4. Talon
Chapter 4
Talon
“What are your plans now that you’re back?” I blurt out the question as she places a spoonful of pralines-and-cream ice cream between her plump lips.
Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth, a bit of ice cream falling to the corner of her bottom lip. “I—sorry, what?”
She’s cute when she’s flustered. Using my thumb to swipe away the bit of ice cream, I repeat my question.
Leni clears her throat, glancing around uncertainly. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed her looking lost—anxious—and usually in response to general questions. “I met with the women who organize the debutante ball today.”
I tilt my head, waiting for more of an explanation. “The debutante ball?”
She flushes. “Yes. It’s an annual coming-out party for women of age.”
“Huh?” I mutter. “Like, some nineteenth-century shit?”
She snorts, rubbing the tip of her nose. “Kind of. But not.” She shakes her head. “I’m explaining this terribly. Historically speaking, yes, a debutante ball was when a woman of marrying age entered society and let suitors know she was ready for marriage. But today, it’s more focused on women’s empowerment, philanthropy for notable charities, and continuing traditions that foster community. Here in Knoxville, well, it’s Southern,” she tacks on, making me smirk.
“I figured.”
Leni chuckles and her shoulders drop an inch. It’s the most relaxed I’ve seen her, with pink dotting her cheeks and her cerulean eyes glowing. She looks beautiful. Breathtaking.
Off-fucking-limits.
I clear my throat. “So, you met with the women who organize it?”
“Yes,” she continues, nodding. “My mom arranged for me to join the organizing committee. Back in New York, I worked in event planning. Now that I’m home, trying to figure things out, Mom thought this would be a step in the right direction.”
“What do you think?” I wonder.
She bites the corner of her lip. “I was worried I’d fail at it,” she murmurs quietly. Honestly. It cuts me up how damn willing she is to make herself vulnerable and admit the truth. It’s something I’d never fucking do. “But I think it is a step forward. I need to do something, right?” She looks to me and for a second, it’s as if she’s seeking my confirmation.
“If this is what you want to do, then I’m sure you’ll make it a huge success,” I say easily. Truthfully. I don’t doubt that Leni takes her career seriously. Coach always said she was studious and disciplined. Seeing her swim laps, listening to her admit her fears, confirms that.
“I hope so,” she sighs, taking another bite of ice cream. “What about you? How are you feeling about preseason?”
The subject change to football is common ground. Not to mention, a safe topic.
As I tell her about training camp and we talk about the team, I note three things.
One, she’s easy to talk to. A hell of a lot easier than most women I’ve conversed with.
Two, she’s skittish. Unsure of herself, which is at odds with everything Coach has shared about her. But it’s clear she’s trying to find her way.
And three, I need to stay the hell away from Sunny Leni. Because the more she talks, the more I find myself falling into her deep blue eyes. Thinking about how silky her hair would feel against my fingertips. And wondering what her lips taste like.
It goes against everything I believe in—loyalty. The only thing I own is my name and I’ve committed that name to Coach Strauss and the Coyotes.
The last thing I need is to crush on Coach’s untouchable daughter.
“You wanted to see me, Coach?” I walk into Coach Strauss’s office after a grueling day at camp. My body aches, soreness wrapping around my quads and shooting all the way down my legs. And I’m famished.
But Callaway told me Coach wanted a word before I head out for the night, and while my initial response was confusion, I’m now concerned.
Did Leni tell him about running into me at the pool? Does he think our grabbing an ice cream is more than what it is? Is he going to warn me to stay away from his daughter?
This is why I don’t do this shit. There’s no time for distractions. Or confusion about where my loyalty lies. There’s the team and that’s it.
“Ah, Miller. Come on in.” Coach beckons to the chair in front of his desk.
I sink into it and nearly wince as my body aches from the movement.
“I know you’re probably eager to get home,” Coach starts. I don’t respond and the corner of his mouth twitches. He clasps his hands together and continues, “Leni mentioned seeing you at the pool the other night.”
“Yeah. Stevens wants me to work more pool time into my conditioning.”
“Right.” Coach sighs and leans back in his chair.
Shit. He’s pissed that I took Leni for an ice cream cone. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?
“Listen, I don’t feel right asking you this. But truthfully, I don’t know who else to ask. I guess Avery would do it but that could become its own fucking liability…” Coach mutters, partially to himself.
I frown, my body tensing. Are one of my teammates in trouble? Did something happen?
“My daughter’s not herself lately,” Coach says, staring right at me. His blue eyes are the same shade as Leni’s, but they hold a hardness, degrees of wisdom, that his daughter doesn’t yet possess. “The truth is, she hasn’t been herself for a while.” He blinks, looking exhausted. “Vicki and I are thrilled she’s home. She’s finding her footing, sorting out what comes next.”
