Chapter Three
~HENDRIX~
Idrop down into a crouch, eyes locked on the ball. Mac, our striker, charges, her shot spot-on. But I dive, my fingers grazing the leather of the ball, redirecting it just enough so that it shoots wide of the post.
The whistle blows and Coach Watts, our head coach, barks what sounds like praise in my direction. I can barely hear him.
I get ready to reset but I can feel someone’s eyes on me. I glance up and down the sidelines, trying to figure out who might be eyeing me. I can feel the intensity of the stare.
Then I spot the source of my agitation. August is on the field.
Standing on the sidelines in tailored slacks and a team polo, talking to Coach Watts like he was one of the coaches. Like his presence on the field isn’t an intrusion. I push up from the turf, breathing in and out, my jaw tight.
Focus. He’s not here for you.
No one notices how many times I look in his direction. The way he affects me. I deflect it with anger constantly, because it’s the only weapon I have that hides the ache I feel when I look at him.
Coach gestures towards me, and August’s gaze flicks in my direction. Just for a second, but it feels like it lands a punch. I turn away, grabbing my water bottle and taking a long sip. My hands are shaking.
Fuck.
I look back over at him and see he’s laughing at something that Watts is saying. That laugh—low, familiar, the kind that used to unravel me in private. I roll my shoulders, reset my stance and wait for Coach Andie to call the next shot. Once she sees I’m ready, she does.
The ball comes hard and fast. I catch it clean but my fingers sting.
Good, I think. Let it sting. Let it remind me I’m still here with a job to do. I need to focus on this, not him.
I steal a glance back at him; he’s observing me. He doesn’t move in my direction. Doesn’t wave, just stands there watching.
I hate how much I feel it.
Coach Watts blows another whistle from where he stands beside August. “Alright, ladies, that is a wrap!”
I drop to my knees on the turf, sweat sticking to my spine, and gloves heavy on the turf.
My body is exhausted. But my mind is worse.
Coach Watts worked us hard today. There was so much running, so many foot skill drills, and a lot of offensive drills where I was in the net.
It’s all to get us ready for the final games before playoffs.
I peel off my gloves and stand, scanning the field.
He’s still here. Leaning against the fence, arms crossed, watching me like he has something to say.
Like he’s been waiting for me to finish up practice.
His gaze finding me more often, his looks holding a bit of longing, ever since we got trapped in the elevator together.
I trudge off the field, refusing to slow my step as I make my way past him.
“Hendrix,” he calls, his voice low but clear.
I keep on walking.
“Can we talk?”
I reach the benches where Cassie and Mac are packing up their gear. “You guys hungry?” I ask them, loud enough for my voice to carry. “I need fries. And maybe a pitcher of something cold and foamy.”
Cassie looks over and says, “Hell, yes. Practice has left me needing some serious food!”
Mac grins. “I’m going to splurge on some mozzarella sticks.”
I turn and glance back at August. He hasn’t moved. Still standing there, still waiting.
I give him nothing, not a nod, not a word when I walk away.
Cassie and Mac follow me into the locker room, where we get ready to head out for some much-needed lunch.
“Nothing too much, though, remember we have a game tomorrow,” Mac says, her voice full of caution. She’s right, we have a match tomorrow against the Washington Spirit, and we have to bring our A game. Bingeing on fried fatty foods and beer will not help us.
“Don’t worry, I plan on getting that salad that has the fries on top. Plus, I’ll only drink one beer,” I throw over my shoulder.
“Not trying to be a buzzkill, I just wanna make sure we’re all ready,” she replies, a bit of regret slipping into her tone.
“We know that, Mac, no worries,” Cassie chimes in.
“Let’s see if Amelia wants to go before we head out,” Macs adds.
“She’s probably in the training room. I can ask her on my way out,” Cassie replies.
I have never been so happy for the amber liquid that the waitress has placed in front of me.
I open up the Untappd app on my phone that allows you to check in with what beer you’re drinking at the bar.
It’s something fun that my brother and I started doing in college.
Ash lives in Philadelphia and it’s just another way we stay in contact and keep up with one another.
