Chapter 16 Silas
SILAS
Contract signed.
One year in Boston for a mind-boggling sum of money.
Ger ordered Cristal and caviar to celebrate even though I hated champagne and got creeped out by the sight of those little black eggs.
I humored him. Let the guy live large. This was a win for him and probably for me too.
I didn’t need the money, but I definitely needed a purpose, and a second chance to end my career on my terms was ultimately too sweet an opportunity to pass up.
I was glad Alli thought so too. The story wouldn’t be officially released till tomorrow, but she’d happened to text me just as I’d arrived at HQ and it was the sort of news I’d have shared with her anyway.
I’m SO happy for u, Si! Gotta love that greedy agent of yours. Text me when you’re in LA. Let’s lunch, pookie. Mwah!
Ger peeked at my phone and gave a thumbs-up. “Ask her if we can use that.”
“Use what?” I thanked the waiter for the glass of Pinot, then dove for the bread and butter.
“That text. I’ll delete the greedy agent part, of course.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a private text between friends.”
Ger fixed me with a long-suffering look. “Your na?veté is almost cute. A congenial relationship with your now-more-famous-than-you ex is a good thing. Exploit it. But with permission. You don’t want to come across as an asshole.”
“That’s so…smarmy.”
“Oh! I like that word. I don’t even care if I resemble it.
” His sharkish grin was on point as he lifted his flute.
“This is all part of the publicity game, Silas. Play to win. No sitting on the bench hoping someone else says nice things about you. We make our own reality. So yes…let’s leak that text and let the Trilogy Alpha Team crew know you’re in with the cool crowd too. ”
“Really? ’Cause I should be more concerned about what Boston thinks than—”
Ger made an obnoxious buzzer noise. “Wrong. Boston is stoked to have you and the free publicity. Geez, if you can get Alli and Liam to come to a few games, you’ll be a hero.
You’re a moneymaker, and they know it. As long as you don’t do anything completely insane for a year, you’re their golden boy. ”
“What qualifies as insane?”
“Ugly drunken displays, drugs, orgies, excessive gambling, stripping in public, coming out as—oh, thanks.” He paused mid-speech as a server arrived with our meals.
Once we were alone again, he continued. “But you’re not insane, and you know the drill better than most. Play ball, have fun, and let me worry about managing everything else. ”
“Yeah…right.”
Ger lifted his flute in a toast. “To you and to Boston, and…to me.”
I snorted but tapped my glass to his anyway. “You’re a dick.”
“Maybe. But I know what I’m talking about. We can meet in LA next week and go over some of the advertising ops that have come in.”
“We’ll have to do it by phone. I won’t be there,” I replied, cutting into my filet mignon.
Ger frowned, his fork frozen above a mountain of vegetables. “Why not? Where are you going?”
“Back to Vermont. Val’s in-laws are visiting from Jamaica. We’re doing a house swap. He isn’t using his place in Wood Hollow, and I don’t need to be in LA. Win-win.”
He stared at me for a beat, slowly lowering his fork. “I don’t get it. I did some research and saw a few of the pics and videos on social media from last weekend, and uh…no offense, but Vermont looks boring as fuck.”
“It’s not boring at all. There’s a lot to do. The lake is beautiful, and it’s spring now, so you can take a boat out and probably jet ski…and stuff.”
A sly smile tilted a corner of his mouth. “And stuff. Got it. You met someone. I’m happy for you, man.”
“It’s…” I shook my head. “It’s not like that. It’s…”
Ger chuckled. “I hope it is. I hope it’s exactly like that. Things are turning around for you, Si. I like it.”
I nodded, tucking into my meal with a little less gusto than my agent.
Honestly, I was wingin’ it like crazy. First of all, I’d wildly exaggerated the house swap with Val.
The truth: I’d asked Val yesterday if he’d mind if I made Wood Hollow home base through July, and he’d immediately agreed…
and countered with a request for his in-laws to use my house for a week so he wouldn’t have to get them a hotel…
or worse, have them stay at their place.
It was a done deal yesterday, within hours of signing the contract with Boston.
The crazy thing was that I hadn’t told Cooper.
I figured I’d tell him in person tomorrow.
I needed to see his face to be sure he was okay with it.
