“Neither can I,” she whispered, and watched something in his face smooth out. Nerves? Frustration? She wasn’t sure yet, but when she brushed a lock of hair from his eyes, they softened for her. The hard, rigid exterior he presented to the world had eased into a velvet coating under a surprisingly squishy center. She just had to know what the center was made out of.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, kissing him one more time before closing the door herself.
* * *
Josiah Walker bumped Killian’s shoulder in the locker room after practice. “Grab some food?”
Killian opened his mouth to give the immediate reply of, “Thanks, but I can’t.” He was going to call Emma and Charlie early to redeem himself after yesterday’s fucked-up call. “I’ve got some things to do before . . .” Before he ended up in bed with Freckles.
Josiah shrugged, having made the offer, and headed back to his locker to pack his bag. But when Killian slung his gym bag over his shoulder, Trey walked up.
“Just grab a quick bite with us.” When Killian opened his mouth to argue, Trey shot him a look that would have a three-hundred-pound linebacker second-guessing a sack. “Whatever your argument is, consider it invalid.”
He tried to think of a way to say I have to call my son, without actually saying he had a son. Yeah, there was none. So he took the path of least resistance and nodded. “I’ll follow you.”
As they walked out together—Trey, Josiah, Michael Lambert and Killian—he caught sight of Aileen waiting against a wall. When she saw him, her face lit up. His own body tightened in response to being close to her. The urge to reach out and grab her, pull her against his side and keep her closer—not to mention, shelter her from the other guys on the team—was as foreign as it was unwelcome. He had no time for this crap.
She started toward him, but he shook his head, tilted it slightly toward the group he walked with, and kept on. Maybe it made him an asshole that he didn’t stop to tell him what he was doing . . . but she wasn’t his mother, or his girlfriend. And he wasn’t about to give the guys ammo to mock him. She halted in mid-stride, her head tilted to one side in a curious, observant sort of way. Then she smiled, nodded and gave him a quiet little wave.
Twenty minutes later, he’d made his phone call to Charlie—a call in which Emma had been exceedingly polite, with none of the warmth they’d developed between them in the last few years—and pulled up to a sports bar. He followed the group in and sat in a corner, partially shielded from the crowd. Trey and Josiah sat with their backs to the rest of the restaurant. As they were the two most recognizable faces from the team, Killian couldn’t fault them for it.
They ordered food—sticking with water, though they all joked about wanting something stronger. The waitress must have been around for a while, as she didn’t blink an eye at having four Bobcats sitting in her section. When the menus were gone and they had a few minutes to themselves before their food arrived, Michael asked, “So how’s Cassie?”
Trey raised a brow at him. “She’s fine.”
There was an awkward pause, then Michael kicked at Trey under the table. “That’s all? Come on, man. We need more than that. What’s dating the coach’s daughter like? Does he give you weird, fatherly talks when you pick her up? Is it awkward when he’s yelling at your ass on the sidelines?”
“It’s . . .” Trey sighed, then looked around. They were on an island to themselves in the corner where their table sat. “It’s weird, and not. We don’t spend time over at their house. She’s got sisters, and they’re young enough it would be wrong to be hanging out too much over there. Plus, Cassie lives in the pool house out back, so it’s not like she shares a wall with Coach or anything.”
“Small favors,” Josiah said under his breath with a grin. Trey elbowed him hard.
“So she’s mostly over at my place. We’re just keeping it quiet as much as we can. No nights out, no public outings or events together. We want to get through this season and then we’ll evaluate how to handle it from here. But as far as how Coach treats me on the sidelines . . .” Trey smiled and tugged at his earlobe. “Trust me, when he wants to ride me, he knows how to do it. I think my eardrum is still ringing from practice today.”
“Because you were throwing like you had rocks in your wrists,” Josiah added helpfully, dodging another elbow. “Man, watch out. That’s my cradling arm.”
Killian watched the by-play quietly. But he had to know. “Doesn’t the media attention suck?”