The question was obviously rhetorical, but Preston answered anyway.
“Because she was desperate. He didn’t choose her, and she needed you to.”
“Wow. Smart and can cook.” I chuckled to lighten the mood because we were gettingdeepfor a random Thursday night.
“I wouldn’t say smart.” He eyed me, the insinuation clear.
If he were smart, he wouldn’t be this close to me. Which told me that we needed to wrap up this little therapy session. So even though I didn’t want to, I untangled from my position and gave us both the reminder we needed.
“You’re the coach.” My eyes remained on the taupe wall in front of me.
“I know.”
“You said this can’t…” I started, but he spoke again.
“I know.”
We sat in silence. The weight of the circumstances like a dark cloud.
“You should go. We have a long day tomorrow.” I adjusted my sweatshirt, pushing to my feet.
He didn’t budge for a brief moment, but then he stood to his full height.
“You sure you’re all right?” he asked.
“Nothing a good night’s sleep and a little lemonade can’t fix.” I gave a strained smile.
The betrayal hurt. But I’d get over. I always did.
His hand lifted, like he wanted to touch me, but then he remembered he couldn’t.
He lowered it to his side. “I’ll see you at the field house.”
I nodded. “Night.”
I watched him walk to the door, shutting it quietly behind him before I dropped my head in my hands.
Who is Preston Rusk and why can’t I get a freaking grip?
23
Preston
“You’ve got ten minutes!” Rodney shouted to the locker room before he faced me. “Be back in five. Need to hit the restroom.”
I gave him a dip of my chin as I unplugged the tablet from its charger, making sure it was ready.
The energy in the room was already high. The guys were pumped, even from the long travel day yesterday. We got our first game jitters out last week, and now that they’d had a taste of victory, it was the only thing they were chasing.
I tucked the tablet beneath my arm, adjusting my hat as Julia and Trinity walked by. Trinity had a bag of supplies hung over her shoulder, her hair tied up in the same bun as the day in the store. Her glasses sat on her nose, and it still triggered my body to react at how effortlessly beautiful she was. Even after her hard night. I tossed and turned myself, battling between what the actual fuck I was doing with her and calling up her mother myself. I hated to see those tears. It gutted me.
As they left the locker room, I heard a low whistle. “Damn, Coach’s daughter is a dime.”
This came from Pike, the kicker from Florida, and I clenched my jaw.
“Keep dreaming, Pike.” Jagger’s cocky tone sailed through the room. “Coach’s daughter already has a seat.”
I should have walked out right then.
