33. Avery
THIRTY-THREE
AVERY
If I stare at my computer any longer, I’m going to go cross-eyed.
We’re not even halfway through the season, and I already feel like I’ve hit a wall. I’m tired. My feet constantly hurt, and I don’t remember the last time I ate a meal sitting down.
From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep, work consumes me. The only break I get from it all is when I tumble into bed with Reid, his hands on my body a welcomed reprieve from the stress of my everyday life.
My conversation with Andrew last week isn’t helping either. His words are still echoing in my ears, and I can’t get his smug smile out of my head.
I can’t get Reid out of my head, either.
No one’s ever stood up for me like that.
I didn’t go to his place after the game, choosing to spend the night alone in my apartment with a bottle of wine. Our communication has been sparse since Sunday, and I know he’s giving me space. Giving me time to process what was said to me, but I’ve been wanting to hear from him.
As if on cue, my phone buzzes. I snatch it up, happy to see a text from him waiting for me on the screen.
Reid
How’s everyone taking the loss over there?
Me
We’re just fine, thanks. No need to rub it in.
Reid
How are you?
Me
Tired. Hungry. I haven’t eaten lunch yet, and I’m starving.
Reid
Want me to bring you something?
Me
You don’t have to do that.
Reid
I’m in the area.
Me
You’re in Baltimore?
Reid
No, but I can be. Shawn gave the guys the day off, and I have nothing to do.
Me
Oh.
That’s okay. I’m fine. Really.
Reid
Stop overthinking it and tell me what you want, Avery. You need to eat.
Me
Thai sounds good.
Reid
Anything in particular?
Me
Surprise me.
Reid
I’ll call when I’m parking.
An hour later, I’m downstairs waiting by the visitor’s entrance when my phone rings.
“Hey,” Reid says, breathless on the other side of the line when I answer.
“Hey. I’m inside. Figured I’d escort you up so you can’t pull a fast one on me and booby trap my office.”
“You want me to stay?”
“Did you only bring food for me?”
“No,” he admits. “I grabbed something for myself, but I figured I’d eat in the car. I don’t want to interrupt your day.”
“Come up. I need a break, and it would be good for me to put my phone down for a minute.”
We end the call and he pulls open the heavy glass door, his hair a little windblown and his cheeks a little red. He makes his way through security screening and spots me, lifting his chin in greeting as he shuffles over with two large plastic bags.
“Are you feeding a small army?” I take the bag from his left hand and head for the elevators. “This looks like one of everything off the menu.”
“It is. If you don’t want to give me detailed instructions, I’m going to interpret it however I see fit.” He fixes his glasses behind his ears. “Whatever we don’t eat, I’ll take around the corner. I saw a guy hanging out with his dog under the overpass, and I figured he might like a hot meal.”
“That’s Larry,” I say. “And his dog’s name is Biscuit.”
“Larry,” Reid repeats with a smile. “You’ve met him before.”
“A few times. He wished me good luck before my interview years ago, and I’ve always tried to check in on him. Biscuit is his best friend, and he loves peanut butter.”
“Does Larry like spicy food?”
“He does. I’m sure he’d be happy with some leftovers.”
“I’ll make sure to visit him after.”
Knowing he has a plan for the extra food makes my skin prickly and warm. It makes my stomach do a summersault and my heart twist in my chest, a dangerous thing.
“That’s nice of you,” I say quietly as we step into the elevator.
“I try to be a nice guy.” Reid shrugs and leans against the wall. He stares at the ceiling before looking at me. “When was the last time you had a real meal?”
“Um.” I pull on the hem of my dress, distracted by his attention. “Dinner last night?”
“That sounds like a question, not an answer.”
“Dinner,” I repeat. “We had a team photoshoot this morning, and there was no time for breakfast. I did have a coffee, though, so I’m not operating on an entirely empty stomach.”
“Avery,” he murmurs. “You need to take care of yourself. The season is only going to get busier and?—”
“I know,” I snap, wincing at my tone. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to get better about setting time aside for my meals while I’m at the office, but I’m being pulled in a dozen different directions. It’s hard to put myself first.”
Understanding dawns, and his features sharpen. Reid hums and steps toward me. His fingers hook under my chin and he lifts my head.
I’m not sure I’m breathing.
“People-pleaser,” he says. My eyes widen, and he blows out a laugh, a puff of air. “I didn’t forget.”
“I told you that the night we met.”
“I have a good memory. Here’s what’s going to happen: the nights you come to my place, I’m sending you home with leftovers so you have a meal for the next day. The days you’re busy and don’t have a free minute to order something, I’m going to have food delivered to you. Barry the intern and I are friends, and his job duties now include getting you the food I send.”
“But I?—”
“You can take care of yourself. I see that. I know that. You’re a strong, independent woman, Ave, and that’s badass. But I’d like to help a little bit. If you’ll let me.”
The same sensation I felt the other night when he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight settles in me again.
I felt it during the game too, when he went after Andrew.
It’s the recognition that, yes, this is physical.
Yes, we fuck anywhere and everywhere.
But there’s something else lingering under the surface.
A deeper connection neither of us have explored.
It would be easy for him to brush aside my problems.
Deem them not his problem and walk away.
He’s not, though.
He’s offering me a hand. Figuring out how he can carry some of the load, and no one has ever done that for me before.
“Okay,” I whisper. The elevator doors open to my floor, and neither one of us walks out. “You can help.”
“Thank you.” Reid holds out an arm and gestures for me to go ahead. I slip past him, my shoulder grazing against his chest, and heat radiates from him.
