He laughs, but it’s not his real laugh, and I don’t like the toned-down version. “Mac and cheese? That’s what you’re eating?”
“Damn straight it is. I’ve had a day.”
His blue eyes meet mine, curiously inspecting me.
Crap. I didn’t mean to reveal that.
As if he knows I won’t be talking about it, he stands and fills a huge bowl with lettuce, a bunch of nuts, berries, and beans, adding the chicken last. I tuck myself into the corner of the couch and eat my boxed, cheesy goodness straight from the pan. Cole stretches out on the other end.
“So, your friend, Nick, will be going to the event with us?”
I’ve spent all day mentally preparing for everything that attending this event will entail. I’ve run through endless scenarios, knowing I need to be focused and alert. There will be a massive crowd, and Cole is a target. I have to be on my A-game. I can’t do that with my anxiety through the roof.
He sets his bowl on the table beside him. “Yeah. He plays for the New York Liberties. He’s one of the best defensive ends in the league.”
“And you met in college?”
Cole hasn’t said much about friends, and the idea of having a strange male sleeping upstairs is one more thing gnawing at my insides. Kerry’s reminder that Cole is safe brings a small amount of comfort. His tender tone and willingness to wake me if I have another dream only confirm that. He told me not to apologize, but that’s difficult when every single time, it’s all I can do not to be consumed by fear and shame so great they might swallow me whole.
“We were teammates. At first, he was a hot head. It almost got him thrown off the team, but my brother-in-law helped him use that energy for good instead of destruction.”
I nod, fully understanding the power behind that kind of self-loathing or pain.
“He’s a good guy. He’s not had it easy.” Cole reaches for his water.
“Lyla’s coming over at some point to help me find a dress.”
His head rolls in my direction, but I avoid his gaze, keeping my attention on the screen. “My sister hates dresses. Something tells me you’re not a fan either.”
Not being a fan doesn’t even touch the surface.
“I’m not getting paid enough for this.”
“It won’t be so bad. I promise.”
I know he’s smiling.
I side-eye him. “Matthews, don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Oh, I intend to keep this one.”
Something about his tone causes a swirl low in my belly I can’t identify. The tops of my nerves feel like they’re being singed, but not in the terrible way I’m used to.
Cole’s attention returns to the game, his relaxed posture not doing anything to ease my own. While I pretend to watch, my brain tries to identify those feelings. They’re foreign and confusing.
I give it all a swift kick to the side. I don’t need one more thing messing with me right now. Work. My brain and body need to be in one hundred percent hunt mode so I can find this bastard and get back to my normal, moderately comfortable existence.
Chapter 17
RYDER
“You won’t have backup or a weapon. That place will be crawling with fans. If someone is looking to hurt him, that’d be a place to do it and remain concealed.”
Tracker’s commander tone comes through the speaker.
“I know.” And I do know.
“Cole needs to be on guard. He has to pay attention. His friend can’t be a distraction.”