He’ll toast my beer, which is the app’s version of liking, and I do the same with his.
So, I check in so that he can see what I’m up to.
I do a quick scan of the app and see he hasn’t updated anything since last night.
I sigh and put my phone down. “Are we having those mozzarella sticks?” I ask Amelia, Mac and Cassie.
“We can certainly split them,” Mac says, nodding eagerly. Mozzarella sticks are her go-to appetizer. Every time we are on a cheat meal or ordering apps, she always gets them. And like today, she’ll only have one. But it’s enough for her, because as she’s said before, it’s better than none.
My phone dings and I look down at the notification.
August813 has toasted your check-in.
I roll my eyes. I forgot that he friended me on this app. In a moment of weakness, I accepted it.
“What’s wrong?” Mac asks. I swear that girl misses nothing.
“August toasted my check-in,” I say holding up my phone with Untappd on the screen, so that they all can see.
“You’re the one who accepted his friend request,” Cassie reminds me, grinning.
“Yeah, why did you do that?” Amelia asks, pushing a long strand of blonde hair off of her shoulder.
Amelia is still healing from her torn meniscus, so she didn’t practice today.
Looking unbothered from the Tampa Bay heat while the rest of us sit here with wet hair, ponytails and sweaty clothes while we recover from the hard practice.
I sigh again. “I don’t know. Moment of weakness, I guess.”
Cassie snickers. “Well, just so that’s the only moment of weakness you have.”
My head snaps in her direction. “What do you mean?”
Cassie steals a glance at Mac and Amelia before answering, “I just didn’t think you’d want to fall back into bed with August is all. Unless I’m missing something.” Her voice trails off at the end as she appraises me with her blue eyes.
“No,” I stammer out. “You’re not missing anything.”
“Did something happen with you two in that elevator?” Amelia asks.
I consider her question for a moment because it felt like something did. There has been a shift in the way he looks at me or even speaks to me lately. Was it that night in the elevator that did that? What kind of game is he playing with me?
“It was fine, we just talked,” I reply, knowing my vague answer won’t save me.
“And you didn’t kill each other?” Cassie asks, referring to every time we’ve been together where bitter words and insults always fall from my tongue.
“No, we didn’t kill each other.” I take a long sip from my beer, hoping that this ends the conversation. But I can feel them all staring at me. “I think he was just being nice because I could hear the elevator creaking and it was scaring me.”
Mac and Cassie nod, but it’s Amelia’s turn to study me like there is something on the tip of her tongue.
“It’s okay if you two are becoming friendly,” Amelia replies, reaching across the table and gripping my hand. “You can only hold onto anger for so long. Plus it’s not healthy to constantly belittle and berate the man. August is your boss after all.”
“And before that he was something else to me.” The words fall bitterly from my lips. “And what he did was unforgivable, which is why I’m so angry at him.”
I sigh and continue sipping my beer. My phone lights up with another notification from Untappd. I see it’s from Ash, so I open the app. He has posted a picture with his beer, and I can tell from the background that he’s in his living room. I grin, hitting the toast button on the screen.
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I click over to August’s page to see what he’s posted.
He’s at a steakhouse and his brother Drew is tagged.
Dining with their father, no doubt, I think bitterly.
Against my better judgment I toast his post as well.
A reflex left over from our time together, maybe, but we both do it.
Doesn’t matter who posts or even if we’re sitting mere inches from each other, I’ll toast his post and he’ll do the same to mine.
When I first joined the team, he made such a big deal out of it, making me wish I hadn’t done it.
So, I stopped for a while. But old habits die hard and then teasing became less frequent, so my likes became a normal occurrence.
“Hen, you okay?” I hear Cassie asking me from her seat beside me.
“Oh yeah, sorry. Just checking on Ash,” I say lamely.
“And logging your beer?” Mac chimes in.
“Yep, logging my beer,” I affirm.
“Danny’s started to do that too,” Mac tells me. “I guess you turned him on to that, huh?”
