Chapter 11
I’m thirty-six years old, and I’ve never kissed a forehead in my life.
But I had to kiss … something. I just had to.
Holy hell, that was intense. The lust I felt wasn’t solely from me.
It permeated the air, enveloping us. I’m not sure if Audrey knew she moaned out loud, but I’m sure glad she did. It was incredibly hot.
And even I know that meant she was turned on. Which means she is attracted to me.
I pull up Maddox’s contact information as I climb into my car. I don’t even give him the time to speak before I shout, “She’s into me! She’s fucking into me!”
“Christ almighty, QB,” he rasps, his voice thick and gravelly. “It’s eight in the morning. How the fuck do you know she’s into you at this godforsaken hour of the day?”
“I was at her clinic. I did the hair over the ear thing. Then I asked if I could take her hair down from her bun, and she said yes. As soon as my fingers hit her scalp, she moaned. Loudly, I might add. It was hot.”
“You’re sure it wasn’t just a response to physical touch?” he asks.
“I’m sure.” I pause. “At least I think I’m sure. Her pupils were blown out. I swear I read somewhere that it means a person is turned on when that happens.”
“Or they have a brain tumor,” Maddox mutters.
“Let’s just stay on the optimistic side and assume it’s because she’s attracted to me.”
“I’m sure that’s the reason, man. Who wouldn’t be attracted to you? I’m confident enough in myself to say that you’re a damn good looking guy. And with that bank account, it would be more concerning if she weren’t into you.”
“That’s the thing, though,” I say, turning out of the clinic parking lot as I head toward the Coyotes facilities. “She’s not into me for those reasons. I’d even venture to say me being a rich, professional athlete is a negative to her.”
“Alright. Well, now what happens? You’ve still got a few months until the charity event. You gonna put the moves on her, and risk making things awkward for a bit? Or wait it out?”
“Shit,” I mumble. “I was so in the moment, I forgot about that. I hate how complicated this is. What should I do?”
“Don’t know what to tell you,” Maddox says through a yawn. “But I am going to implement a new rule for our friendship, QB.”
“What?”
“No relationship breakthroughs before lunchtime. I’m going back to bed.” He ends the call with no fanfare, and I chuckle as I head to get an unplanned workout in.
“No.”
“I hate that I have to ask you, but my daughter invited me to her graduation party. I’ve never been truly close with her, so this means a lot that she extended the invitation.
But I was already scheduled to attend that gala this weekend.
You’d be doing me a huge favor if you went in my place,” Coach says, his eyes pleading with me.
I’m regretting coming in for a workout. The high that I felt after leaving Audrey’s has dwindled to a flat feeling of nothingness. If I hadn’t been here, Coach wouldn’t have seen me, and I could have avoided all of this. Because he wants me to escort his niece to the gala.
“I don’t feel comfortable with this at all, Coach.”
“I know. If I hadn’t promised her, I’d send the tickets back.”
I sigh, letting my head fall back in frustration. This is only my second season with him. Is he the kind of coach that holds grudges? Would he take it out on me, or the entire team? How can I get out of this without repercussions?
“Can you ask anyone else?” I finally say. “I’m not the best in social situations where I don’t have time to prepare. And you’re asking me to go with someone I’ve never met, which means I’ll be even more uncomfortable than I already am.”
Coach nods. “I know. If it helps, I didn’t want to go either. But when Mr. Sanderson hand delivers tickets, I don’t think we get a choice.”
Martin Sanderson and his family own the Colorado Coyotes, as well as the Albuquerque Scorpions NHL team, and two baseball teams in California.
Mr. Sanderson only visits a few times a year, choosing to reside in San Diego, near the San Diego Surge baseball team.
His granddaughter, Jordan, manages the day-to-day operations here in Denver.
“Shit,” I mutter. “I really don’t have a choice, do I?”
Coach exhales loudly, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “I’m choosing to view it as an opportunity for you to grow as a leader, Wahlberg. I’ll text you the details, and where you’ll need to pick up my niece.”
“How old is she?” I ask, visualizing a teenager with braces and acne.
“She’s twenty-seven.” Great. I can already see how this is going to go, and I want to lay down the law right now.
“You need to make it abundantly clear to her that absolutely nothing will happen between us. We will be cordial and respectful, but there will be no touching, kissing, or anything else.”
