What the hell that has to do with the game we just played, I don’t know, but I guess Rhett warned me. I’ve always been circumspect with how much I reveal about my family, and I’m not about to cave under pressure from one reporter.
“They’re settling in just fine. Proud to wear Tridents colours.”
Maxine nods, and it’s as if I can see the wheels turning in her head as she tries to pivot. Jesus, is she a sports reporter or a tabloid reporter?
“It must be tough to have such a demanding career, as well as being a single dad. How do you balance it all and still find time for yourself? For love, perhaps? The women of Vancouver are very excited to have a hot new bachelor in town, I’m sure.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.My jaw grinds together as I try to remember every bit of media training Gage has forced down my throat ever since Peyton was born. It’s not the first time my dating life has come up in an interview, but not normally on the field when most self-respecting reporters want to talk about the game.
“It’s not easy for any parent to juggle a career and their family, but I’ve got a good support system.”
Maxine opens her mouth, probably ready to spew more garbage questions, but I’m saved by an angel.
“Maxine, our players need to get ready for the postgame debrief. I trust you got the sound bites you wanted?” Willow’s voice is brittle as she comes to stand beside me, arms folded across her chest, her eyes full of annoyed fire, all directed at the reporter.
“Yes, thanks, Willow. We’re done here,” Maxine simpers, shooting daggers right back at Willow, making it clear there’s no love lost between the two. She and her cameraman turn and walk away to the gate that lets them out of the field.
“Sorry. I should have warned you about her.”
I turn to face Willow, but she’s not looking at me. Her body position screamsback off, with her arms still folded across her chest. “It’s okay, Darling let me know she tries to dig up personal stuff. I was ready.”
Finally, she looks up at me, but her expression is still guarded. “I guess it’s not the first time you’ve been asked about your personal life.”
I shrug. “Nope, but it’s not as bad as when the news first broke about Peyton. I keep her out of it as much as possible. Control when and where she ends up in the public eye.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to follow up with Maxine’s boss about off-limits questions. She’s a pain in our asses, always trying to be more salacious than sports. Thankfully, City News doesn’t send her out often. Their other sports guy is far more professional. I think Maxine thinks she’s in lifestyle, not sports.”
I chuckle because that’s exactly what I was thinking. “Does she even like baseball?”
Willow is fighting back a smile, and I fucking love it. Theback offvibes are lessening, and she even drops her arms. Granted, only to hold her phone in front of her, but it’s a step in the right direction. She might not want to admit there’s something between us, but there is. And subconsciously, she can’t deny it forever.
“I wanted to thank you again for Saturday,” I say, keeping my voice low so no one else around us hears. “Peyton had a lot of fun with you. And I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”
Her eyes flutter closed for a second, and when they open again, she’s looking at me with a vulnerable expression. “You didn’t. I’m sorry I took off so fast. I had fun, too. But…” she trails off.
I give her a quick nod. “I know. But I want you to know this conversation isn’t over. This isn’t the right time or place, but I do want to finish what we were talking about the other day.” My heart is pounding. Am I pushing too hard again?
Fuck, I don’t care. I need her to know I’m not giving up so easily.
“Soon, Cherry. Soon, we’re gonna talk. And I swear to you, I’ll listen. But only if you do, too. Because this —” I subtly gesture between the two of us “— isn’t something you just ignore.”
Her eyes flare wide with something I really want to believe is desire, or at the very least, agreement. Just then someone calls her name, and the moment is broken.
“I…I have to go,” she says quietly but firmly. “We’ll talk later.”
She walks away, but with those three words, I feel something surge to life inside of me.
Hope.
A couple of hours after the game and that goddamn interview, Peyton’s in bed, fast asleep, and I’m on the couch with a beer. The TV is on in the background, sports highlights playing, but I’m not paying attention to it. Instead, I can’t stop thinking about Willow.
I’ve never been so mixed up about a woman. What we had that night in Hawaii was fucking fantastic. Best sex of my goddamn life. She can be so easy to be around, natural, like breathing. But then she throws up those walls so fucking high, I can’t see a way over them.
But I want to. She could be it for me, I know it, even as it feels crazy to admit to myself. What other woman would understand the pressures of my life, love the game that means so much to me, and be so amazing with my daughter?
She says we can’t do this, but I need to know why. Because for the life of me, I can’t stop thinking that we could. And we should.
Standing up, I walk out to my backyard and knock on the door of the guest house. Mom’s got lights on, so I know she’s home and awake.
