I swallow. “He’s holding himself back.”
“I know he is, but there’s more going on than you know.”
French Roast’s words come back to me.There’s more to life than rugby.He also said Bean is going through something, but who isn’t? I’ve got the nonsense with Lola, I heard Tink complaining about his neighbors the other day, and French never has down time because he’s always either at practice or at the firehouse where he works. But unlike Bean, the rest of us don’t let our issues affect our game.
“Then have Coach suspend Bean from the team so he can deal with his crap,” I suggest. “Give someone else a chance on the pitch.”
Moxie’s expression tightens. “That’s why I’m here.”
“To tell me you’re finally pulling Bean off the starting line?”
“To tell you I’m pullingyouoff the line.”
I freeze, gripping my fork tightly in my fist. “What?” I would tell him he doesn’t have that power, captain or not, but if Moxie doesn’t sign off on something, Evanson doesn’t sign off, and Coach values his paycheck too much to defy the Thunder owner. Moxie basically runs the Thunder, which wouldn’t be a problem if he would get his head out of the sand when it comes to Bean.
Whatever he sees in my expression, Moxie clenches his jaw in response. “Look, you’re a good player, Logan. And those guys out there want to win as much as you do. But we’ve become a family, and that means we look out for each other. We don’t just drop people on the side of the road when they don’t suit our needs.”
I hold back a derisive laugh. That’s what my birth mum did to me, and I turned out fine. “You don’t want to do this, mate.”
“You’re right, which is why I’m giving you a chance to change my mind.”
He’s seriously thinking of pulling me off the pitch when I’m the only bloke on the team with any consistent scoring? “How?” I growl, imagining myself watching the next match from the sidelines. Anger bubbles up in my chest. Ineedto play.
Moxie narrows his eyes. “Show me you’re a part of this team, Logan. You’re not a one-man show.”
“How am I supposed to—”
“Compliments.”
I snort.
“Helpfultips.”
“My tips are help—”
“Keeping your mouth shut when you don’t have anything nice to say.”
He must be joking. “I don’t—”
“This isn’t a game, Logan. You have a week to prove to me you’re more than your ego. Until then, you’re a sub.”
I open my mouth to argue that he’s making a massive mistake, but my phone buzzes in my pocket, distracting me. It’s for the best, knowing how easily my frustration taints what I say lately.
Some of my irritation fizzles when I see that it’s Savannah who texts me, but then I read her text.
Savannah:
ROafbgppm chi
I frown down at the screen.What?
“Everything okay?” Moxie asks.
“Yeah, just…” I trail off when it says she’styping.
Savannah:
Stupid cat.
