Chapter 10 #2
It’s the most real and honest answer I didn’t anticipate.
Cole Matthews is sensitive and exhausted. He’s tired of living in a shadow and trying to measure up—of never being seen.
I read articles and watched highlights of his dad’s career.
The man was truly a football legend. I learned he died a few years ago from a debilitating disease known for affecting athletes with repeated head trauma.
After a few hours of reading, it was clear that expectations were placed on Cole’s shoulders long before he was old enough to carry them.
Watching him play today, I wondered if that load ever gets too heavy. If he’s ever had a chance to stand on his own—to be Cole without football and the weight of everyone’s dreams pressing down on him.
Given that it only took an hour for pictures of us to start circulating through the rumor mill, I’d guess the answer is no.
So, I get it, I think. He’s never had the chance to be anyone other than his father’s son.
Those blue, blue eyes land on mine. “Women don’t want me.
They want to hang out, post pictures, and sleep with the guy in the jersey with my name stitched across the back.
They want who they think that guy is and what my name signifies, not the real deal.
All too quickly, they’re sorely disappointed. ”
I let that simmer for a moment as he eases back into the couch. I might understand that all a little too well. Totally and completely different, but underneath, it’s all the same.
I break the silence, keeping my voice soft so he knows I heard him. “Letting people see who we really are, trusting them with that. . .it’s the most risky and terrifying thing we’ll ever do.”
His eyes strike mine, searching, and it’s my turn to look away, fearful of what he might see.
I tuck my knees in a little tighter.
The air in the room suddenly feels heavy, and Cole must sense it, too, because he turns the game back on.
“According to sources, I guess I have a girlfriend now.” There’s a smirk riding across his lips, our little moment dissolving back to this—our newfound surface-level rhythm.
“Ha. I’m just here to keep you from getting your ass lit up. If that’s what you define as a girlfriend, well then. . . ”
His head falls back, and laughter tumbles out, causing my nerves to stand down. “TJ isn’t real excited about this being your job. I’m worried about him lighting my ass up.”
“What?” It’s my turn to shift toward him.
All trace of his smile vanishes. “TJ. Isn’t he your boyfriend?”
“TJ?” The idea is so absurd I want to laugh, but I’m too shocked by him thinking such a thing. “TJ is not my boyfriend.”
“Really?” He rubs his jaw. “Huh.”
I lean closer, needing to understand what that “huh” meant. “Why would you think that?”
He peeks at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Matthews, let me remind you that I’m here with orders to protect you from the cowardly. That doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass.”
Both eyebrows shoot up along with the corner of his mouth. “That’s not necessary. He told me that if anything happened to you, I’d answer to him.”
I’m going to kill him.
“Did he now?”
“His territory was claimed loud and clear.”
A fire ignites underneath my skin and spreads. “I’m no one’s territory.” It comes out harsh, but I can’t help it. “He’s not my boyfriend, and right now, he’s lucky we aren’t in the same room.”
Cole’s brow scrunches together. “I didn’t mean. . . ”
A blaze consumes me, and I tug at the collar on my T-shirt, seeking a moment to slow my body’s response.
Cole’s face is filled with confusion, and I’m sorry for it. I know he didn’t mean what he said.
I blow out a breath, trying to smooth my raging defenses. “He’s like my brother, I guess, if I had one,” I say softly. “But he can take that overbearing protectiveness and shove it. You can be sure I’ll be showing him where.”
“I was a little worried about the SportsElite event coming up. Whoever doesn’t think we’re together now will when we show up together.”
The idea of attending a formal event with him makes my dinner lunge for my esophagus.
“I have enough people after me. I didn’t need one more.”
I glance at him. “Well, TJ isn’t an issue.”
His gaze lingers on me again, catching my lack of enthusiasm. “It’s a big deal. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be going. My agent is insistent.”
Fantastic.
“Yeah, well, maybe your secret admirer will come out to play.”
He stares at me. “Do we want that?”
“We need them to come out from hiding.”
“How long do you think this will go on?” His tone is soft and concerned.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Depends on how desperate this person is and how weak they calculate you to be.” I meet his eyes, needing him to hear me. “We’re stepping into a dangerous game not made for the fragile. You need to be strong and do what I say.”
He has to trust me, and after tonight, I understand that’s asking a lot. It’s something I don’t do. Ever.
He stares at me before he nods. “Ok.”
I push my lips to the side, wanting him to know he can. “I guess I’ll be your girlfriend then.” Those are words I never thought I’d say.
That brilliant grin returns. “I’m honored you sound so thrilled at the prospect.”
I kick my feet out toward him. “Yeah, well, manage your expectations. My girlfriend services end at keeping you from getting shanked. Beyond that, I pretty much suck at it.”
He laughs. “Sounds like we’ll make a great pair.”
“Yeah,” I breathe out, pushing my drama queen nerves aside temporarily before they haul their asses back out to put on a show.
This is about to get real in front of a whole lot of people.
“All right, Matthews, you’d better teach me something about this game that consumes your life.” I wave a hand toward the TV.
His eyes widen. “You want me to teach you about football?”
I raise and lower one shoulder. “If I have to watch you and act like I care, I’d better understand how it works. Then I can judge for myself if you’re any good or just a chip off the old block.”
He smiles, and I already know that when it’s the real deal, it’s beautiful.
I peek at him out of the corner of my eye as he starts talking and pointing, explaining what’s happening. I try to take it all in. It’s the first time I sense joy in his tone, and I can tell by the way he leans forward that this game isn’t just his life. It’s his passion.
I wonder how much of it is because it’s his dream, or he’s simply never been allowed to have another. A little tidbit I file away in trying to piece together my assignment, the Cole Matthews I’m beginning to understand the rest of the world never gets to see.
______
VAN: Dinner at home tomorrow. It’s Track and Hope’s anniversary.
LYLA: Crap. How did I forget this?
ME: I’m on assignment.
ME: Uh, guys. It’s tomorrow. Who’s getting a gift?
VAN: Seriously, Ry. I’m sure you can manage to get The Assignment to dinner and back safely.
LYLA: Can we call him THE ASSIGNMENT? It sounds sexy.
JOS: Maybe you just want to keep The Assignment to yourself.
LYLA: Do you like living with him better than us?
VAN: I think we should get Track and Hope a week away.
LYLA: LOL. Track trust you all to go away for a week?
JAMIE: Well, he’d trust TJ and Van. And me.
TJ: Would you guys quit blowing up my phone?
VAN: Oh, piss off, Grumpy.
JOS: Hey! Just because I started that fire doesn’t mean I can’t be trusted.
LYLA: He trusts me.
ME: Right, Ly. If he needs an undercover makeover.
LYLA: Perfectly styled tactical gear is important. Who found you your favorite holster, RYDER?
VAN: I’ll book them a spa somewhere far away. Hope will love it.
TJ: Just let me know what I owe.
JOS: Can’t wait to meet The Assignment.
LYLA: The Assignment. *Crying-laughing face emoji*
JAMIE: I can’t wait until he finds out that’s what we call him.
VAN: Booked.
VAN: *Picture attached of the receipt.*
VAN: Divide by six. TJ, that’s the ÷ symbol on the calculator.
TJ: *Middle finger emoji*