Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
~HENDRIX~
He’s called.
He’s texted.
And I haven’t responded to any of it.
I half-expect him to show up at my apartment in an attempt to see me.
But being that it’s team housing, there’s little chance he’ll actually show up.
He never has before. This seems to be the one place that August likes to ensure is clear of front house staff and coaches, where we can relax and be ourselves.
That night the Uber took me to his building, where I retrieved my car from the garage. Thankfully, I made it home and didn’t see any of my friends who had helped me get ready. I don’t think I could have handled that.
I laid low on Sunday, praying that no one was going to come and see me. I was grateful that no one did.
But now it’s Monday and I’m sitting in the Blaze locker room, wearing my goalie kit. It’s our game against the Orlando Pride. I’ll surely see August after the game. I saw his car was in the parking lot. I know he’ll do what he normally does and head from the office to the box.
I know that any talking we may do will be after the game. Although, I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. Because I keep analyzing everything that happened that night. The words that his father said, and what his reactions were to it. I thought he would say something to this father in defense of me.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he offered to take me home. I guess I should be happy that he volunteered to leave with me. And not just stay there, cowardly. But I expected more from him. I expected him to act like an adult and stand up to his father.
But he didn’t.
Sighing, I put my head in my hands. I can hear the other girls are arriving.
Getting here early to have some time to think things over in a different setting sure didn’t help.
But at least the only friends that I have here are already on the field.
Mac and Cassie are out there doing their normal pre-game ritual.
I’m sure what happened the other night will come up before the game.
Maybe talking about it would make me feel better.
I sigh, rising from the bench and grabbing my gloves and gear bag. Time to head out to the field.
I see Cassie and Mac stretching together in the center of the field. Once I put my bag on the bench, I decide to join them. As I reach them, I can see that both of them are smiling widely at me.
Crap, they want details. This isn’t going to be as fun as they think it will be.
“Hey! How are you guys doing? Ready for this game against the Pride?” I ask them, going for a different subject but knowing deep down that it is not going to work.
“Nope, not happening. No one wants to talk about the game. We want to know how the gala went with August. Did you have fun? Was there dancing?” Cassie asks, bouncing excitedly on her heels.
“Yeah, spare us no details,” Mac chimes in.
I shake my head. “Well, it was a lot of fun at first. The ballroom was pretty. The food was so good and so was the champagne. He found the sweetest ways to calm all the nerves that I was feeling about being there.” I swallow and just decide to dive right in.
“But we saw his father and of course that did not go well. He called me ‘the help.’”
My eyes look down at the Blaze logo that is sprayed onto the field. I can’t bear to look into their eyes right now.
“Oh, Hendrix,” Cassie immediately pulls me into a hug. “I’m so sorry that happened. What did August say?”
“Yeah, tell me that fucker stood up to his dad,” Mac says, placing a comforting hand on my arm.
I shake my head. “He really didn’t say much.
I decided that it was time for me to leave, and he said that he would drive me home.
So, I thanked them for such an enlightening evening, excused myself and called an Uber.
The Uber took me to August’s and I drove myself home,” I say, shrugging.
“I should have known that was not a good idea.”
“What did August do? Anything, nothing?” Mac asks.
“He said that he would drive me home. He wanted to. But I said that I wanted to take the Uber.” I shake my head. “It was rough. I hated myself for thinking that it would be fun and that we could actually be a normal couple at the event. Maxwell wasn’t going to let that happen.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie. You are not the help.” Mac pulls me into a side hug.
“Yeah, if anything, his dad is such a fucking prick,” Cassie chimes in. “I think that we should punch him in the balls… repeatedly. And then we can let you kick him in the balls. You can pretend like you are punting the ball.” She grins. “That should be fun and painful.”
I laugh, shaking my head. It feels good to laugh at something like this. It may seem dramatic, but I was pretty low after getting home from the gala and nothing really seemed to make me feel better. Maybe I should have called them sooner.
“It would be fun, but no, let’s not do that.
He has called me and texted me a lot. But I just haven’t responded.
I need time,” I admit. “I keep thinking about it and I’m not sure what I wanted him to say to his father.
Or how big of a scene that I wanted him to create, but I thought it would be better than just offering to give me a ride home. ”
“Yeah, I get that. You deserved better,” Mac agrees with me. “Are you going to be okay if we see him tonight at the bar or after the game?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. But seeing him is going to be inevitable. So, I might as well get it over with.”
“True, but you don’t have to go home with him or be alone with him if you don’t want to. Just say the words and we’ll stand by your side all night long,” Cassie promises me.