He had a life that had nothing to do with me in Wood Hollow, and I wanted him to know I fully expected his kids to come first. I just… wanted whatever was left over.
And that had nothing to do with football or Alli or publicity of any kind. It was Cooper.
Only him.
But I didn’t want to make life unnecessarily complicated. So if Cooper voiced any hesitation, I’d go.
I wasn’t sure what to think of Ger’s assumption that I was seeing someone, though.
He wasn’t wrong, but I hadn’t denied or confessed.
I’d let it go…along with his unfinished coming-out warning.
Maybe he was going to say vegan, and not bi or gay or…
whatever, but it didn’t matter. I had no plans to come out.
I was perfectly happy in the closet.
See? Everything was fine.
The story broke the next morning. NFL veteran, Silas Anderson had officially opted out of retirement to sign a one-year multimillion-dollar contract with Boston.
There were thousands of photos of me wearing a brand-new ball cap, and a brief press conference in which I fielded softball questions like, “Are you excited to play for Boston?” or “What do you think the chances are that this team will make it to the Super Bowl?”
Answers: yes and good.
The tougher question was “Why’d you decide to keep playing?” with the implied “at your age.”
I said I loved the sport, thought I had another year in me, and I was grateful Boston felt the same.
A few more pics later, I bade Ger good-bye and got a ride to the airport. The drive from Burlington to Wood Hollow was the longest leg of my journey. I texted Cooper from the car rental agency, hopped into my new rental—a black Jeep this time—and headed south.
The long ribbon of highway stretched on forever with zero traffic, not something you’d see late afternoon in the concrete jungles of Los Angeles.
I followed the signs for the Four Forest exit, my pulse skittering with anticipation as the road narrowed and the trees soared like skyscrapers against the blue sky.
I passed Black Horse Inn on the outskirts of Elmwood, continued toward Lake Norman and took the steep incline leading to Wood Hollow, my heart ticking like a time bomb.
I scanned the hollowed-out trees and the sweeping views of placid water with wonder, and I didn’t even mind the gigantic truck loaded with timber crawling at a snail’s pace two cars in front of me. I was just happy to be back.
Happy to be someplace that felt like…home.
Cooper wasn’t home yet, so I showered, unpacked, and was considering my dinner options when headlights flashed through the blinds.
I raked my fingers through my damp hair and made a beeline through the trees. His truck was in the driveway, the garage door was down, and the house was dark. I glanced up the pathway between our houses and smiled.
Twilight had set in, shrouding the night in pale shades of indigo, but I would have known him anywhere. Cooper paused, a bag of groceries in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other.
“I was going to surprise you,” he said. “I brought kabobs for the grill, candles, and wine. It’s beautiful out, and I thought we could have dinner on the deck and celebrate your—”
I didn’t wait for the end of that sentence.
I hooked my hand around his neck and sealed my mouth over his.
It was mashed lips with a hum of desire, a trace of laughter, and more joy than I could contain.
I released him, plucked the wine from his hand, and stared for a long moment… just drinking in Cooper’s every detail.
His kind eyes, his sexy beard, and his curious expression. No doubt he wondered why I was tripping out. Play it cool, asshole. Play it cool.
“I missed you,” I blurted.
Oh, fuck. Not cool. Not cool at all.
Cooper grinned. “I missed you too. Welcome home.”
Home.
There was that word again. I liked it.
We barbecued the veggie and shrimp kabobs and sipped wine under the stars by candlelight, catching up as though our four days apart had been more like four months. I told him about my reception in Boston and the press conference.
“It was…nice. Great facility, talented coaching staff. I think they really want me there and not just because of Alli’s circus.”
“She’s supportive?” he asked, tossing me one of the wool blankets we’d found in a basket in the mudroom. Whoever had handled the interior design for Val’s place had thought of everything.
“Yeah, she is. And…I think she feels a little guilty.”
“Why?”
“ ’Cause she was the one who left,” I replied matter-of-factly. “She wanted out. She didn’t want to work on our issues, and I don’t blame her for not wanting to deal with my moody ass. I understood. I was injured and I wasn’t easy to be with. Trust me, I didn’t like being with me then, either.”
Cooper frowned. “You weren’t hurt or angry?”