Page 60 of Hard to Hold

“Surely you know that,” I say through a laugh.

“It’s not something I hear from people who matter to me.” Our eyes meet, hold, and I open my mouth and then close it, uncertain how to respond. He truly isn’t used to hearing it. “And Finn?” he asks, changing the topic before I can ask the questions I’m sure are fleeting through my eyes.

“What about Finn?”

“Does he know about Cannon’s master plan to force me to stay here and never go back home?” He smiles this time, although I can tell he’s still processing.

“I have no idea what he knows or doesn’t know. He tried to prevent Cannon from hiring me, so I can assume he has an inkling why I was brought on board.”

“Do you know Finn well?”

I huff out a laugh. “We have a history of sorts—no, not the kind you’re thinking of,” I say when he looks startled, and I realize my poor choice of words. “He definitely has his opinions about me, so what I think of him doesn’t really factor into this conversation.”

“I can respect that.”

“I should get out there. Cannon’s probably wondering where I am,” I say but Rush doesn’t move out of the way.

“Is Cannon right in his thinking?”

“About?”

“If you were my agent, would you talk me into leaving the Premier League and staying here?”

“I’m not your agent though,” I say, trying hard to keep my opinions to myself.

“Humor me.”

“Rush,” I groan and look at my phone to check the time. Cannon is definitely going to be looking for me.

“What would you advise?”

I straighten my shoulders and look at Rush, the athlete, instead of Rush, the man I want to experience again, and I speak the truth. “I’d tell you you’re crazy to even let the idea of staying here pass over your lips. You’re at the top of your game, the pinnacle of your career, and you’d be selling yourself, the sport, and your fans short. I’d also tell you that you should have never come here in the first place.”

“Really? Why’s that?” he asks as if he’s surprised by the comment.

“Because coming here looks like you’re running. By not staying there and facing the press and your teammates, it gives the appearance that you’re guilty of fucking Seth’s wife behind his back.” Rush cringes at the harshness of my words and his reaction surprises me. “You haven’t said a word otherwise, so everyone is making assumptions. Assumptions that I think are total bullshit. You know I don’t think you did it, but for the freaking life of me I can’t figure out why you don’t say otherwise.”

He stares at me, and for the briefest of moments, I think he’s going to break his silence on the subject. There is a look in his eyes that tells me there’s so much more that I don’t know but true to fashion, he just gives the subtlest of nods.

“Finn says I have to be quiet because of the gagging order the management put into place after a fight broke out in the changing room.”

“That’s why you’ve been silent?” I emit a huff of disbelief. “I don’t buy it. Since when have you ever managed your career by the assumptions of others? That’s what bugs me about this whole situation, Rush. That’s what eats at me. Why were you told to come here? To save face on negotiations that don’t sound like they’re being made, or to do a favor, and for what purpose?”

“You’re the first person who’s said anything like that to me.”

Oh, this man is killing me. How can someone so gruff and strong and opinionated be gentled by simple words of truth? And how can he look at me with such deep affection as if he’s craved that? Needed that?

“The real question is, what is it that you want? Just you. Until you answer that question, everything is going to feel way off.”

And this time, when I go to walk past Rush to go meet up with Cannon, he lets me without saying a word.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

RUSH

THE REAL QUESTION IS RUSH, what is it that you want?

I stare at Finn sitting across from me. He’s leaning back in his seat, a cigar is burning in his ashtray, and a pint is sitting half-drunk beside him. He’s partially buzzed, but that’s not stopping him from dishing out advice that I’m only half listening to because ever since last night, Lennox’s words are on repeat in my head.