“No. She lives in Florida.” She flared her eyes. “She wasn’t exactly thrilled about the move.”
“Right. I’m guessing she and Rodney don’t get along?”
A chuckle left her mouth. “She hates him.”
“Hate is a strong word.” I rested my palm on the counter and her eyes drifted to my forearm.
She cleared her throat and shifted. “Well, she’s never been quiet about it. I think she wanted to make sure I hated him too.”Her brows furrowed. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about him now.”
The honesty in her voice had me wanting to skirt this counter, but reality was still rooting me in place.
“I know there must be some bridges burned with you and Rodney, but from what I know, from my experience…” I paused for effect. “Rodney is a good man. He cares about his players. His family. Hell, he even cares about Shaw and that’s saying something.”
She canted her head back on a laugh, the sound going straight to my dick.
Yep, it was time to leave.
“Anyway.” I knocked my knuckles against the counter again. “I’ll let you get some rest. You have class tomorrow.”
Turning on my heels, I heard her snicker.
“How do you know I have class on Mondays?”
Did I already know her schedule? Yes, I did. It was pure observation.Another neighborly obligation on my part.
“Good night, Trinity,” I called.
“Preston?”
I already had the door halfway open and paused to peer back at her.
She held up the two bags of sugar. “Forgetting something?”
Apparently, the employee handbook.
“Right.”
Turning back on my heels, she met me at the threshold and dropped the bags in my hands.
“I just needed a cup,” I muttered.
“You should know by now, Coach…” Her smirk was like a punch to the chest. Quick and breathtaking. “I had a coupon.”
20
Trinity
It was Thursday, which meant practice was light, and rehab was taking place this afternoon. We have our first away game on Saturday, and the team will travel to Georgia tomorrow.
Julia motioned her hand in my direction. “Krew needs his shoulder checked.”
I nodded, squirting some sanitizer on my palms as he walked over to the bench.
“Hey, Krew.” I glanced at my clipboard. “Shoulder bothering you?”
I figured it had. Whether Krew wanted to admit it or not, I could tell by his throw that something was off.
“Just a little tight.” He lowered to the bench, still remaining eye level with me since he was six foot four.
