"Is she…" I couldn't finish the sentence. The nearly emotionless look in his eyes answered it for me.
"She lost her battle the year I finished university," he said. "Didn't even see me graduate." He swallowed audibly. His face and voice then filled with emotion, so palpable I could almost reach out and touch it. He didn’t let the tears fall, but they glittered in his eyes like diamonds of pain.
My heart ached for him. "She would be proud," I said softly.
"Yeah." He looked down at the sidewalk.
No wonder he was so cut up about Lori Franks. Not just because he cared, but because of the memories of his mother. It must be digging up a lot of hurt. A lot of trauma.
"It must have been difficult," I said. "If I'd known, I would have tried to be there for you."
"I wouldn't have let you," he said, his tone blunt. "I pushed everyone away. I was supposed to be this big jock; tough, invincible. I didn't want to cry in front of anyone. I would have looked wimpy."
"You would have lookedhuman," I said, equally blunt. "Everyone needs a shoulder every now and again. Even big, tough, badasses."
He sniffed, then cleared his throat. "Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I wanted you to know, so you can understand why I pushed you away. I could have been nicer about it, but…"
"I get it," I said. I finally did. I wished I knew sooner, even if there was nothing I could have done. "I'm sorry you didn't feel like you could confide in anyone."
"If I'd told anyone, it would have been you," he said. Something in his tone made my heart flip.
"It would have?" I held my breath, waiting for him to speak again.
"Yeah. I was more myself with you than I was with anyone. You let me be myself, no expectations. If I hadn't been such an egomaniacal, dick, macho man, I would have asked you out."
"Yeah, well, you had a reputation to think about." The last seven years melted away and any trace of anger I'd clung to went with it. Things could have been different, but the time apart made us who we were. The fact we found each other again felt like fate twisting us around her pinky finger. I didn't object a bit.
Of all the people who could have gotten the interview with Hawk, it was me. Of all the teams in the world Hawk could have joined, it was the one where I lived. And how could I stay madat a boy mourning his mother while she passed, likely slow and painful?
"The shit thing is," he said, "I still do."
For a moment I freaked out, my heart leaping into my throat, wondering what he was getting at. Did he want to end this…whatever this was, before it even began?
"Whatever happens, I'll try to keep you from becoming a target for the press," he said, as though he hadn't noticed my moment of panic. "You know how they can be."
I thought of Harvey and nodded. "Yes, I do know. Don't worry about me though, I can handle myself."
"Said every rookie, ever," Hawk said dryly. "The reality is a bitch."
"I guess it is," I agreed. "I'm surprised I didn't read about your family." Especially his mother. That would be a big story, since university football was almost as well-loved as the NFL. One I wouldn't touch with a hundred and twenty yard pole.
"Like I said, we kept it quiet," he said. "I keep expecting someone to dig it up, but so far no one has."
"Or they have the same opinion I do, " I suggested. "That family is off limits. They never signed up for fame."
"Exactly," he agreed. "Stranger things, I guess."
"Yeah." I nodded straight ahead. "That's my building up there."
"So it is," he agreed.
I thought furiously for a moment. Did I want to suggest this? Maybe it was too soon. What if he said no? The season was coming fast and he probably had training first thing in the morning, or meetings, or…
"Do you want to come up?" I blurted out.
"Only on one condition," he replied.
"What's that?" I turned my face to look at him. I had no idea what he might say. His face was a closed book.
