Chapter 5 #2
Me: One. He's an idiot. He's looking over my shoulder at this whole convo right now.
Fox madea face like he was offended on principle.
Cheerleader: Hi roommate.
Fox practically giggled with delight and literally waved at the phone.
Me: He says hi back. Don't be nice to him. He’ll glob onto you and probably move in.
Cheerleader: He sounds great.
Me: He's not. He's a menace.
Cheerleader: Anyway. Interrogation officially closed.
Me: Did I pass?
Cheerleader: …
Cheerleader: You passed.
Me: I would like to hear that again.
Cheerleader: Greedy.
Me: Once more please.
Cheerleader: PASSED, Cat Daddy. Stop fishing.
Me: Friday at 6?
Cheerleader: Friday at 6. I'll be on the curb in front of the Rhinehaus.
Cheerleader: Don't make me wait. I have an underdeveloped tolerance for being stood up.
Me: I will not stand you up. I will be early. I will be SO early.
Cheerleader: Don't be too early. I need time to do my hair.
Me: For a helmet?
Cheerleader: For ME, Cat Daddy.
Me:
Cheerleader: …
Cheerleader: Don't read into that.
Me: I am reading into that.
I leaned against the lockers. The slight buzz of the cheap fluorescents buzzed and Fox was now openly laughing, his hand over his face, and I was — I had to be honest with myself, I was giddy.
A woman I did not know had decided, after ninety-six hours of considered silence, that the first real thing she was going to say to me was to drag me to the locker room in the practice facility by my phone and make me defend basically all my life choices.
"She's got jokes," Fox said. "You're smiling."
I nodded and said, "She's fucking funny as shit."
Most women I talked to, dated, fucked were too busy either being impressed by my credentials, or were trying to impress me to be funny.
"You are dead, Kingman.” He slapped me on the shoulder in an I’m-happy-for-you kind of way. “You are dead."
"Definitely. And what a way to go."
I hadn’t had this much fun flirting in… ever. This anonymous thing was the way to go. Even if I did feel bad that I knew who she was, but she didn’t have a clue who I was.
I’d tell her eventually.
I would.
But not right now because Coach Roper sauntered into the locker room with a coffee in one hand and a cookie in the other. He didn’t look even a little bit surprised we were still here and not out on the field running those laps.
"Boys, I could use some insider insight. How are you all feeling about the front office," Coach asked.
Okay, I hadn’t seen that coming. Fox opened his mouth and Coach raised a hand without looking at him.
"Specifically Montgomery Whyte," Coach said.
Good old Monty. I could either blow some smoke and tow the company line or forge an actual relationship built on trust with our new coach. I knew which one my dad, a coaching legend, would want me to do.
"I think Monty is a misogynist douchepotato who is afraid of the new girls in the building and is going to make their lives extremely hard until he gets bored or fired."
Coach looked at me.
Fox looked at me.
“Hmm.” Coach nodded and pointed his cup at me. "That’s the kind of answer that deserves a cookie."
He took another bite of his and sat down. I could see the wheels practically turning in his head.
"Gabi is taking on a problem none of us asked for," Coach said.
"She didn't ask for it either. Her dad retired and flitted off to Switzerland and now she runs a football team, and the front office she inherited includes a Vice President of Football Operations who has spent twenty years rounding down every woman in his vicinity until she fits in a smaller space. "
Fox said, "Another cookie for you, Coach."
I said, "Yep."
"I'm telling you this because I'm watching Monty start to fold his arms about the new cheer program too," Coach said.
"And I'm watching the new cheer director walk into a conference room she had no idea was going to be a fight, and I'm watching her come out of that conference room with her chin up like nothing happened. And I am, and I hope you boys are too, on the side of Clover Freeman and Gabrielle Jackson. And I think they’re going to need to know we’re on their side. "
Shit. He thought Haunty Monty was going to make Clover’s life hard? Not on my fucking watch. Although, it’s not like I was going to be able to tell her. Because as far as she knew, I was just a guy on a bike with a cat.
Nothing to do with the Tigers.
Okay, play it cool for now. "You want us to keep eyes?”
"I want you to keep eyes out on our powerful ladies. We watch their backs. Got it?"
Fox folded his arms and nodded. The gears in his head were turning "That's it? We’re not going to do anything?"
"That's it for now. Don’t do anything yet. I am asking you to not be surprised when something starts."
“We're a hundred percent with you, Coach." Fox and I exchanged glances that said we’d be talking about this sitch later.
Coach looked at Fox. Coach looked at me. "Good men, the both of you. Now get into your gear and run those god-damn laps, you slackers."
"Got it, Coach," Fox said.
I gave him a little salute.
I ran those laps with one thing on my mind. How the hell was I going to protect Clover from Monty and also be Cheerleader’s Cat Daddy at the same time?
I was a real dumb ass.