4. Chapter 4 #2
His eyes narrow, as if he can sense the thoughts running through my head.
It's like he's tracking if the weight in my chest shifts and softens…
like he wants it to. Almost as if opening the door to me, baking me cookies and making me a comforting drink from his childhood were only a small part of what he'd like to do.
The wide receiver, ready to catch— me.
My heartbeats drum at a faster pace, to have his attention on me that way. I'm too raw, and reading too much into it. If I grab onto reality, it's more likely he's doing this because he's friends with my older brother. That's always been the way between us.
I cast my eyes to the chocolate in my hands and sigh. "Can I stay with you, Saint? I'll leave as soon as I can. I'll figure out my business, find my own place, and get out of your hair, I promise. "
I'll try to fix the pain and doubt this morning caused me, too, but I don't mention that part.
"Of course you can stay," he says. "Make this your homebase as long as you need to. There's no rush."
"You have to let me know if I'm overstaying… or overstepping in any way. Please. I can't take advantage of your generosity. That would be wrong."
"You won't."
"But if I do—"
"Ames. It's fine."
"And you have to let me pay rent."
He laughs.
"Saint. I'm serious."
"Sure. I'll ask my assistant to find a fair price." His lips curl into a placating line.
"Why do you look so suspicious? Like I shouldn't believe you?"
He raises an eyebrow, and busies himself scooping more cheese from his drink. "Not at all. I'll invoice you at some point."
"Saint…"
"I need to research a fair price, right? It will be a one-time fee. Negotiable." He eats the cheese, chasing it with hot chocolate. "Give me three months."
I frown. "What? Why three months?"
"A lot of things can happen in three months."
Something in his tone changes. It turns… heavier.
I cock my head. "Hey— everything okay?"
He sips from his drink again and avoids my eyes. "I got some pretty bad news today. My GM and the team are considering trading me."
"What?" I place the mug on the counter with more force than I intended. Some of the chocolate spills, and I dab at it with the paper napkin at my side. "But— last year— you guys almost won! They can't be thinking of splitting up the team now?"
"Evie connected the dots. Between a couple of emails she got and something she heard while waiting for a meeting— well— some fans think my contract was bad because, when you take the amount of years into consideration, we haven't been winning enough and I’m not worth the cost. Not until Logan.
So they think Logan, as the quarterback, should stay and try with a new receiver.
Someone who's cheaper and will free up the money for other players. "
He still doesn't look at me. His next bite takes two thirds of the cookie in his hand.
I shake my head. "I don't know enough about football to say this with total confidence, but I'm pretty sure that's bullshit."
"Apparently, that really depends who you ask.
Williamson— that's the GM— he's pushing for it.
I don't know why, as we don't really get told these things directly, but I think he wants me gone.
He's latching onto the argument and suggesting I should be the sacrificial lamb if we lose.
In short, he's decided I'm replaceable, even if I’m having my best season to date. "
He stared into his cup, a rare frown at the top of his nose.
I frown, too. "What does Evie think? Logan? The guys?"
"They all think it's bullshit, too."
"Validated!"
He snorts and gazes at me again. "We're in the running for the big game this year.
It's almost certain that they'll wait to see if we win.
If I get the MVP on top of it, it would really help my case.
I'm a pretty damn good player and quite expensive to other teams, especially with an MVP-style season, but there's a non-zero chance they'd trade me.
More so if they need a fall guy. We'll see what happens when the season ends in three months. "
"That's a lot of pressure, Saint."
He nods. "Looks like the next little while is pretty high stakes for both of us."
"You have to be the best at what you do this year, which, no biggie. And I have to find a replacement for my biggest client. Easy peasy! "
He clinks his mug with mine again and smiles. "Maybe that's why it makes sense we're shacking up together for a while."
"So we can cheer each other on?"
"I live for a good cheer." He smiles. "Can't wait to see you in a mini skirt, jumping up and down and singing my name."
I snort. "And how will you cheer me on?"
"I'll wear a mini skirt too, if you like."
"And sing my name?"
"I'll dance to it, too."
"Should we get pom-poms?"
"In your favorite color."
"Purple."
"As long as it's a deep, saturated purple. Lilac tones wash me out."
I laugh and he gives me a self-satisfied smile.
"Thank you," I say again.
The weight in my chest still craters between my lungs, but it doesn't wreck me like I might have guessed before this horrible morning.
At least in part, I owe it to Saint and how he's handled this evening. Now all I need to do is figure out how to salvage my life and my business… and do it all as soon as possible.