Tackling Love - Kathleen Kelly Page 0,22

wage, nowhere near what I earn, so I’m stunned he’s willing to help.

“Thank you, coach!”

“If you can set up scholarships for underprivileged kids, I’ll kick in, too,” announces Dawson.

This starts an avalanche of players pledging to help with the school, and then the head coach agrees to help as well. I’m humbled they are all willing to do this.

I stand, hands on hips, and address the room. “Okay, guys, thank you. I’ll talk to the principal of the school and get you all to write out checks that can go into a special account. If we all chip in, they’ll get the building they need, too.”

“Pretty sure, my uncle will do it for cost,” interjects the assistant coach.

“That would be excellent. Please ask him, and I’ll talk to the school. And guys, don’t feel like you’re obligated, it’s cool if you can’t,” I say to the room.

“All right! Get back to work, you lot. You have a game to win on Sunday,” bellows the coach.

Sitting back on the rowing machine, I look at Gray.

“When do I get to meet this teacher?” asks Gray.

“You tell me when and where, and I’ll make sure she’s there.”

“She’s good for you, I think I like her already. Why don’t you bring her to dinner at Mom’s? I’m sure she’d like to meet her.”

I grin at Gray. “Yeah, I’d like that. But I need you to keep away from my girl.”

“Oh… look at you being all jealous and shit. I like this woman. I think I’m going to like her a lot!”

SKYE

The sound of a car pulling up in the driveway causes me to drop the cake I’d made onto the floor. There is chocolate icing everywhere, then there’s a knock at the front door. Great. Stepping over the mess, I head for the door. I don’t check to see who it is as I assume it’s going to be Colt. Unfortunately, it’s Derek Geyser.

“Derek, what are you doing here?”

“Why’d you pick him?” His words are slurred, and he’s leaning heavily on the door frame.

“How did you get my address? You didn’t drive yourself here, did you?”

“Answer the fucking question,” bellows Derek.

“Calm down, okay?” I say soothingly.

“First you, then my kid. He’s taken everything.”

A Jeep pulls up out front, and Colt gets out. I’ve never been more relieved to see him. Derek turns, stumbles, and falls flat on his ass into my garden.

Colt jogs up the path. “What’s going on?”

“You!” yells Derek.

“Derek here seems to think you are the source of all his problems. He drove here, like this…” I point at him while disgust fills my voice.

Colt helps him to his feet. “You drove here drunk? You could have killed someone,” reprimands Colt.

“The bigger question is what do we do with him? We can’t let him drive home, and there’s no way in hell he’s staying here with me.”

“What? You too good for me now?” asks Derek as he waves his wonky hand in my direction.

“Buddy, she was always too good for you.” Derek looks at Colt, and I can see he’s trying to focus on his face. “I’ll take him to a place downtown. It’s a rehab center some of the Warriors go to.” I raise my eyebrows at him questioningly. “We get hurt, they prescribe meds, and sometimes some of us find it hard to give them up.”

“Wow, really? I’m amazed.”

“The league takes care of its own.”

“Have you ever been there?”

“No, sugar. Can we put him on your couch while I make a call?”

I push my front door open wider and motion for Colt to come inside. “Of course.” It’s then I remember the dinner I have cooking and go straight to the kitchen. Colt follows a few moments later.

“Dinner smells good, Skye, but I think I’ll skip dessert,” teases Colt.

“Yeah, I dropped it when Derek pulled up out front. I thought it was you.” I step over the mess and turn the stove off. “Make your call, I’ll clean this up, and we can eat when we get back.”

Colt grins. “I’ll buy you dessert, or maybe you’ll be dessert?”

“Make your call,” I repeat with a smirk.

Colt winks, pulls his phone out, and moves back into the living room. I clean up the mess without too many problems and find him sitting next to Derek, talking to him softly.

“You need to do this for your family. But most of all, Derek, you need to do this for yourself,” advises Colt.

Derek nods drunkenly, swings his head in my direction, and smiles widely. “Damn,