're done. Find yourself a new client."
Enzo laughs, throwing me off balance. "You can't fire me, Huxley. I've got deals in motion. Equipment sponsors. Energy drink companies. Appearance fees. Endorsements worth millions. You walk away now, you lose all of it."
"I don't deal with bullshit like this. So make your deals, Enzo," I grit out. "But come February, you're gone. And if you say one more word about Scout, I'll fire you today. I'd rather take the financial hit than let you think for one second you control her or me."
I shove past him, shoulder burning, fists shaking. It's an effort not to turn around and finish this the way my body wants to.
He calls after me, voice echoing down the concrete hallway. "Scout drags partners down, Huxley. It's what she does. Don't say I didn't warn you."
I keep walking. If I stop, I'll do something I can't take back. Something that will end up on every sports news site and probably get me suspended.
The cold air in the parking lot hits my face like a slap. I stand there for a minute, breathing hard, trying to calm the rage burning through my chest.
Enzo's never done well with being told he can't touch something. Scout's a prime example. He had her and threw her away and now he can't stand that someone else might want what he discarded.
That night's game is a disaster.
We play like we've never met each other before. Passes die on sticks. Coverage gaps open wide enough to drive a truck through. I watch, dying inside, as my teammates can't seem to get their shit together. And I’m stuck here riding the bench, impossibly angry.
We lose by three.
Scout's waiting by my truck when I get to the parking lot. She's wrapped her arms around herself against the cold, breath coming out in visible clouds. Her dark blonde curls are wild from the wind, falling loose around her shoulders. She's in those black leggings that drive me crazy and an oversized Havoc hoodie that swallows her frame. No makeup, cheeks pink from the cold, green eyes tracking me as I approach. Even freezing and windblown, she's beautiful. Too beautiful for someone like me to deserve.
She doesn't ask how I'm feeling or offer empty platitudes. She just opens the driver’s door and climbs in.
The drive back to my condo is silent. Tense. My mind spins through the game on repeat, looking for angles I missed, plays I could've made differently. The thing is, I give this sport every piece of me. Discipline in the kitchen, punishment in the gym, film until my vision blurs. Perfect habits don't guarantee results. Sometimes it still fails me.
As we head upstairs, Scout touches my arm. Her voice isthe same as her touch, light and careful. "It's okay to have an off night."
Her soft voice saying exactly what I need to hear cracks something in my chest. I sigh, shoulders dropping an inch. "Today was tough."
"I know." She unlocks the door to the condo. "Tomorrow will be too. Especially with finding a new agent."
I freeze halfway through the doorway. "How'd you know about that?"
"Enzo can't keep his mouth shut. He's already been texting people. Word travels fast in this organization." She doesn't look at me, just moves into the kitchen to fill a glass with water. "You should fire him. Why don't you?"
I look at her. "It's complicated."
"He treats you like garbage. How is that complicated?"
"He gets results." The same excuse I've used for three years. "Knows people. Knows how to work the system."
"That's worth putting up with him?"
"I didn't say that."