“No, I think it was August,” Cassie replies for me. “Jase has been doing it too and when I asked about it, he said August.”
“Yeah, he has the app too,” I say, immediately regretting how familiar it sounds.
All three pairs of eyes snap over to me.
“Was he the one that turned you onto this app?” Amelia asks, leaning in.
I nod, clearing my throat. “Yeah, in college it came out. A friend of his designed it or something. I’m not sure anymore but he started using it and asked me to as well. So, I did.”
“And you still use it,” Amelia remarks.
“Yeah, I still use it.” I shake my head. “I mean, my brother and some of my friends from college use it. It’s a nice way to keep in touch.”
Thankfully, our food arrives and the conversation about the app that somehow became about August dies. I busy myself getting my salad ready and the girls do the same thing.
Cassie is the first one to break the silence. “How is Dex’s new place coming together?”
Amelia nods while she finishes chewing. “It’s coming together nicely, actually. I’m guessing you’ve been noticing that I’m spending a lot of time over there.” She grins and shrugs. “It’s nice to be able to spend time with him, especially without August around.”
My head snaps over at Amelia. The motion is so quick that all their eyes are on me again.
“Are you good, Henny?” Mac asks, using one of the many nicknames that the girls have for me. Hearing her call me that reminds me of all the times August used to say it when he was feeling particularly romantic. I shake my head in an attempt to erase the memory.
“Yeah, I’m good. I was just going to ask what August’s deal was with all the hovering.” I shrug it off like it’s of no consequence to me. “I mean, wasn’t he busy with the harem of women who parade in and out of his bedroom.
Amelia shakes her head. “That was the weird part, actually. He didn’t have any guests while I was over there. At first I thought it was just his way of being respectful—”
I cut Amelia off, “Yeah, he’s not respectful of anyone but himself.”
She laughs and continues. “I don’t know, Hen.
I think there’s something going on there.
He was respectful and quiet the whole time we were there.
He gave us space most of the time, but you could tell he was lonely and just happy for the company.
I think he was sad to hear that Dex’s apartment was ready. ”
I sigh thinking back to the elevator. That would surely explain a few things.
“What are you saying, Hen? You just muttered something,” Mac says, studying me carefully. “Something about the elevator.”
Fuck, I said that out loud. “Nah, I’m fine,” I lie. But I can tell none of them are buying. All eyes remain on me. Cassie and Mac are two of the most perceptive women I’ve ever met. They know something is up.
“Maybe he’s looking to turn over a new leaf,” Amelia suggests. “You know, since he owns the team, maybe he thought it was time to grow up.”
“Oh please, the last thing that man will ever do is grow up.” I spit out the words before anyone else can agree with her.
I look around the table to see Amelia is shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
“Sorry, Amelia, I didn’t mean to snap at you.
You know we have history.” I sigh, thinking before I continue, “But I know that August and Dex are tight, so if you become friends with him too, that’s fine.
I’m not saying that no one can be friends with him even though he’s a spineless jerk who only cares about himself.
” My voice trails off and I shake my head. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Yep,” Mac says, reaching over and clasping my hand. “Sorry to have upset you.”
I look up at her and grin. “You didn’t. I do it to myself.”
The conversation shifts and I do my best to add to it. My mind is preoccupied thinking about what Amelia said, wondering if something is going on with August. That would explain the way he keeps looking at me and how nice he was to me in the elevator.
Later that night, I’m watching NWSL games on TV in my apartment.
While my friends are all off with their boyfriends, I’m in my pajamas, a bowl of cereal growing soggy in front of me.
The TV is playing highlights from other NWSL games.
My phone buzzes once on the end table, but I don’t look at it.
I don’t need to check and see who it is.
I know. I just can’t figure out why and that part is bothering me more than anything.
I let the screen light fade before reaching for the phone.
August: I saw you walk away today. I get it. You don’t want to talk to me.
Another message comes in.
August: You were electric out there today. You always were. I wish you didn’t hate me so much.
I stare at the messages, my thumb hovering over the screen. I lock the screen and turn the phone face down.
No, August, I’m not replying to you tonight.