Once Upon A Half-Time: A Sports Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,91

her phone. “How much time do we have?”

“None.” Jack swore. “We have to do it today. The regular season starts on Sunday. We can’t go into the season knowing this. If we get caught, last thing we want is to be punished for two years’ worth of fuck-ups.”

Leah was already talking with her office, planning with her secretary. “I can get a meeting set up for this afternoon, but this is going to create a shit storm. An umbrella won’t cut it; we’ll need to seek shelter.”

Cole never backed down from a challenge. “We can handle it.”

Piper hopped to her feet. “You three—say nothing at practice. Not to the media. Not to the coaches. Not to the team. Your agent—” she pointed to Cole and me, “I will speak for you. Jack, I’ll prepare a joint statement with yours. Elle, I need you to go home and bring me everything you have.”

“There’s a lot,” she warned.

“The more the better,” she said. “Leah and I will handle the interviews. And I’ll call my father. Some of the agents at his firm are actual lawyers. You’re gonna need one, Elle.”

If the thought intimidated her, Elle didn’t show it. She steeled herself. More fucking brave than I might have been, and far more poised. This woman amazed me.

And I asked so much of her.

I followed Elle to the door, but she didn’t want to talk. She shook her head before I even spoke.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Now her voice weakened. “Not now. Not with all this happening.”

“Then when?”

“Maybe when our lives aren’t falling apart?”

“Red, you’re the only reason I’m standing in one piece.”

If she believed me, she didn’t say it. I reached for her cheek. She ducked away before I could touch her.

Her goodbye was a half-hearted whisper. I swore as the door closed.

One crisis starting, and another one imploding.

I fucked enough shit up. Who the hell knew if I made the right decision this time?

I slunk to the kitchen. Did I want to drink the coffee or drown in it?

Jack followed me. I owed him an apology, but I doubted it’d matter much once the team was suspended as a result of this bullshit.

I leaned against the sink. “Can I get you anything? A beer?”

“It’s six in the morning,” Jack laughed. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“Right.”

“Elle’s pissed at you.”

“She has every right to be.”

His warning was unnecessary. “Don’t fuck that up, rookie.”

“Might be too late.”

“With a girl like that you make the time.”

He was probably right. “We had a fight…about everything. The pictures. The baby. Me.”

“Did she win?”

“Absolutely.”

“Tell her that. Works for me.”

Not this time. My head ached as much as my body, and I still had ten hours of practice and drills and weight lifting ahead of me. I didn’t know how the vets handled it.

“Do you remember what it was like your rookie year?”

Jack thought the question was amusing for some reason. “Not at all. I drank most of that season away. I remember the women, the money, and the hangovers. But I think I spent most of the games scrambling and terrified.”

“You played good though.”

“Not as good as I should have been. I got lucky.”

“Lucky.” I shrugged. “I never used to need luck.”

“I live by it.”

Hell, it could help me, I’d shoe a rabbit and take a foot from a horse. “I could use a bit of luck.”

“Why?”

Like he didn’t know. “Come on. I’m not contributing shit to the team.”

“You got a reason for it?”

“Hell if I know. Half the time I don’t even feel like I am part of the team.”

I didn’t expect him to smile. “I was wondering when you’d notice it.”

“Notice what?”

He paused before he spoke, studying me. “I know your type, Lachlan.”

“Dark and curvy?”

“You’re good at your game,” he said. “Too good.”

“What a sweet-talker.”

“I’m serious. It’s time you got serious too. I don’t care what happened in training camp or during those exhibition games. You are and will always be one of the most talented players on the team. But do you know what your problem is?”

“This should be fun.”

“You still think you’re Lachlan Reed.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

He shrugged. “Sure, if you want to act like a spoiled fucking child.”

Well, this wasn’t as productive of a conversation as I’d hoped. “All right. I get your point.”

“You don’t.” Jack pointed to the bruise on his face. “This type of bullshit? That’s the temper tantrum of some cocky kid who forgets that he’s part of a team. You acted out because you’re a spoiled bastard who was