Page 11 of Offsides

“Yup,” Cowboy said. His devilish grin was still in place, and Theo had to stop herself from swooning. That smile was what had done her in the first time she’d seen him play. It was what had earned him a spot next to Channing Tatum on her dorm room wall. “Her mentor is the owner here, and Felicity helped her with getting this place up and running. She and Saxony, one of the bartenders, thought ‘not stunned by my buns’ would be funny, just like ‘hell no H2O’ in Coyote Ugly.”

“Interesting,” Theo said. It was hard to imagine the ever-professional Felicity coming up with such an idea, but then again, Theo knew very little of the woman’s personal life, other than she was dating the team’s coach. Even then, the two of them remained steadfastly professional, never even hinting to their relationship when it came to Rising business. “Now, Mr. Callahan.”

“Cowboy, please. Mr. Callahan is my dad.”

“Not Britt?”

“Not unless you are my mother.”

“Fine,” Theo huffed. “You’ve been very open about the creation of the team and how you worked with Gunnar Gracin, as well as the Rising ownership—first, Dalton Sutherland Jr., followed by Dalton Sutherland III, and now Felicity—on putting together the team. You said from the start that you wanted the strategy behind the team to be young, fresh players who you can develop, pairing that with some more experienced talent. And you’ve put together an impressive roster. Dash Lazaro, Liam Daley, D.B. Elliot, Chance Walker, Mahoney Holmes—these are young guys who really show potential.”

“They are. That’s why they are here in Atlanta.”

“Adding in league veterans like Vance Henderson and Parker Michaels, plus bringing Hans and Fritz Bender from Germany. It’s like the team is stacked in all the right places. People are already calling the Atlanta Rising the most successful expansion team ever. How does that make you feel?”

“Like we did something right,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. His tone was light, like he was talking to an old friend rather than the media. Theo’s stomach danced a jig, enjoying the easiness. All their encounters since they’d officially met a few weeks back had been tense. She’d been sure that this meal would be the same way. So far, it was anything but.

“I think it’s probably still early to make the statement that we’re the most successful ever. But we’re leaving our mark, that’s for sure,” he continued. “And that’s the way we want it. We’ve worked hard from day one to create a fun, unique experience for our fans. It’s not just about the product on the pitch, it’s about everything.”

“But the product on the pitch is what you care about most.”

“Well, that part is my job.”

“So when a player like Tiago goes down…” Theo started. Cowboy winced, his eyes slamming shut, as if he were feeling the pain in his own knee. Her heart squeezed at his reaction. She’d interviewed a lot of coaches and front office staff over the years, but she’d never seen anyone who seemed to care so much about his players. It was…endearing.

“It cuts you like a knife,” he answered, not even needing her to finish the question. “Injury is the risk we all take playing the game. Every athlete knows the second they step out onto the field, or the mat, or into the pool, whatever, that there is always that chance. It’s not the outcome you want. But, when it happens, you step back and reassess. Figure out how to move forward.”

There it was. The perfect opening.

Theo had played out a hundred and one scenarios in her head throughout the day, starting in the shower that morning. Trying to figure out just the right series of softball questions to get Cowboy talking so he would open the door so she could ask the questions she really wanted to know the answers to. The ones she knew that if she started with them, would make him lock up tighter than Fort Knox.

“And just how are you moving forward without Tiago?”

“I believe you already know the answer to that.”

“Yes,” she mused. “Beau Blackwood. And just when will he be arriving?”

“What is with your obsession with Beau’s arrival?” Cowboy asked, his voice tense. He grabbed his beer, taking a few long gulps of the amber liquid. Theo watched the muscles in his throat move, and it sent a zing through her.

Throat muscles…really? That's what’s doing it for you? Girl…Knock. It. Off.

“I am not obsessed. You just won’t give me an answer. You can’t tell me you don’t know, because I know you do. I don’t believe for one second that Hamburg hasn’t given you a date, so don’t try and pull that. Plus, you and Beau played together for the Men’s National Team, so I know you’re buddies. You must be talking to him directly.”

“Next question.”

“When Beau arrives, will Petra be with him?”

The smile fell from Cowboy’s face faster than Theo could snap her fingers. All amusement had drained from his face, quickly replaced by something that resembled shock. Like she had just kicked his puppy and he was at a loss for how to respond. She stood by her question though. It was no secret that the Blackwood marriage was rife with drama. Petra Blackwood had “starred” in one B movie years ago and ever since had been a gossip magazine staple. The woman was a living, breathing nightmare—a notorious, high-maintenance drama queen. When she’d married Beau however, people thought the quiet, steady footballer might have a calming effect on her. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the other way around.

“One, that is none of your business,” Cowboy answered, his voice gruff. Theo could tell he was tamping down his anger. He leaned forward, his deep brown eyes staring directly at her. She shivered, telling herself it was from the blasting AC inside the restaurant and not the intensity of the beautiful man across from her. “Two, I will never, ever, comment on a player’s personal life. Understand me?”

“Then what will you comment on?” she shot back. “I get it, you don’t like the media. But we’re just trying to do our jobs.”

“No, you don’t get it. If you ‘got it,’ you wouldn’t be here, badgering me like this for an answer I’ve already given you. And just doing your job? Your job ruins people’s lives.”

Theo blinked, taken aback by Cowboy’s statement. It was no secret that he disliked reporters—all reporters. It didn’t matter the medium—print, radio, TV—all seemed to annoy the normally happy-go-lucky former player. But this was the first time she had ever seen him get truly angry about it.

Now that she thought about it, this was the first time she’d seen him angry about anything. Having followed his career, both at Liverpool and when he was back playing in America, she’d seen a lot of sides to him. But anger was not one of them. No matter what happened on the field, no matter how devastating the loss, Cowboy had always seemed to simply shake it off. Free and easy—that was what he had always been quoted as saying. Theo would have bet money that there wasn’t anything in the world that could rile him up. Except apparently this.