Chapter 9 Silas #2
“That’s a fact, man. And two…” He hooked a thumb toward the main portion of the restaurant on the other side of our high partition.
“On your way out the door, I want you to walk slowly and read the room. You might say you don’t give a crap what anyone thinks and if so, good for you.
Maybe you don’t mind that half the population wants to fix you and the other half feels sorry for you.
And maybe they’re a tad jealous that you’re one degree of separation from the Trilogy Alpha Team leader. ”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I groaned.
“I know. The truth hurts, but you can do something with this. Hey, it’s March.
The draft is next month. That gives you some time to think about it.
So…think.” Ger nudged my menu playfully with his, then raised a hand to flag down our waiter.
“I’m starving. Fuck no carbs. I’m ordering the twice-baked potato. ”
I studied the menu as if I’d be tested on it. Choosing a starter, salad, or entrée was the only decision I was capable of at the moment. The rest…
Okay, fine…I was overwhelmed.
All I’d ever wanted was to play football. Everything else had been icing on the cake—the beautiful wife, the big house, a garage filled with sports cars. I’d never thought I’d find myself using football to strategically maneuver real life.
And yeah, later, I’d noticed the curious gazes on my way out of the restaurant. I felt like a caged animal being paraded through a crowd. Maybe some were football fans, but I didn’t think they necessarily admired me. It was as Ger said—they simply couldn’t get enough of the spectacle.
What was I going to do about it? Let them have me or use the situation to my advantage?
And line Ger’s pockets, too? Let’s face it, money was the main motivator here.
Ger was a savvy wheeler and dealer. He spotted dollar signs where no one else did and had a knack for finding silver linings. But this one felt a little seedy.
Needless to say, I was too distracted to check my messages until I was at the curb, waiting at the valet kiosk for my car.
Frosty’s hat choices were limited.
I smiled automatically. What he really needs is a top hat. Got one of those handy?
Cooper responded fifteen minutes later just as I pulled into my garage. Fresh out of top hats. Sorry.
I cut the engine and tried to think of a witty reply but came up empty.
Okay…not true. I wanted to tell him that his timing was perfect and that I’d been thinking about him nonstop for weeks. I wanted to ask if there was still snow on the ground and what he was doing up so late. It was after midnight there.
I settled on, Cut any trees lately?
Cringe.
Cooper’s eye roll emoji made me laugh. A California comedian. I liked you better in Vermont.
Fuck. Me too.
We traded texts while I changed into sweats, brushed my teeth, and headed downstairs to curl up on the sofa with my iPad.
Nothing earth-shattering. Cooper told me the snowman was long gone and the dusting they’d had two days ago just made the streets slushy and dirty.
He was tired of winter…couldn’t wait for spring and warmer weather.
I told him it was seventy-five degrees today and he told me to fuck off.
We left it there. No Good night or Hope all is well.
And that was okay. Almost better, actually, ’cause it felt like an open line, an outside connection that couldn’t have come at a better time.
I texted Cooper a couple of days later. I’d been jogging at the beach early one morning and it had been so damn pretty and quiet and I’d wanted to share it with someone.
Snapshots of the ocean at sunrise wasn’t my usual Instagram post. I was more of a “selfie at the gym” or a “random pic with a cute dog I spotted on a run” kind of guy. But it was perfect for Cooper.
Not to rub it in, but…
I grinned, imagining his faux-irate grimace. He didn’t disappoint.
A pic of dirty snow popped on my screen. That was it. No message.
My chuckle startled the woman in front of me in line at my local coffee shop. I ignored her curious double take and the flash of a camera as I approached the register. I wondered idly if Ger had leaked something about me signing a new contract and was stirring up the social media frenzy.
I’d avoided crowds for a few days—worked out in my home gym, made my own lattes and smoothies, and had groceries delivered, but I couldn’t hibernate forever. I craved human contact. Even if it was just a trip to the coffee shop.
So here I was at Java Lava, snickering like an idiot while someone looking for a boost in their algorithm took a photo of a has-been football player. It would be funnier if they knew I had a crush on the guy lighting up my cell with yellow snow.
The playful banter continued over the next few days. I’d send a pic of a cereal box or my running shoes, and Cooper would hit back with a close up of his lumberjack mug—(luhm-buh-jak) noun. Or a silly emoji.
Your emoji game is strong. Is that a dad thing? I finally asked.
Cooper sent three laughing emojis. Probably. My kids communicate in hearts, thumbs-up or down, and devil signs.
Do they give u shit for ur perfect text grammar?
Angry emoji. Maybe. But yours isn’t so bad either. That’s the first u and ur I’ve noticed.
Ahhhh. So you’ve noticed.
I notice everything. It’s a blessing and a curse.
I was aware that my smile was a smidge too wide, but I didn’t care. That little exchange made my day.
Seriously. Two or three lines from Cooper interspersed with a dozen emojis was proof of life.
Everything else felt contrived and reactionary.
I still hadn’t decided what to do about football.
On one hand, I loved the idea of getting a chance to go out big, but after giving the Devils ten years, it seemed traitorous to sign on with a cross-town rival.
On the other hand, the money was astronomical.
And Ger was angling for a signing bonus too.
“I know it’s a lot to think about, Si. We gotta make it completely worthwhile,” he assured me. “In the meantime, you’re a go for the sparkling water commersh. It’s gonna be great!”
Alli agreed.
