39. Kieran
39
KIERAN
T he office door crashes back against the wall, causing the person sitting behind the desk to bolt to her feet.
The second she sees me standing in the doorway, she relaxes, although only marginally.
“Kieran, I?—”
I’ve ignored her numerous calls since the news broke yesterday morning.
I didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone; I wanted to look our publicist in the eyes when she explained why she’d thrown Effie under the bus.Exactly what I demanded she didn’t do.
“Why the fuck did you do that?” I demand, my voice hard and unwavering.
“I didn’t,” she argues, pushing her chair back and walking around her desk as if that’ll help pacify me.
Anger burns through me, radiating off me in waves. As she gets closer, she must read it, because her confident strides falter.
Clenching and unclenching my fists, I try to stop them from trembling quite so violently.
“If you didn’t do it, then who did?”
Her mouth opens and closes like a fish, but she doesn’t manage to get the words out.
“I told you the truth in confidence,” I shout, the disbelief I felt yesterday morning after Effie showed me the article—the lies—Kat released.
I was already feeling weird knowing that my filthy weekend with Effie was over, that when she woke up, we’d return to normal. I didn’t need to be hit with this as well.
“And then the next thing I know, I’m reading everything I told you not to say online.”
“I know, I know. And I’ve dealt with?—"
“What good is that now? The damage has already been done.”
Kat sucks in a deep breath.
“Kieran, I know you’re upset?—"
“Upset?” I echo. “I specifically told you to protect her.”
“I can assure you it will not happen again.”
“How did it happen this time? Jesus, Kat, I thought you were better than this.”
“Our intern overheard our conversation.”
My eyes widen at her confession.
“Your intern?” I say in disbelief.
“She’s been dealt with.”
“Fired?” I ask, because there is no way anyone who is willing to sell us out so easily should ever be able to step inside this stadium.
“Yes.”
I shake my head, still struggling to stabilize my emotions.
“Good. I will not let anyone out there believe that Effie is a bad person.”
“It’ll blow over. You know it will.”
Irritation ripples through me. Kat might be our publicist and understand the world we live in, but she’ll never fully appreciate what it’s like to be at this end of the stories, to have the public turn on you for fake news.
She’s right. “It will blow over, but that isn’t the point. It should never have happened in the first place.”
“I agree, and I can only apologize.”
Shaking my head, I spin on my heels and storm out of the office and then soon after the building.
The stadium is my home, but right now, it’s the last place I want to be.
" G o on, run. Run. That’s it. TOUCHDOWN,” I scream excitedly as I watch one of the boys at the summer camp we’re helping out at this week slam the ball over the line.
His teammates pile on top of him as the ref blows for the end of the game, cementing their win.
Spending time at summer camps is one of my favorite things to do.
Being back in Chicago in time for the first camps to start up has been a lifesaver.
It’s been two weeks since I did what Effie wanted and walked away, leaving her and St. Louis behind me.
They’ve been the worst two weeks of my life.
I thought it was bad after I fucked up our chance of going all the way last season. But that had nothing on this.
I swear, it would have been easier to leave a limb behind in St. Louis than Effie. Okay, so that might be a slight exaggeration, but fuck.
A huge part of me is missing, and I have no idea what to do about it.
Nothing fills the hole.
It was hard when she first left to look after Grams. I missed her so badly.
But at least then I had a piece of her. If I called her, she’d answer.
If I’d had a bad day, I’d be able to hear her voice and it would make it a little better.
I haven’t lost her. She’s still there.
For a few days, all I could think was that I’d done the wrong thing.
She didn’t respond to anything, and I was constantly thirty seconds away from grabbing my keys and driving back.
I knew I shouldn’t; I knew deep down that I did the right thing. But fuck, I wanted to.
I wanted to see if she was okay. I wanted to pull her into my arms. I wanted to kiss her, damn it.
“Good game, Coach,” Brax says, clapping me on the shoulder. A little harder than necessary, if I’m being honest. “Shame the best team didn’t win.”
“Pfft. That’s a lie and you know it.”
Today was our first day with these rugrats, and it’s been a pretty good one.
It’s the first time since I returned that I’ve been able to switch off even slightly.
We’ll drop in and out over the next few weeks to see how they progress with their normal coaches.
Being a part of these young players’ lives is such a privilege. It’s why I started the foundation.
Over the summer, we’ll spend time at a whole host of different camps across the state, making memories and hopefully inspiring the future of the NFL.
“Whatever,” he says as both teams turn our way.
I always love the first day. The kids have such stars in their eyes.
I know that people say our egos are already huge, but seeing those little eyes with so much awe and admiration makes me feel like I’m king of the world.
I also love how their relationship with us changes as they get to know us.
Right now, we’re their heroes and completely untouchable, but by the time our camp comes to an end, they realize we’re just normal people like them. And while we may be their coaches, we almost always part as friends. They are excited to embark on their next season, and we’re ready to watch their progress and see where they end up.
The group stands before us with red faces and heaving chests, ready for their post-game speech.
