22. Amber
AMBER
‘ T hat I won’t be one of them anymore.’
Jeff’s words caused a pang in my chest and hearing him sound so vulnerable opened up feelings I’d shoved down deep.
Like maybe I’m growing real feelings for him beyond lust. He wasn’t just the confident, good-looking guy who eased through life.
He had his own insecurities and worries that plagued him just as I had mine.
Maybe we weren’t so different after all.
Laughter traveled down the hallway and shoes clicked on the cement floor as two shadows danced on the wall nearing the office.
One of the men said something, causing the other to respond and that voice sent a chill down my spine.
I knew who that voice belonged to and the tiniest of hopes that I had to clear his name disappeared.
My face tingled with fear. Uncle Martin.
He can’t see me here.
What do I do?
I darted down the hallway that we’d come in and tried every door I found, but they were all locked.
Even with a hard jiggle, the handles wouldn’t budge and the chances of him not seeing me got lower and lower each second I wasted.
Shit! Panic clawed at my throat and my heart beat so fast it physically hurt as each attempt at hiding failed.
The voices got louder and I sprinted down the narrow pathway to the entrance and almost ran face-first into Brandon’s hard chest. He caught me, but I released a loud oomph at the contact.
“Amber?” he asked, a confused smile on his face as he eyed down the direction I can from. “Are you okay?”
“I need to-to go,” I panted, looking over my shoulder and trying to get out of his grip. I had a minute tops before they came into view. “The doors. Come on.”
“Seriously, what’s going on? You’re freaking out right now.” He moved a hand behind my back and gently pushed me in the direction I needed to be going. “Your face is flushed.”
“Yeah, I remembered something.” I started running when I saw the wide doors leading outside, but Brandon followed. “I’m good, I swear.”
“Hold the hell on.” He reached out to put his hand on my arm, holding me just outside the exit, and he spoke with an authority that surprised me.
“I’m not the kind of guy who is going to let a girl run out of there looking like she saw a fucking ghost. Please, tell me what happened. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
I used my free hand to push my hair out of my face and sighed in semi-relief.
We were outside, my uncle was not, and I was probably in the clear.
I hopped down four more steps—to make a getaway easier if needed—and Brandon’s face was hard with concern.
It warmed me to see him care, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. “I didn’t want someone to see me.”
“Why? Did they hurt you?” He looked back toward the building with a frown and I drew his attention back to me.
“No. No one hurt me. I promise.”
He released his hold on me and ran a hand through his hair. “Something’s not right. Why were you here? It’s Saturday and most of the guys aren’t here yet.”
I didn’t get time to answer. The doors swung open and my Uncle Martin walked out with his arm around the shoulders of a middle-aged man I hadn’t seen before.
Every part in my body froze in place, unable to move or make a sound when his jovial face froze mid-laugh as his gaze landed on mine.
Time stopped for ten seconds when we each stared at each other.
What do I do? What is normal? Does he know?
No answer came to me. My mouth hung open and it wasn’t until Brandon cleared his throat that I snapped out of it. “Uncle Martin? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing, Amber!” He transformed his face into a smile and closed the distance to give me a huge hug—like he always did. My spine tingled at his fake grin. It looked demonic. “It’s too damn cold for us to be talking out here.”
“Agreed. I was just finishing an interview with Brandon for one of my assignments. I’d love a cup of coffee to warm up if you have time?” I avoided Brandon’s curious stare as best I could, but with one quick glance, I saw him put some pieces together.
“Actually, I’m not sure I like my answer to the last question. Can we go over it again, if you don’t mind, sir? It’s my first year on the team and I really want to look good in her article,” Brandon said, moving closer to me and addressing my uncle.
“Of course. We have plans soon anyway.” He patted my cheeks and gave Brandon a nod before turning back to the man he walked out with. “Until next time, Tony.”
Tony, whoever he was, didn’t respond. He didn’t spare us a glance before marching back through the doors, leaving the two of us alone with the wind whipping around us. Brandon waited until the doors closed before eyeing me. “You didn’t want your uncle to see you. Why?”
“Notice how he didn’t say why he was here?”
“I did catch that.” He frowned and jutted his chin toward the doors. “I’m freezing my ass off. Let’s go in.”
I didn’t wait a second before running back to the warmth and sighed at the heat.
Between the wind-chill and the adrenaline, my teeth chattered.
Brandon joined me a second later, just as Jeff came into view down the hall.
His shoulders were stiff and he walked with a purpose.
His gaze found mine, worried and concerned, before landing on Brandon.
His expression hardened and his jaw tensed. “There you are, Amber.”
“I’m sorry, a lot happened.” I gave him a warning look, but he ignored it and stared at Brandon. “Brandon helped me out from a potentially awkward situation.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” He crossed his arms over his chest and displeasure oozed off him. He did not like me standing next to Brandon. Interesting.
“Let’s talk later, okay?” I spoke softer than normal, hoping he’d get the hint.
“You’re interviewing Jeff for the article too, right?” Brandon asked, moving closer to me so ours arms touched.
“Um, yes?”
