But it’s a huge fucking deal to me. It’s fucking embarrassing. This poor man has to tell me that I’m not allowed in.
Just then, blond hair fills the doorway. Fucking Barbie.
“William, is there a problem here?” she asks, holding a glass of white wine in her left hand that still has on that fucking ring.
“Um, no, Ms. Monica. I’ve got it under control.” He tries to shield me so she doesn’t see me.
“Actually, there really isn’t a problem at all. You see, my badge isn’t working, but I’m assuming there was an error in the system, but now the picture is finally clear.” I look over at William and smile. “William, it was a pleasure meeting you. I hope to see you again soon.”
“Don’t bet on that. You see, I control who comes and who goes and I’m not letting Cooper’s country slut in here.”
William is just about to say something in my defense, I think, but I don’t let him, grabbing his arm. “That’s okay, William. Really, it’s fine. However, I would suggest you turn off the heat in the lodge. We wouldn’t want some of the plastic to melt off.”
And with that, I turn and make my way into the crowd. I’m fucking livid. I can’t believe this shit is happening. I can’t go and sit in my seat. He’ll know something is up.
I pick up my phone and send him a text.
Hey, just got a call from Matthew. Allison is sick, so I’m going to head back. I’m so sorry I can’t stay and kiss you goodbye. Call me later. I love you.
With that, I make my way back to the garage. Once in the safety of my car and out of the traffic, I finally let the tears fall. I do what I need to do in that moment. I call Meghan and tell her everything that happened. I tell her how embarrassing it was, how I felt like I got kicked in the stomach, how I had to keep my smile on all the while I was fuming inside.
But most of all I tell her that I didn’t get to kiss my man goodbye because of his ex fucking girlfriend. After arranging how we will kill and bury her body, I start to feel better.
Pulling up to the house I now share with Cooper, I smile. She can have her fucking lodge because I have his fucking castle. Booyah, bitch.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cooper
I roll over in the bed. My body hurts. I’m fucking exhausted. It’s been ten days we’ve been on the road. Four planes, three straight losses. Each game more physical than the last.
My head isn’t in the fucking game. I’m starting to get fucking sloppy. Taking shit penalties because of my frustration. Taking checks that I should be able to shake off, but like I said, my head isn’t here.
I can’t even turn to Parker because she is the first to ream my ass when I call her. Of course she stays up to watch the game, and if that wasn’t enough she sends me texts through the plays, so when I check my phone there are many texts telling me to shake it off and play the fucking game. She’s right, she is a hundred percent right.
I just can’t do it. This is fucking hard. Being away from them for so long is getting to me. I’m fucking grouchy. I mean, we Facetime every single night. Which slowly leads to Parker coming with a plastic dick in her. I swear when I get home I’m throwing that motherfucker out.
I’ve even texted Matthew to ask how everything is, making sure that everything is really okay. I mean, from the time that Allison was sick and Parker had to rush home I’m waiting for someone else to fall sick. So far the coast in clear, but I don’t think for long. Last night Parker rushed me off the phone and said she was heading to bed early saying she wasn’t feeling all that well.
I take my phone off the nightstand. It’s the first thing I do when I get up. I check up on my girl. Sure enough, there is a message.
Headed back home, not feeling well. Will call you later.
Fuck. I knew it was coming. The three-hour time change doesn’t help either. When I finally roll out of bed, I throw myself straight into the shower, hoping the hot water helps my muscles.
Getting dressed, I head down to the restaurant. I usually hit up with some teammates, but I just want to be by myself. Once I sit down and look at the menu, the chair across from me is being slid out. Looking up, I see Monica. Can I catch a fucking break? She’s apparently been promoted to team assistant. I have no idea what the fuck that means, but she’s always fucking there. She is now traveling with the team.
I’ve been polite to her. But I’m reaching my limit. I have been in contact with my agent, which has been in touch with Charles to tell him she better walk a very straight line with me and my family or I’ll walk out of this contract.
“Morning,” she says cheerfully. Her hair is already coiffed and curled. Her face is in full makeup. I look at my watch, wondering if it’s somehow later than I thought it was. Nope, just nine-thirty. Maybe it’s because I’m with Parker, who doesn’t need to paint her face like a clown.