I sit with her for a while longer in the silence. Sometimes, that’s all we need. Someone to sit with us when there are no words. When all that’s left is to face ourselves and decide if there’s anything worth saving.
I leave with my stomach twisting into a giant knot and threatening to leap out onto the floor. I don’t want to hear what I told her. The thing about fighting and not letting them win.
I’ve been fighting and winning, but now I’m faced with a new challenge. One that involves a handsome football player and all those words I said to Kelsey, punching me in the face.
Maybe it’s all the things I needed to remind myself. Maybe Kerry’s right. Maybe it’s time not to give a single shit and fight.
Only this time, I have to be willing to fight for myself again. The thing is, like all the times before, it’s hard to fight for something filled with emptiness—when you have nothing to offer, even yourself.
Chapter 15
COLE
I sit, listening and taking notes as Coach outlines plans and strategies for our upcoming game. Ricketts is to my right, and the notebook in front of him is mostly blank. Will Jenkins is on my left, scribbling notes so fast I’m surprised his pencil isn’t smoking. I want to laugh, but I hold it in.
Jenkins is my backup, and he takes his role seriously. He knows the game’s outcome could rest on his shoulders if I get injured, but he prepares like he’s the one starting.
He was the Stingrays’s quarterback for the second half of the season before I was drafted. He played well, and it has everything to do with his dedication, even more than his talent. If I’m out, he’ll carry on just fine. If only that took some of the pressure off.
“All right, that’s all I’ve got. It was a good practice today. We need to see that in Atlanta this weekend.” Coach gathers his notebook and papers. “You are free, except for those hanging around to sign merch.”
We stand, and T-Bone stretches and groans in the back like a bear waking from a nap, which I have no doubt he was enjoying.
“You signing today?” Ricketts asks, shoving this notebook under his arm.
“Yeah. Mindy sent me an email.”
“It’ll be extra special with T-Bone flapping his jowls the whole time,” Ricketts mumbles.
Jenkins laughs. “Don’t smudge your name. Your fans will come for you.” He bumps my shoulder with his fist. “Ice your hand after. Wouldn’t want you on the injury report for writer’s cramp.”
“You heading out?” I drop my phone and pencil in my pocket.
Jenkins nods, collecting his stuff. “Yeah, Rachel has an appointment.” His tone turns serious.
His daughter was born with cerebral palsy and has been in and out of the hospital. I’ve wondered if that’s part of his dedication to the team and game. I understand the need for escape and a way to release some of the fear and heartache. He started a foundation in her name to fund research and aid families with medical supplies, devices, and care.
“Let me know how it goes. Tell Rachel I said hi.”
He nods once.
Ricketts and I head down the hall to another large room filled with Stingrays’ merchandise.
“Are you attending theSportsEliteevent next weekend?” Ricketts asks as I sit at a table lined with hats.
“Yeah. My agent wasn’t letting me out of this one.”
“He’d better not have.” Mindy, one of the PR managers, drops a stack of jerseys on the end of my table. “You’re their featured player this year. We’ll have a booth set up for you to sign autographs and take pictures.”
“Have fun with that, man.” Ricketts leaves me to find his table as Mindy moves closer, reorganizing the hats as I sign them.
I don’t miss his backward glance and smug smirk.
I pretend to ignore it, but I know what that asswipe is smiling about. Mindy. She’s nice, personable, and good at her job. She also seems to find reasons to share my space. Apparently, Ricketts has noticed.
Mindy is pretty. Her long, dark hair falls around her shoulders in waves, and I’m not sure she wears anything but asmile. She’s a little too eager, casually suggesting we hang out. I’ve always played dumb and side-stepped her invitations.
I don’t date women I work with. Really, I don’t date at all. Even if I did, Mindy is likely more infatuated with my profession than with me. Either way, I’m not interested in finding out.
