Malcolm leans down and whispers in my ear, “Please don’t make me stand up here alone.” The scent of his soap and oaky beard oil are both soothing and unsettling, if that’s even possible. His posture is calm, but his eyes are filled with dread as I stay seated.
Claire kicks my shin.
I grab Malcolm’s big hand, letting it enclose entirely around mine, and stand with him. Our team whistles, hoots, and hollers, adding more attention to this already dreadful moment. Malcolm’s hand finds its way to my lower back, and I lose all the air in my lungs. Sheer coincidence, I’m sure. The suffocatingfeeling is surely from the hundreds of eyes on us and not the graze of his thumb against the divot of my spine.
We wave and nod until the clapping slows. “I’m going to kill you,” I whisper to Malcolm as we finally take our seats.
He smiles behind his water glass. “I’m sorry. But we brought the best team this year. We have to at least act like it’s a big deal—for their sake.” He nods toward our team, who are clapping and watching the following team coaches stand and wave. We’ve started a chain reaction. He’s right, our kids are impressive, and I should flaunt it. It’s been almost fifteen years since Glendale has brought more than five students to this camp, and the fact that half of the team are female athletes is something I should revel in.
My girls are amazing.
“I can’t believe Tanner High didn’t bring a single football player,” Garrett whispers to the table. The boys begin murmuring over this information as Tanner’s head baseball coach sits down.
“Heard half their defensive end was caught at an underage party,” Birdie mumbles behind the screen of her phone, which has not left her hands since we walked into this lush conference room. Not gonna lie, I at least thought the boys from other teams would be enough to draw her attention away from her little device, but no such luck.
“You’ll have to lose the phone sometime this week, Ms. Whitmore.” Ignoring Malcolm’s statement, Birdie doesn’t miss a beat of her thumbs as she continues texting.
He gives me anI triedsentiment before shrugging his shoulders, like he could sense my feelings about her and the phone situation before I acknowledged them out loud. I don’t know how he does it, but Malcolm is always so in tune with everyone around him. It could be his years in the military, analyzing and assessing dangerous situations. You probablyneed a sixth sense to be effective. He doesn’t brag about this ability, though, and he definitely doesn’t let anyone be in tune with him for very long either.
A familiar ding comes from my pocket.
“Is that another match, I hear?” he teases. “Let me see.”
My voice comes out in a whispered shriek, “No way!”
“Why not?” Malcolm gives me his embarrassing attempt at a puppy-dog face that somehow always gets his way. Something about this strong, burly man looking soft around his eyes and lips has me losing all my willpower in an instant.
“Because this isn’t the place,” I whisper through gritted teeth.
“Come on, they won’t even notice.” He waves at the table. Ourimpressiveathletes are now fully immersed in their phones or the food that has now made its way to the table, oblivious to the outside world.
“I don’t want to look.” I stab a lettuce leaf and shovel it in my mouth. “Plus, why are you so interested?” With the food in my mouth, it comes outwhyyeryewsewntrusted,and Malcolm chokes out a laugh.
“I just think…” He pauses and takes a deep breath, pondering his next words. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again, Kate. Ican’tsee it.” His face goes serious as he turns away from me. I see his Adam's apple bob with a heavy swallow as his hand finds my knee, giving me a double squeeze.
“Thank you.” I smile down at the hand encircling my thigh. I can’t explain the sensation that surges up my leg at his touch…in public. I stare at his large hand covering most of my leg and feel his thumb trembling slightly. The urge to intertwine our fingers together is almost overpowering. I’ve held his hand before. It’s not like it’s new territory for us. But this moment feels different. Significant.
I fight it and elbow his arm. “Later.”
The night continues with different speakers, camp goals, changes to the schedule, and the final scrimmage at the end of the week. Since football athletes make up over fifty percent of the camp’s attendance, they go all out with a players vs coaches scrimmage as the final hoorah of the week.
Last year, a coach broke their arm, and two players were out for the season. You would think it would be frowned upon for coaches and students to go against each other. It’s one of the most intense and stressful parts of camp. I stopped questioning it three years ago. It’s a tradition. And you don’t mess with tradition.
“We will see you all bright and early.” Dawson wraps up the evening and gives the room a wave. “Rest up.”
You would think, after a long day of travel and conference talk, the kids would be exhausted and ready for bed.You would think.We make our way up to our rooms, and they are anything but, giggling and whispering about their late-night plans to go to the beach. As the adult, I could remind them they’re supposed to be ready for their first workout at 6 a.m. Icould.Instead, I wander into our hotel room, assuming Malcolm will most likely handle it anyway.
Collapsing onto the bed, I roll myself up into the expensive, luxurious comforter and form a cloud cocoon around my body, melting into the coziness.
Physical and emotional exhaustion hit me at once, weighing down my eyelids. I could fall asleep right here, right now.
The muffled sounds of the door opening and closing remind me that I, indeed, cannot fall asleep right now. I probably won’t fall asleep at all tonight, actually.
After a few moments, I peek out of my blanket cocoon and see Malcolm’s uncovered back in front of the bed.
I hold my breath and watch as the muscles in his shoulders flex and twist as he bends forward, sending a rippling effectdown the curve of his back. Heat ignites deep in my belly at the sight. He glances over his shoulder, and I know I’m caught.
“Are youwatchingme, Ms. Stanley?” His laugh is rough and gravelly, adding to the flame burning inside me. The expanse of his shoulders stretch and widen as he pulls a shirt over his head. My gut hollows out as the heated episode that was building there starts to fizzle.