“If you feel physically up to it, I think you should one thousand percent go for it,” she advised. “I’m serious, Si. Take the money, take the opportunity, and make it happen. I’m on your side, and you know it. And I’ll tell any overzealous reporter who comes for us that you have my support.”
My parents told me to go for it, too. Dad loved the perks, and Mom liked that I had a job.
Val was more pragmatic.
“You’ve got another year in you for sure,” Val commented, shaking a stuffed bunny in front of his drooling daughter on a play mat in his living room. “But the Rangers? I can’t even imagine you in that fugly uniform…hurts my head. But you gotta do you.”
His wife, Naomi, agreed. She was a dark-skinned beauty with long straight hair and almond-shaped eyes who’d traded a modeling career for graphic design and now did freelance work for some of the biggest athletic wear companies in the world.
“Lawrence is right,” she said, leaning against her husband’s arm. “Be happy. Take the money and ride the publicity train with Alli and Liam the hunk Sutcliffe, a.k.a., the most beautiful man in the world.”
“Hey!” Vally glowered.
“Just kidding, hon.” Naomi winked, and pointed at my phone buzzing away on the coffee table. “Your text buddy is looking for you, Si.”
Val raised his eyebrows. “Text buddy? Got something you want to share?”
I held up a hand to shield Gigi’s impressionable eyes and flipped my friend off.
And yes, it was Cooper and yes, it was another silly text.
And yes…my smile was way too big for my face.
This went on for another week or so. These text exchanges were a bright light in a string of ho-hum days spent working out, playing video games, and haggling with Ger over endorsements and the big contract he wanted me to sign, pronto.
I wasn’t sure why I was dragging my feet.
Seventy percent of me was sure I’d take the deal while the other thirty percent found the whole charade depressing.
The hunt and the thrill of the game had been replaced by greedy machinations and the knowledge that I was prolonging my fear of facing life after football.
I couldn’t imagine sitting on my ass like this for…years. I needed a reason to wake up in the morning, and football was the only thing I knew how to do well.
I jumped off the treadmill, wiping sweat from my brow as a new text from Cooper popped up.
Sorry for the late response. It’s been a rough day. I want that chimp’s ice cream.
Oh…yeah. He hadn’t commented on the hilarious gif I’d sent of a chimpanzee eating rocky road.
I think you’re out of luck. I sent two ice cream emojis and on a whim added, You okay?
We’d avoided any touchy-feely exchanges so far. We didn’t share emotional baggage or hint at the fact that we’d once seen each other naked. Our texts were goofy and lighthearted, and I already wished I could unsend that last line.
But Cooper replied almost immediately.
I’ve been better.
Oh.
I bit my bottom lip and tried to think of what to say. Want to… Erase. Want to talk about it? Erase.
Are the kids okay? That was safe. Send.
They’re fine. That was it. Three dancing dots and what felt like five minutes, then, How are you?
My fingers worked faster than my brain. Terrible.
Why? What’s wrong?
I’m in the middle of contract BS and it’s stressing me out, I typed.
More dancing dots. I grabbed a water bottle from the mini fridge in my home gym and moved through the labyrinth of rooms to the kitchen. I glanced at my cell, my pulse skyrocketing at the new message.
Can you talk?
I pushed Call first and nearly whimpered at the sound of his deep, husky voice.
“Silas.”
“Yeah, hey.” I gave an awkward laugh. “Have we ever talked on the phone? Feels weird.”
“Yeah. You SOS called me just before you turned into a popsicle. Ring any bells?”
“Ah, yes. One of my finest moments.”
He chuckled, and I swore I could feel the warmth of it through the cell connection. “It was, indeed.”
“So, what’s up? Did you have a rough day?”
Cooper hummed. “Just the usual. I’d rather hear about you. Are you signing a new contract?”
“I…maybe.” And I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather talk to about the decision that had been weighing on me for weeks.
So I did. I didn’t mention Alli or her very influential beau. I stuck to football. Did I choose a new city, stay in LA, or stay retired? And if I stayed retired, what was next?
“Huh. That’s a lot to think about,” Cooper said once I’d run out of steam.
“Geez, you sound kind of hot on the phone.” Okay, shut up, Anderson. It was true that I could’ve listened to him all day, but retaining some level of cool would have been nice.
“Thanks.” He laughed, low and sexy. “What does your gut tell you to do?”
“Play. I want to do it, but I don’t think LA is good for me. I need a new team, a new fan base, a change of scenery on the opposite end of the country.”
“Boston is a great town,” he commented.
“Closer to Wood Hollow. I liked that place.”
“And you saw it at its worst.”
True, but at that moment, the ice-laden branches, wicked wind, and snow up to my knees didn’t seem so terrible. I gazed out the window at the hillside and the blue skies above the city of angels and wished I could trade it for another stormy night in Vermont.
“I was thinking of hibernating there for a while,” I blurted, surprising the hell out of myself.
Truthfully, I hadn’t considered Wood Hollow to be a viable option till this very second, and now that the words were out of my mouth, I realized there was nothing I wanted more.
I held my breath and waited for Cooper to say something.
“Really?” He sounded as shocked as me, but not upset or wary.
“Would it be weird if I stayed next door?”
“Not at all. Come.”
And just like that, the weight of the world fell from my shoulders. I had a purpose and a place to go, and there was someone there who wanted to be with me.
I couldn’t wait.