“I can see you’re uncomfortable about everything that happened, but I’d like to know why I covered for you. Can I meet up with you after practice?” he asked in a kind, unpresuming way, and I felt terrible when Jeff answered for me.
“I’ll explain it for you if you tell me what happened.”
“You?” he asked, his gaze flicking to Jeff with confusion etched on his forehead. “You weren’t even here. How would?—”
“We’re together, man. Amber and I. Figured you should know,” Jeff said, not using a kind or patient tone. His words shocked me because they weren’t exactly untrue, but they were crass and meant to send a message.
Brandon’s face fell, but he resigned himself with a long sigh and smile sadly at me. “Knew it was a long shot asking you out, but now I know.”
“I wasn’t playing games with you.”
“I know,” he said, giving my arm one more squeeze. “Still doesn’t explain what the hell just happened out there.”
I gave Jeff a look and shrugged. “It’s your call, Jeff. Tell him what you want. I’m heading home.”
“Can we talk first?” His perceptive eyes swept over my face and his frown deepened. “Please?”
Brandon cleared his throat and said, “I’m heading to the cages. I’m glad you’re okay, Amber. Really.”
“Thanks again.”
He nodded and left Jeff and I in the hallway, the tension somewhat uncomfortable as he moved toward me. He placed his hands on my face and said, “What the fuck happened? Why are you so pale?”
“My uncle was here,” I whispered. “I heard him outside your coach’s office and I ran to avoid him, about running smack into Brandon. He helped cover for me when my uncle saw me.”
“He asked you out.”
“How did you…yes. Brandon did. Weeks ago. How is this relevant?”
His eyes darkened and he moved his hands from my cheeks to my shoulders. “You have a soft spot for him.”
“He’s a nice guy.” I laughed at the disgruntled expression on his face. “Jeff…are you…jealous?”
“Yes. He stood very close to you and touched you.”
No one has ever been jealous over me before. Ever. Warmth and annoyance combined into an adrenaline rush and I took a couple of seconds to think of a response. “So that’s why you told him we were together—to keep him away from me.”
“I felt it was time to tell him. I’ll tell the team, too.”
“We aren’t together though, are we? I mean, I guess we sorta are but?—”
“We are together, Henderson.” He dropped his head so his lips teased mine. “We are together.”
“Okayyy,” I muttered, blushing from head to toe and hating how my body betrayed me with those simple words. “Still don’t think now is the time to talk about it.”
“We can talk about it later, if you want. Preferably in bed with way less clothes.” He smirked and looked real pleased with himself and I found myself grinning back at him. We were bantering. Jeff and I.
And it feels natural and amazing.
“You’re insatiable, really.” I pushed my hair out of my face and willed my skin to not redden at his attention. “This morning wasn’t enough?”
His face softened. “Not with you.”
I cleared my throat and glanced at the floor for a second to catch my breath. This was a lot to handle. My uncle, Brandon, then Jeff saying we were together. I need a drink. “Well, I’m going to head out, but maybe if you want to stop over after practice, we can talk?”
“Already planned on it.” He looked outside and winced. “Are you sure you don’t want to get an Uber or something?”
“No. The cold will do me good with all the heated looks you’re giving me,” I teased, earning an appreciative grin. “By the way, is there a coach named Tony?”
“Tony? Not that I know of. Why?”
“He’s the guy I saw walking with my uncle. He called him Tony.”
The internet had hundreds of photos of the baseball team, the players, even the coaches, but there were no pictures of the middle-aged man I’d seen walking with my Uncle Martin.
I even searched for an hour through the hockey team photos and volleyball to see if the guy’s face would pop up in anything.
While it was frustrating, it didn’t surprise me.
My uncle’s reaction to seeing me there with him had sparked something in my gut. Tony mattered in all of this and I had no idea how. I twirled my pen around in my hand for a minute before sketching out my initial thoughts.
Someone is going to these high schools and or meeting with parents to discuss some sort of deal.
Someone is involved in baseball, volleyball and hockey organizations at some point within the past four years. Potentially other sports.
One hockey coach quit two years ago and nothing shady reported since.
The stories of the fake-athletes all match.
We have a phone number of one of them.
Uncle Martin is involved.
Some sort of dean is involved.
We had enough to write an initial report…
but where to start? Did I focus on the fake-athletes, their parents, the money or the coaches?
Hell, did I go after the deans in an article, calling for them to explain it?
I needed to understand how spots were determined for each sport and how they were recruited.
That meant I needed to talk to the Dean of Athletics.
I rubbed my temples and eyed my list of actual homework that I hadn’t started.
My final project remained a blank document and I couldn’t recall why I couldn’t use this article as my final.
The requirements all pertained to the research I’d been doing with Jeff and it would save me hours of time.
I was about to jot down how I could tweak my notes and interview transcripts when the doorbell rang.
Laney was at yoga still and my pulse picked up. Jeff. It’s too early for practice to be out though.
I skipped downstairs with a huge smile on my face as I opened the door. “Hey, stranger.”
It wasn’t Jeff.
It was my Uncle Martin and he looked pissed.