Chapter 11
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
MAISIE
What a freaking… asshole.
I’ve spent the last almost two hours fuming over the audacity of this man. I hardly even paid attention to the game. All I know is that Saint scored two goals, and Lennon spent at least thirty minutes talking about how she was going to blow his mind later.
Gross.
In a loving way, of course, but still gross.
I glance down at my phone again, refreshing my email for the tenth time, which is overkill, seeing as how the email that I fired off when I was losing my ever-loving mind has probably not even been read yet by the intended party, considering he was slightly preoccupied for the last two hours.
I probably shouldn’t have done that, but he also shouldn’t have spoken to me the way that he did.
It was rude, and condescending, and… sexist.
Just because he regrets what happened between us and clearly wants to make sure that it never happens again does not give him the right to treat me like that.
My thumb hovers over the screen as I pull up my email, rereading it again.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Per our conversation
COACH Hawthorne,
Seeing as how you didn’t give me the chance to respond to your accusation, I’d like to say that you’re rude.
And quite frankly, you have zero privilege to speak on the things that you did. NOR the right.
Have the night you DESERVE.
P.S Just in case you didn’t get it– have a TERRIBLE night. :)
I smirk, bringing my hand up to stifle the giggle.
Okay, so, sure, it reads a tad bit immature and petty, but you know what? It’s much better than the alternative of what I wanted to say, and… it got my point across. And still way more professional than he treated me.
I feel better already.
Mission accomplished.
“Mais,” Lennon groans as we make our way out to the lounge to wait for Saint and Bennett. “What is up with you? You were on your phone the entire game.”
A pang of guilt tugs in my stomach, but I push it down. I know that as badly as I want to spill all of the details, every last dirty one of them, to my best friend… I can’t. No matter how much it sucks.
But I have to keep this a secret. Even when the person in question makes me want to throttle him for the way he’s behaving. But I can’t be responsible for him potentially losing his job, not when we didn’t know we were crossing a line at the time.
It’s not his fault. Just an unfortunate coincidence.
I don’t think that Lennon would tell anyone. I trust her with everything, but I also don’t want to put her in an uncomfortable situation by asking her to keep it from Saint. While I trust Lennon explicitly, Saint, I’m not sure just yet.
Not with something like this.
“Sorry, Len. I was just trying to check my email because I’m waiting on an email to come through from the executive director of the program.
” I offer her a smile, slipping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her into my side.
She drops her head onto my shoulder. “I’m sorry.
It was crappy of me to come tonight and not be present.
You deserve my full attention, and you have it. Swear.”
“It’s fiiiine,” she singsongs, lifting her head to look at me. “You don’t need to apologize. I just want to make sure that everything’s okay with you.”
My brows knit together. “Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”
She shrugs. “I dunno. I just know it’s so weird that we’re not living together anymore, and we’ve spent our whole lives basically being inseparable, and I feel like this terrible friend who gets a boyfriend and then isn’t around anymore, an—”
“Len,” I say as I place my fingers over her lips.
“Babe. You are not a terrible friend. I miss you, duh, obviously, and I admit that I miss our girls’ nights and being able to raid your closet for clothes and eating a pint of ice cream together on our couch while we talk about our days.
Of course I miss that, but no matter where we are in life, we’re always going to have each other. Okay?”
Lennon nods, and her eyes shine with moisture, so I throw my arms around her neck and pull her in for a hug, murmuring, “You’re never getting rid of me.
You’re just living your life. You’re happy, and thriving, and experiencing so many things for the first time, just as you should.
I want you to have all of that and more, and the last thing you need to be doing is worrying about me. ”
She sniffles, and I wrap her tighter in my arms. This is my ride-or-die girl, my bestie, the one who has been through every phase of my life, every season. She’s never wavered. She’s weathered every storm.
“I love you, Mais.”
Emotion tears at my throat, making it hard to talk, but I swallow it down.
“Love you more, Len.”
When I pull back to look at her, a watery laugh rattles out of her. “God, am I literally crying right now at the arena? Jeez.” She drags her thumb along her lash line, gathering the moisture. “Sorry. I just… that was weighing on me, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Reaching for her hand, I lace our fingers together. “I’m totally fine. More than fine, actually, because now we can go get pizza, and I’m so hungry I could die.”
She follows my gaze to where Saint and Bennett have just strolled out of the locker room, freshly showered and dressed in their suits instead of uniforms.
My happiness is short-lived when a few moments later, Wilder appears behind them.
The dark, navy suit he’s wearing is undoubtedly expensive and tailored to fit every inch of his powerful frame, and as angry as I am, it doesn’t deter my body’s reaction to him. My pulse races with each step he takes as I drink every inch of him in.
The expensive loafers, crisp white button-down, and deep burgundy tie make him look as if he belongs in a boardroom and not in an arena.
“Heyyyyy, beautiful,” Bennett says as he saunters over, his mouth curved into a playful grin. “Enjoy the game?”
I nod with a smile. “Yeah, it was great. Good interception.”
He groans dramatically. “Mais, fucking hell, this isn’t football. It’s a block, not an interception.”
I lift my shoulder. “Potato, potahto.”
Saint chuckles beside him and then goes back to sucking face with Lennon, which we’re both doing our best to ignore.
“Where should we go to eat?” Bennett says as he tosses his arm around my shoulder. I attempt to sidestep him, shrugging out of it, but before I can…
There’s Wilder.
Here.
Standing directly in front of us.
His hard, unyielding stare bounces between the two of us, appearing slightly… murderous.
“Miss Delacroix, can I have a word in my office?”