Loving Him Off the Field(90)

“We want you to do it.” Cassie reached over and grasped Aileen’s hands in hers.

“I’m fired/quit,” she said, deciding that combo worked best to describe her current unemployed status. “Why don’t you use the guy who did your interview with your dad when you guys first—”

“Different situation,” Trey cut her off. “We want you.”

There was only one thing she had to know. “Why?”

“Because you’re good,” Killian said. She looked over and found him staring straight at the floor, his arms crossed defensively. “You’re honest, you’ve got integrity, and you’ll respect their boundaries. They trust you.” He looked at her then, his eyes burning with words unsaid.

Words she hoped sounded like I trust you, too. But maybe that was wishful—hopeful—thinking on her part.

She squeezed Cassie’s hand and let go. “Yeah, sure. What do you want me to do with it afterward?”

“That’s up to you. However you best see fit. Use it as leverage for a new job at a station or network, go freelance and get paid for it solo, totally up to you. We trust you’ll do what’s right with it.” Trey hugged Cassie to his side and kissed the top of her head. “We just want things out in the open so we can move on and have a life together.”

Aileen’s smile widened, and her eyes stung a little. It was sort of beautiful, watching two adults who’d found each other despite the odds, making it work and carving out their own path with their bare hands. “I’ll ask questions.”

“I figured you would,” Trey shot back.

“Some, you won’t like.”

“I figured I wouldn’t.”

“I’ll annoy you.”

“Starting now?” he asked, blinking innocently when she laughed.

Throwing her hands in the air, she conceded. “Fine, fine. Let me get my tripod and camera. It’s going to be informal, I guess. Low-tech and—thanks to my menial editing skills—not all that visually stimulating. Are you wearing that?”

Cassie looked down at their outfits. Both wore T-shirts—Trey’s a broken in-Bobcats shirt; Cassie’s, a shirt with a waving flag carrying the word “Nerd”—and jeans. Though Trey had kept his running shoes on. “We want it to be casual. Like it’s no big deal that we’re dating, so we didn’t get all glossed out to do the interview. Just a casual one-on-one with a friend.”

“Two-on-one, but gotcha. Works for me.” She moved them over to the couch and asked them to hold still for a while while she fixed up the tripod and some lamps. “Killian, are you staying?”

“Just consider me your assistant.”

She glanced toward Trey and Cassie, cuddling on the couch, and lowered her voice. “Where’s Charlie?”

“Emma got him early this morning.” He hadn’t bothered to lower his voice at all. “Before that, Irene babysat him while I was at the game, and Mrs. Reynolds while I was at practice.” When she blinked in surprise, he added, “Irene Jordan, Coach’s daughter?”

“Yeah, I . . . oh.” When she glanced back at the couch, Trey and Cassie were smiling widely at them, clearly in on the situation. “So they know about Charlie.”

“They do, and a few others. I’m not going nuts like these two and broadcasting his existence, but its time to stop being scared about it when I’m with people I trust.” He brushed a hand over her cheek, working his way around to the back of her neck to cup her head. “We’ll talk about it later. But just know . . .” He kissed her gently before stepping back. “I’m done with secrets.”

“Oh,” she breathed. It wasn’t quite the declaration of love she’d hoped for, but it was something more than she’d had five minutes ago. Something to build on. “Okay, well . . . if you’re staying, can you run down to the manager’s office and confiscate two lamps?”

As he gave her a little cheeky salute and headed out the door, she blew out a breath. Time to make some magic.

And then, time to do it all over again. With Killian.

* * *

Killian and Aileen waved good-bye to Cassie and Trey as they headed out her door, letting it close behind them. She flopped onto the couch with an exhausted huff. “That was insane.”

“That was . . . actually fun.” He sat next to her, pulling her feet into his lap. She’d kicked off the dressy flats an hour earlier, and he rubbed a thumb against her arch. She purred, the sound sending a bolt of lightning straight to his groin. “Different being on your side of the camera. No wonder you like it.”