I want him.
I want him so badly I can’t think of anything else.
The hunger is gone.
The exhaustion is gone.
All that’s left is the desire to feel his skin against mine.
To sink onto him and fuck him until he’s saying my name like a goddamn prayer.
“Find any ducks lately?” he asks, and I clear my thoughts.
“One this morning in my closet on a shelf I can’t reach. How did you manage that?”
“Maverick. His height comes in handy.”
We step into my office. I sit on the couch and stretch out my legs. My stomach rumbles, and Reid gives me a knowing look.
“What? It’s good timing.” I unload the containers and shake my head at the mess. “This is an alarming amount of food.”
“Like I said: whatever doesn’t get eaten is going to a good home. I promise I won’t waste it. Now dig in, Sinclair. I don’t want to hear another word out of you until you’ve had at least eight bites.”
Any retort I have dies on my tongue. I slurp down the tum kea chicken soup and dig into the mixed vegetables next. Ten minutes turns into fifteen, and I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I reach a breaking point after devouring half an order of pad se-ew.
“I’m full,” I say. “I can’t do anymore.”
“Thank you for letting me feed you.” Reid takes the carton from me, and I blush. His fingers brush against mine, and a jolt of electricity jumps through me. “Take a break.”
I drop my head on the pillows, ready for a nap. “This might have been counterproductive. I don’t want to do anything else the rest of the day.”
“What else is on your agenda?” he asks.
“I’m doing a player profile on Malcolm, so we have an interview scheduled. I also have a meeting with our ticket sales manager this afternoon.”
Reid looks at me. “Avery.”
“Yes?”
“We need to talk about what happened at the game.”
“No, we don’t.” I stand up and grab the empty containers, dropping them in the trash can and organizing my desk. “I’d prefer to forget about it.”
“Hey.” He stands from the chair he’s sitting in and touches my wrist. “Did I do something wrong?”
I want to laugh.
What Reid did is the furthest thing from wrong.
It was the most selfless thing a man has ever done for me, and I’ve been grappling with how to thank him. How to tell him how much I appreciate what he did and the things he said.
Thank you for standing up for me to that sexist prick doesn’t seem sufficient.
“No.” I turn to face him, and he’s frowning. “You were... perfect. Wonderful. Every other lovely word you can find in the dictionary? Your picture would be under it. But what happened at the game isn’t new. It’s something I’ve experienced for years, and I’m going to keep experiencing it. You heard it on my date the night we met. You heard it again on Sunday. My ex used to say shit like that, for fuck’s sake. There’s a large number of people out there who don’t think women belong in this world I’m a part of, and I have to live with that.”
“It’s bullshit,” he mumbles, tugging me to the couch. “Fucking bullshit.”
“It is,” I agree. “You remember what Andrew said. He told me to tone it down. I’m doing too much. I’ve always felt like… like I take up too much space. Like my dreams are too big. Like I’m wrong for wanting to be the best in an industry that tries so hard to make me feel small and shove me in a tiny box.”
“You don’t take up too much space, Avery,” Reid says around a shaky breath. “You should take up more. All of it, if you can, and the last place a person like you should ever be is in a fucking box.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, and my hands tremble as I rest them on my thighs. “Ever since I’ve been involved with football, working in the NFL headquarters has been my goal. I considered the Thunderhawks a stepping stone. I figured I’d stay here a few years. I’d build a reputation, then I’d really make a name for myself in New York. I don’t think that’s going to be happening anytime soon.”
“What about a different goal? One that doesn’t involve sexist assholes who deserve a trip to HR?”
“I’ll dream up something new eventually. Maybe it’s here. Maybe it’s somewhere else. I don’t know yet.” I sneak a glance up at him, and he’s already staring at me. “For now, this is enough. Our bet is still on, Duncan, and if you think I’m going down without a fight, you have another thing coming.”
His lips twitch into a smile. “Did you look at the numbers I gave you?”
“I did.”
“And?”
I sigh, defeated. “You’re still ahead of me. Yes, you’re allowed to gloat, but don’t get too excited. We still have a long way to go.”
Reid laughs, and the sound makes me the happiest I’ve been in days. “Are you serious? I thought for sure you would be winning.”
“You thought wrong. What happens if one of us wins one part of the bet and the other wins the second part?”
He shrugs. “We fuck, call it even, and try again next season?”
It’s my turn to laugh. “You have yourself a deal.” My computer pings with a meeting reminder, and I sigh. “I should get going. I don’t want to start my afternoon behind schedule.”
“I’ll clean this up and head out.”
“Are you sure? I’m sorry to dine and dash, especially because you drove all the way out here and?—”
“It’s fine. Really.” He scoops up the untouched food and drops it back in the plastic bag. “Go.”
“Thank you for lunch. I feel like a new human, and I really appreciate it.”
“I’m leaving the soup in your mini fridge so you have something to eat tomorrow,” he says, and I nod.
“That’s perfect.” I stand and smooth out the wrinkles in my dress. “Hey, Reid?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for being here. For being there for me at the game on Sunday. For…” I trail off, the words difficult to find. “Thank you for pausing the feud so you could be on my side.”
“Ah.” He pushes his glasses up his nose. “We never paused the feud. Competition or not, I meant every word.”
“You did?” I ask, and my heart thumps in my chest like a metronome.
“You never take up too much space, Ave. Not with me,” he says. “I think I’d like you to take up more of it.”
When I get back from my meeting, the only trace that Reid was here at all is the single rubber duck sitting on my keyboard, a sticky note with a hand-drawn heart right next to it.