“Of course not, asshole. I don’t want her hooking up with an athlete anyway.”
“Alright. Just so we’re on the same page. What’s her name?”
“Tessa.” Coach looks around before stepping closer to me. “Listen. Don’t let her drink. She has, on occasion, gotten a little wild when she’s been under the influence.”
“Dude, I am not babysitting your niece. Tell her not to drink, or I’m leaving her ass there alone.”
His eyes widen as his nostrils flare. “I don’t appreciate a threat, Jameson. Watch your fucking tone. I’m still your coach, and you better show me some respect.”
“Then show me the same respect!” I hiss, anger coursing over me in palpable waves. “You pulled the owner card. That’s so messed up. I literally just started talking to a woman, and now it’s going to look like I’m taking someone else out to a fancy event.”
Coach steps back as he studies me. “Really? You’ve got a girl? Honestly wondered if you were gay, not gonna lie.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re a funny guy while asking for a favor. Not gay. Just very selective.” I begin to walk away from him, wanting to get as far from this conversation as possible. I feel my anxiety rising, and if I don’t get out of here, it could spiral into a full-blown panic attack.
“She know you’re autistic?” he asks, and I stop dead in my tracks.
“What?” I growl, still facing away from him.
Coach walks around me, lowering his voice. “Does she know you’re autistic? And what to expect when you’re spiraling? Or when you’re overstimulated?”
My body shakes as I struggle to maintain my composure.
“As I said, I just started talking to her. So no, my mental health and medical diagnoses have not come up in conversation yet. At this moment, I’m a little more concerned with the fact that you just spewed that out in the middle of the facility, when you know I keep that shit private. ”
Coach puts up his hands in a defensive stance, his eyes darting around.
My gaze follows his, and I should be relieved there’s no one around, but I’m not.
His eyes are full of pleading, and he scratches at his beard as he leans toward me.
“I know. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know there are only a few people within the organization who know.
I’d never blast that out. When you’re ready to tell her, we can sit down to work out a plan. ”
I bleakly nod, suddenly so overcome with fatigue and emotional exhaustion. “It’s not cool to announce that shit.”
“I apologize. You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry, man.
I just don’t want you to get in over your head with this girl.
You’re the first genuine person who welcomed me in Denver, and I want to be sure you’re surrounded by people who value you like I do.
” I can hear the sincerity in his voice, but I’m still ticked.
“She’s different. I can feel it. If I need your help working out a strategy, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, keep my personal business to yourself. You want me blurting out your private business, old man?”
“Noted. But if you call me an old man again, I’ll force you to run suicides against me next practice,” he calls out as he walks away. “We’ll see who the old man really is then.”
I’m not dumb. He’s in excellent shape, and would beat me by a mile.
I felt drained and out-of-sorts all week.
Mentally preparing for this stupid gala with Coach’s niece has me stressed and tense, while attempting to maintain composure and not blurt everything out to Audrey is exhausting the hell out of me.
How do I explain to someone that I’m escorting a woman I don’t want to be with to an event that I don’t want to go to?
It might sound easy, but I have an unfortunate habit of rambling when I’m extra nervous.
It’s why I plan responses for everything.
I know what reporters will ask. What they’ll focus on.
I have no idea what Audrey might say, and that scares the hell out of me.
I was close to showing up at her townhouse and confessing, but Maddox talked me out of it.
Everything he said was fact. I’m not dating Audrey.
We haven’t had any discussions about interest on either side.
Furthermore, according to Maddox, if we were only dating, I still wouldn’t owe her any information unless we’d discussed being exclusive.
Besides, he said, it’s only one event. I’m definitely not interested in Coach’s niece, so I can do my team duty and move on.
But as I’m in the car with Tessa while she talks animatedly about how all her friends are ‘so jealous’ she’s on this ‘date’ with me, I feel like my head is going to explode.
“This isn’t a date,” I snap for the third time.
“Hmm?”
“Tessa. This isn’t a date. I’m helping your uncle out, and that’s it.
” My driver, Tony, looks back at me through the rearview mirror with a questioning look.
I’ve used him for the last five years for any event where I might have a drink or two.
In this instance, I think keeping Tessa out of any of my vehicles is also a good idea.
She seems like the type to either memorize my license plate, or put a tracker in my car somewhere.