“Come here,” he says, motioning with his clean hand for me to come closer to him.
I do as he asks, and he slowly lifts the pork to my lips. “Open,” he commands, and I clench my thighs together. But I do as he says.
It tastes amazing. I wish that I would have grabbed my own. I moan as I chew and swallow the tender, juicy meat.
“Good, huh?”
“It is. Why aren’t we having this at team meals? Like you really gotta push Watts to get this,” I say, grinning at him.
“I know, right. But it’ll be a stretch because he likes his Mexican food.”
“That he does. But change can be good,” I say playfully.
“It sure can,” he says as he winks at me and I swear my knees go weak on him. I hate and love how charming he is at the same time.
“August, so this is where you’ve been hiding,” a voice says from behind.
I instantly move so that I am not across from August but now standing beside him. I would recognize that voice anywhere. August stiffens a bit and moves to place his hand over mine. Either for support or to make sure that I don’t flee. I take one of my fingers and wrap it around one of his, anchoring him too. Like I’m afraid that Maxwell can make him disappear from here as well.
“Hey, Dad, I haven’t been hiding, just making my rounds with the auction tables and thought I’d grab a bite to eat,” August says awkwardly.
He nods and turns his attention to me. “I don’t believe that we’ve met before. I’m Maxwell Cromwell.” He extends his hand to me and I tentatively take it, shaking it gently.
“Hello, sir, I’m Hendrix Monroe,” I say proudly, wondering if he remembers who I am. He was in charge of the recruiting for the Blaze, but it would honestly shock me if he did.
He stares at me for a moment. Eyes narrowing on me, like he’s flipping through his memory, trying to figure out where he’s heard my name before. I see the moment the light comes on in his mind, accompanied by an irritated sigh.
“You’re a Blaze player, are you not?”
I feel August stiffen beside me. I just nod and wait for him to say anything else on the matter. I don’t have to wait long.
“Did you buy a ticket to come to this event?” he asks me, like he’s hoping that the answer isn’t that I’m here with August.
“She’s here with me, Dad,” August confirms for me.
Well, one of us had to admit it, no point in hiding it.
He shakes his head. “Are also dipping your pen in the company ink, August? Or is she taking advantage of the fact that you are a Cromwell.” There’s a hint of distain in his voice and I know that he’s thinking it’s the latter.
I get ready to open my mouth to say something, but August beats me to it. “I guess I’d say that neither of those things is happening, Dad. Hendrix isn’t attempting to get ahead or take advantage of me in any way by dating me.”
It’s my turn to stiffen beside him. I just stand there frozen, unable to speak, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“I see. August, I thought we had a conversation about fraternization with the team. I thought it was made perfectly clear to you that while you can spend time with them, that you should not begin dating anyone from the team.” He stares at me for a moment longer than I’m comfortable with, his beady eyes zeroing in on me. “You look so familiar to me. And I don’t believe it’s because I watch the games. Because I don’t.”
I want to tell him what a charmer and an asshole he is all at the same time. Although, I’m not surprised. I didn’t expect Maxwell to watch the games. I’ve heard August give him the run-down of how it went. He only had opinions when we lost, not when we won.
“You would recognize her from UNC, Dad,” August says, shocking him by telling him exactly where he should know me from. Although, what’s the point in hiding it, it was bound to come up at some point.
“That’s it,” he says, wagging a finger at August. “I knew that I recognized that name. I knew it was from somewhere otherthan the team. You can dress it up, but you can’t make it unrecognizable to me.”
I hate the words he chose. Like I’m not even a person to him. He referred to me as ‘it.’
“Ever the charmer, Dad,” August says, shaking his head. “Please show her a bit more respect than that.”
“You mean the same respect that the two of you showed me by bringing her here? Without so much as a heads-up that she was coming. Or that you two managed to find each other again.”
While the words that he said weren’t exactly mean, they weren’t nice either, and I can’t help but feel like the other shoe is about to drop.