“You all did some fantastic work out there. Coach Rogers and I were really impressed with your starting point, and we can’t wait to see the skills you learn over the next few weeks.
“We’ve both written some feedback for each of you, which highlights your strengths and weaknesses. Things we think you should focus on during the next few weeks.”
They all nod, eager to read what we have to say.
“All of you need to clean up, get some food, and get an early night. You thought today was hard? It’s only going to get harder. But I promise you something,” I say, making a point to look each of them in the eye. “It’s going to be so worth it.
“How many of you want to be in our position in ten years’ time?”
A round of “yes, sirs” sounds out and a smile pulls at my lips. Unlike most I have given out over the last two weeks, this one is genuine.
“Hard work and determination. I can’t promise you that the road to the NFL will be easy or painless. At times, it’ll be the opposite, but when you make it, it’ll be better than you’re imagining, I promise you that.
“Now, go and hit the showers. Your coaches will provide you with our feedback later.”
It takes a few seconds for them to take off, but once the first one moves the others follow.
We chat with their camp coaches for a few minutes before Brax and I head out.
I’ve been working with these coaches for years, and they’re all fantastic teachers and guardians for our future players.
The camps we provide are everything aspiring players could possibly want. We’ve designed them with the help of both players and coaches who have experienced everything professional football can offer.
Our camp is full on. We put both boys and girls through rigorous training. But only those who show real possibility manage to secure a place. And eighty percent of our players are from underprivileged backgrounds. The kind of kids who have an abundance of potential but whose parents can’t afford the kind of training they need.
I’m so fucking proud of this program. It’s hands down the best thing I’ve done with my life so far.
Sure, playing pro is fucking insane, and I thank my lucky stars every time I step out on the field. But this…I get so much enjoyment and fulfillment from being a part of this. A part of the future.
I’m building a legacy. Not just for me and my name, not for the Chiefs, or any of my teammates specifically, but for the families of the kids who just ran off to shower. We’re building their legacy, and that means everything to me.
“You hungry?” Brax asks when we get to his car.
I didn’t have plans of letting him drive me here this morning, but he turned up at my apartment and stood his ground.
Apparently, he’s concerned about me and thought I’d appreciate not having to drive. I’m pretty sure he thought that as soon as I began driving south, I probably wouldn’t stop until I hit St. Louis. There is a very good chance that he was right, too.
I’m not sure whether I’m grateful or not.
I smirk. “Yeah, man. I’m hungry.”
“Perfect. I know just the place.”
Leaving him to whatever he’s planning, I take full advantage of my passenger princess role and pull my cell from my pocket.
As always, a little hope bubbles up that she might have messaged.
She has been a little better recently, allowing me to think that everything is going to be okay.
But still, our friendship is nowhere close to what it was.
The weight of that being my fault presses heavily on my shoulders.
I never should have suggested we temporarily take things to the next level.
It doesn’t matter if my intentions regarding getting her out of her own head worked or not. Not if this is the outcome.
The fear that she might not come back to Chicago is real.
I don’t know of anywhere else she would go. But she’s got money; the world is her oyster.
My stomach knots as regret trickles through my veins.
If it weren’t for me, she’d be back here now, living her life.
You’d also be unaware just how fucking amazing she is.
No. I already knew that.
I blow out a heavy breath and close my eyes for a beat.
It’s not until Brax speaks that I remember he’s sitting right next to me, witnessing my turmoil.
“She’ll come back,” he says confidently.
“How do you know that? Has she told you something she hasn’t told me?”
He glances over, and I see the answer in his eyes.
“You know she hasn’t. I just don’t think she’ll be happy ending up anywhere you aren’t.”
“I hope so.”
We have a while until the new season starts, but I’m not sure how I’d survive it without my lucky charm in the stands, cheering me on.
“Trust her. She just needs time.” He’s said this exact thing over and over again, but if anything, I’m struggling to believe it more now.
As the weeks go on, it’s going to get easier and easier for her to forget what she has here. There will be more and more reasons not to return.
At some point, I might not be enough.
“What is this place?” I ask when he pulls into a parking lot.
“Burgers. I found it when I was down here last summer.”
“Amazing,” I say, although I don’t really mean it.
I’ve been keeping up with my routine of exercise and healthy eating these past two weeks, but I swear nothing tastes like it used to.
Everything in my life has turned grey and bland.
Without Effie, there is no color.
I follow Brax inside, both of us tugging the caps of our hats down in an attempt to hide.
Usually, I don’t mind getting spotted and signing a few autographs, especially for kids, but right now isn’t one of those times.
Thankfully, the young server is oblivious, and she guides us to a secluded table as requested.
“Wanna hit the gym tomorrow before heading out here?” Brax asks, trying to keep my mind and body active.
“Sure,” I mutter absently as I stare at the menu.
He wants to say more, I can sense it from him without even looking up, but he refrains.
I fucking hate that I’ve turned into one of those guys you have to walk on eggshells around, but I can’t help it.
Pulling my cell free again, I tap out a message.
Kieran: Have you had a good day?