“Thank you, guys, I appreciate that. And, honestly, telling you all makes me feel better. It really does. I should have called you yesterday and told you. I was just processing and then wallowing. Talking about it was the last thing that I felt like doing,” I admit to them.
“I get that. But if you ever need us or just want us to sit quietly with you, we can do that,” Cassie says, hugging me. “Whatever you need, girl.”
“Yeah, Lord knows you’ve helped prop all of us up after stupid things happened with our guys,” Mac adds.
I nod. “Thanks again, I appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” Mac says, nodding. “Now we have to get our heads in the game for this match.”
I turn and see she’s staring in the direction of the Pride players, who are all taking the field for their own stretches.
“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get ready to play,” I say.
The three of us begin doing our stretches like we do before each and every game.
The rest of the team joins us. The conversation about August and I is over.
But I’m okay with that because I need to focus on something else and stop obsessing about those last ten minutes that I spent with him and his father.
I also need to get the look of pity that Drew shot at me out of my head.
And the terrible response that August had to it. I expected more. I expected better, but he’s still the same man who’s afraid of standing up to his father.
“Come on, Hendrix! Time to warm up with me,” Jase calls to me from the sidelines. Before the other goalies can join us, he asks me lowly, “How are things, Hendrix? I saw August this morning and he looked like shit. Care to share anything?”
I shake my head. “His father still doesn’t like me, and he’s still not willing to stand up for us. So, we’re sort of at an impasse.”
I look around and am relieved to see that the other goalies are on their way, so I don’t have much longer to have this conversation with him.
“He said you’re not talking to him. He can’t fix it if you don’t talk to him,” he reminds me.
“Yeah, I know that. But the time to fix it would have been at the gala in front of his father and brother,” I point out.
He sighs heavily. “It might have been, but I’ve been there when his father treats him like a little boy. There’s not too much that he can do. And publicly, that might not have gone well. I’m just asking for you to cut him some slack.”
I nod. “Noted. Can we warm me up now?”
“Hendrix, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to come across as all pro-August, but I’ve never seen him like this over a girl before.”
I nod. “Thanks for letting me know.”
He nods in return. “Are you going to be okay to play in today’s game?”
“Yeah, the distraction will be great for me,” I say, shrugging. “And I get it. You’re just sticking up for August. I know you have my back too.”
Jase pats me on the shoulder. “I do. I’m sorry that I came across as not.”
“It’s okay, I get it. Bros before the help,” I say snidely.
“You are not the help,” he says quickly. “And I can’t believe that prick called you that. I could punch him in the mouth the next time I see him.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. That will earn you one trip back across the pond and one of my best friends will forever be enraged,” I warn him.
He shakes his head, laughing. “I wouldn’t leave her.”
I nod because I know he’s right. He’s a good man that way.
Technically, August is a good man too because he hasn’t left me.
He’s reaching out and trying; I just don’t want to hear it.
I just wish that I wouldn’t have had to stick up for myself.
I wish he would have done it for me. But, alas, that’s not what happened.
“Okay, focus time!” Jase says, clapping his hands together, signaling the start of our warm-up session.
It’s honestly just what I needed. Time to punt some balls down the field as hard as I can. Time to throw myself in front of a ball that has been rocketed at the goal. That will help me get all of this off my mind.
Soccer, I can handle.
Diving in front of a goal and saving a rocket that was shot at me, I can handle.
Feelings and emotions are something that I don’t enjoy dealing with. I like to keep things less complicated and more black and white. That makes situations like this completely and totally avoidable. And my head so much clearer and game day ready than it is right now.
“You can do this, Hendrix. Just relax and focus on the game,” Jase says quietly to me as we make our way to the sideline. It’s almost time for the game.
Coach Watts will soon be giving us our pep talk. The walk-up music will play, and we will enter the stadium to the roar of the crowd. Attendance will be up since the game is sort of local for the Orlando Pride. The anthem will play and I will defend the goal for ninety minutes.
It’ll be a beautiful ninety minutes because I won’t have to think about August and wonder if he’s going to be coming to see me in the locker room. Or if I’ll see him at the bar later.
I can focus and take my mind off of that prick. How much I hate the way he acted, but also how happy I was that he invited me. It’s a paradox of emotions, and I have to decide what I would like to do about him—avoid him forever or have the adult conversation and see where we go from here.
Fuck, matters of the heart are super complicated.
Playing soccer seems like a walk in the park compared to this bullshit. Especially when you chose to love August Cromwell and deal with this ridiculously controlling family. What a mistake that seems to have been.