He pauses and I dip my chin, encouraging him to continue.
What’s the ask?
“And she’s back with her best friend from childhood, Marlowe, who is like a third daughter to me.”
“Yeah,” I say, recalling a few stories that Coach shared.
“Marlowe’s boyfriend’s parents have a lake house outside of Knoxville and Marlowe celebrates her birthday there for a weekend every summer. Vicki and I aren’t too crazy about Leni going.” He snorts. “And fortunately, she was away the past couple years.”
I frown. “Coach, she’s an adult.” I point out the obvious. I mean, she’s gotta be twenty-three, twenty-four years old. Hardly a high schooler looking to drink underage and skinny-dip with boys.
Coach swears softly. “I know.” He looks at me miserably. “But there’s something about this group of kids, this weekend… I don’t trust it, Miller. One day, if you become a parent, you’ll get what I’m saying. Call it father’s intuition… but I don’t want Leni going to Norris Lake on her own, with a bunch of peers who haven’t seen her in years, except for Marlowe. And Marlowe’s got her own stuff going on…” He trails off.
I hunch forward in my chair.
“What are you asking me, Coach?”
“Christ.” He sighs again. “What am I asking you?” He raps his knuckles against the side of his desk. Then, he fixes me with a steely look. “Talon, I know it’s unconventional and the timing is fucked. But in a few weeks, between our second and third preseason games, you’ve got a day off.”
I nod, feeling my throat close as I know my day off is about to get axed.
“I would really appreciate it if you’d accompany Leni to Norris Lake that weekend.” Coach lays it out, his lips pressed together as if it cost him something to ask me that.
And hell, it probably did. He’s a proud man and not used to asking for favors.
But he’s probably one of the only men I’d do anything for, no questions asked. Not because I owe him—which I do—but because I admire him so damn much. The way he shows up for others is the type of man I want to become.
Hell, he’s the father figure I always wanted and never had—until I met him.
And now, he’s giving me a chance to do something for his family after he did a hell of a lot for mine.
“Hell—” he swears. “Forget?—”
“I’ll go,” I cut him off.
He freezes, watching me closely.
I lean forward in my chair. “Listen, I don’t know Leni well. Two conversations and everything else is what you told me. But I think she’s cool and if it puts your and Vicki’s minds at ease that I hit up some birthday party with her…” I shrug in my chair. “I’ll go.”
Relief washes over Coach’s face. “Thank you, Talon. I hate asking but?—”
“Don’t. I’m happy to do it. Really,” I assure him.
“Okay.” He nods. “They’re heading up the third Friday in August so if you can get a morning workout in, I’ll give you another day off.”
Two days off. My body nearly weeps at the thought of extra recovery time. “I’ll get the workout in.”
“I know you will,” Coach says.
“Um, does Leni know?” I ask.
Coach snorts before shaking his head. “No, not yet.”
“Is that going to be a problem?” I can’t imagine a woman being cool with her dad assigning her a chaperone for a weekend with her friends…but I don’t get most family bonds. I never had any that mattered. While a part of me thinks it’s ridiculous, a larger part thinks Coach’s concern is sweet. Caring. Loving.
“Probably,” Coach admits. “But I’ll handle Leni.”
I chuckle. “Maybe I can help.” I gesture toward his phone. “Give me Leni’s number. If you’re sending me away for a weekend with her, we should at least grab a burger and talk.”
Coach snaps his finger before pointing at me. “Great idea, Talon. Maybe tomorrow night? It can take some of the sting out when Vicki tells her you’re tagging along.”
I laugh. “Handling it, are you?”
Coach chuckles. “I’ll send you her number. Thanks for doing this; I really appreciate it. Hell, maybe a weekend at the lake will help her snap out of the fog she’s been in since she got home from New York. At this point, something’s gotta give.”
“Sure,” I agree, not really understanding what he’s talking about but knowing it doesn’t fully pertain to me. Coach is a stand-up guy and a hell of a coach. But as a parent, his girls have got him wrapped around their manicured fingers. “Anything else?”
“That’s it.”
I stand to go when he stops me.
“Miller?”
“Yeah?” I turn around, stalling by the door to his office.
“I appreciate this, and I know I can trust you.” His eyes harden and I work a swallow.
“Of course,” I manage to say.
“But don’t get any ideas. Leni doesn’t date football players.”
I dip my chin in understanding before I head out of his office.
And while I know it’s true—my teammates have said as much—it still stings knowing Coach includes me in that group. Because while I know Leni Strauss is lightyears out of my league, I hate that Coach knows it too.