CHAPTER FIFTY
Hardy
“ R ush says things are going good. He thinks ?”
“What do you mean, he thinks ?” I ask Lennox as I take a sip of coffee and wince. Most days it’s still tea for me, but this schedule is running me ragged.
Between my own personal conditioning mornings, days at the academy with the kids, and the upgrades we’re rushing to do before Whitney gets back, then my own practice, and the best part of my day—the nights with Whitney—it’s exhausting.
The past few nights have been spent watching the telly and giving her a proper introduction to British satire, dinners where we sit across the island from each other talking about football tactics or something one of the kids did at practice that day, but every night ends with us in bed together. Talking. Kissing. Fucking. Falling asleep as we laugh.
It’s one of the weirdest, most stressful times in my life, but it’s also the best by so many measures.
“He just said you’ve been keeping your head down, practicing hard, and skipping your typical nights out with the guys. As your agent, I applaud this wholeheartedly. As your friend, I wonder why this is happening and if you’re okay.”
“Definitely okay,” I murmur and hiss as the coffee scalds my tongue. I lift a hand and wave to Martin as he gets out of his car. “Feeling good. Have the game this weekend and our chances are good. Worked through a new formation that I’m finally feeling confident with.” I lean back against my car and chuckle. Fuck it. Why not? “And okay, you were right.”
“I was right? About?” she asks as I stay silent. “Oh. OH . Okay. I love being right.” Her laugh rings out and has me shaking my head.
“What were you right about?” Rush’s voice booms through the phone.
I groan. Fuck. I just opened that door for him, didn’t I?
“It’s okay.” Lennox laughs. “Sorry. I should have warned you that you were on speaker, but you can talk. He already figured it all out.”
“Figured what out?” I ask.
“That you and hot soccer coach are a thing,” she teases.
“How? I just told you that you were right. I haven’t said shit to the guys or anyone.”
“Let me count the ways,” she says drolly. “You insisted to Ari that she go to the premiere in New York. You wrangled your teammates into helping at her academy. Apparently, you spent numerous days at the hospital with her. For her. I don’t know because you’ve kept quiet about it and let’s face it, Hardy, you never keep quiet about anything ... so two plus two sometimes actually does equal four.”
“And this equals four,” Rush chimes in.
“Awesome,” I mutter.
“Hey, sometimes it takes a good woman to make you an even better man,” Rush says, and Lennox makes an awe sound in the background. “Look at what it did for me.”
I roll my eyes but smile. “Someone’s getting laid tonight,” I tease.
“One can hope,” Rush says. “I’m late for a meeting. I should be at the game this weekend. At least that’s the plan. Cheers.”
“Later,” I say.
“Sorry about that,” Lennox says. “He didn’t even give me a chance to gloat properly.”
I laugh. “Feel free.”
“I will.” She pauses. “So tell me everything.”
“Not on your life.”
“Damn. Being an agent to men is so boring sometimes. No one likes to spill any details.”
“How about this, she matters, okay?”
“No shit.”
“No shit,” I reiterate.
“You’ve gone and fallen for her.” She claps her hands together and then fights whatever giddy female response she wants to give and clears her throat. “Sorry. I had a moment.”
I shake my head. “So I need some help with something.”
“You need a favor? You never need one.”
“Not really a favor per se. A favor is when you need something for someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
“Go on.” Intrigue laces through her tone.
“This? This is deserved.”
“So why do you sound so cautious?”
“Because this matters, Lennox.” Because she matters .
“Ask away. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”