Kickin' It (Red Card) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,75
police report so they can look into it. I doubt you were the first, or the last, Parker. Men like that, they don’t just stop because someone punches them in the face on national TV, alright? I think this will not only help you move on, but help you save others. This is why you’re going to be a leader, because you’re going to do the hard thing. I need you to do the hard thing.”
I took a shaky breath as respect for this man bombarded me from all sides. He was right. And suddenly Matt’s words about men being men and not being like Erik hit me full force. They were both right. “Okay. I’ll call the police. I’ll file a report.”
“Good girl.” He winked. “I’ll send the practice schedule over to your agent.”
“You got my email.” Matt held out his hand.
“Oh, actually”—Willow stood and grinned—“that would be my email. Because of the romantic relationship between these two we didn’t feel it would be professional for Matt to continue representing Parker. She’s officially my first client, but I look forward to many future dealings, Darius, and might I add, that is a fantastic jacket!”
“Oh . . .” He beamed. “Yes, well, the wife has good taste.”
“In more ways than one.” She winked.
I would have gagged at her flirting had I not been so shocked. I gawked at Matt, who looked just as stunned.
“Oh, and Darius”—Willow put her hand on his arm—“let me escort you out. I expect that the travel schedule will be accompanied by her signing bonus and details of her new contract?”
“Trained her well, Kingston.” Darius barked out a laugh as they walked over to the door like I didn’t just confess all of my dirty laundry to my future coach.
I’d had no other choice.
And instead of breaking down and sobbing against the nearest solid object—that being Matt—I smiled.
Once the door shut, it was Willow who was in tears. Willow who ran at me full speed, pulled me into her arms, and then shook me. “I would have killed him for you. I still can.”
Mascara stained her cheeks. She tried to wipe it away, only to make it worse.
“Willow?” Matt cleared his throat. “What’s this ‘you’re her agent’ business?”
A grin stretched across her face. “You were in the shower. You gave me the go-ahead through the door. But I was ready to veto your vote because you were both naked, and I figured the only way for you guys to be together without speculation was for me to take her on, duh. It’s like two and two. Peanut butter and jelly. Cake and milk—”
“We get it.” Matt held up his hand. “But you realize that’s not the only issue, right? She’s a lot younger than me, and—”
I sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly hurt he would bring up another hurdle after all the healing and closure I’d just experienced. “Don’t give me that look.”
His tone was gentle. “Willow, give us a minute.”
Willow nodded, still wiping at her face. Matt pulled me into his arms for a hug.
I clung to him and refused to let go.
“I’m so damn proud of you,” he whispered against my hair. “So proud.”
“Why do I feel like you’re going to follow that up with a ‘but’?”
“Parker . . .” He didn’t pull away, just kept saying words against my neck, inhaling my hair like it made him both happy and sad. “I want this for you so bad. Seeing you sitting there, getting your dream handed to you—there’s nothing like it. You still have so many good years of soccer ahead of you, of travel, of being a part of one of the best clubs in the world. I don’t want us to be a hindrance. I don’t want you to regret your soccer career in any way, and I don’t want you to resent me either. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I know you’re young and it’s okay if you wake up tomorrow morning and decide that living on your own, controlling your own destiny after having your past control so much of your present, is what you need right now—it’s okay. I won’t like it, but I’ll be okay.”
I smiled against his chest. “Are you basically giving me a free pass right now? Like ‘Oh, it’s okay that you’re going to break my heart and I’m going to break yours but it’s cool because you’re young and we have a few good years of sex’?”
“No,” he grumbled.