The Wall of Winnipeg and Me - Mariana Zapata Page 0,119
that connected the front area with the rest of the training facility swung open. The man I was looking for came out with his bag over his shoulder, imposing, massive, and sweaty. Definitely surly too, which really only meant he looked the way he always did.
I couldn’t help but crack a little smile at his grumpiness. “Ready?”
He did his form of a nod, a tip of his chin.
I could feel the receptionist’s eyes on us as he approached, but I was too busy taking in Grumpy Pants to bother looking at anyone else. Those brown eyes shifted to me for a second, and that time, I smirked uncontrollably.
He glared down at me. “What are you smiling at?”
I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head, trying to give him an innocent look. “Oh, nothing, sunshine.”
He mouthed ‘sunshine’ as his gaze strayed to the ceiling.
We ran out of the building side by side toward my car. Throwing the doors open, I pretty much jumped inside and shivered, turning the car and the heater on. Aiden slid in a lot more gracefully than I had, wet but not nearly as soaked.
He eyed me as he buckled in, and I slanted him a look. “What?”
With a shake of his head, he unzipped his duffel, which was sitting on his lap, and pulled out that infamous off-black hoodie he always wore. Then he held it out.
All I could do was stare at it for a second. His beloved, no-name brand, extra-extra-large hoodie. He was offering it to me.
When I first started working for Aiden, I remembered him specifically giving me instructions on how he wanted it washed and dried. On gentle and hung to dry. He loved that thing. He could own a thousand just like it, but he didn’t. He had one black hoodie that he wore all the time and a blue one he occasionally donned.
“For me?” I asked like an idiot.
He shook it, rolling his eyes. “Yes for you. Put it on before you get sick. I would rather not have to take care of you if you get pneumonia.”
Yeah, I was going to ignore his put-out tone and focus on the ‘rather not’ as I took it from him and slipped it on without another word. His hoodie was like holding a gold medal in my hands. Like being given something cherished, a family relic. Aiden’s precious.
I couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of my eye from time to time as I drove. The radio wasn’t on and it was one thing for us to eat at the counter together quietly but a totally different thing for us to be in the car not saying a word. “Did they tell you what was wrong with your car?” I made myself ask.
“The driver thought it was something with the computer.”
That made sense. I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as more lightning filled the horizon. “Has your training been going okay?”
“Fine.”
“Please tell me more,” I snickered. “At least you’ve won all your games so far.”
“Barely,” he said in a thin tone that seemed sandwiched between frustration and anger.
I’d seen a short segment just yesterday about this superstar the Three Hundreds had played against a few days ago, and I’d been amazed. “That guy from Green Bay was huge.”
I could feel the insulted expression he was shooting my way even though I was facing forward. “He isn’t that big,” he corrected me with a huff.
He was though. I’d seen pictures of the guy the Three Hundreds were playing against, and I’d seen him on television. The guy was six foot five and just shy of three hundred pounds; he was definitely stockier than Aiden and I could tell those extra pounds weren’t pure muscle, but big was big. I kept my mouth shut though and didn’t insist he was wrong. I could pretend his opponent hadn’t been the size of Delaware. Sure.
“Well, your team won.”
Aiden shifted around in his seat. “I could have played better.”
What could I say to that? I’d sat through enough interviews with people fawning all over him to know that Aiden soaked up every single one of his imperfections and every mistake he’d ever committed. It was stupid and wonderful how much he expected of himself. Nothing was ever good enough. He had so much to improve on, according to him.
“Oh, Aiden.”
“What?”
“You’re the best in the country—and I’m not just saying that to be nice—and it means nothing to you.”