Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
KEELEY
FOUR MONTHS LATER
It’s so dark in my room when my alarm goes off that I picture the birds telling me to shut the fuck up and go back to bed, making me smile as I open my eyes.
Four a.m.
It’s like the first day of school. Or in my case…preseason training camp is raring to begin.
I’m a night owl, always have been, so my early-morning workouts during the season are a killer.
When it’s the offseason, I walk on my lunch break, or head home early to exercise at night. That’s not possible when my workload ramps up. It’s the workaholic in me. But since I also value my fitness, my alarm is waking me before the sun.
I sleepily rub my eyes as I make my way to the bathroom, anticipating the warmth of my massage shower as I start to strip down. I don’t usually shower before a workout, however since I’m completely changing my routine, I’m allowing myself this little comfort before putting my body through hell.
With a yawn, I turn on the tap, holding my hand out to check the temperature, rolling my shoulders as I wait.
And nothing happens. At all. No warmth, no cold, no goddamn water.
Today of all days.
Turning the tap off, I stalk through the house and grab my phone, ignoring the time as I call our building manager, putting it on speaker so I can flick through my emails to make sure I haven’t missed a message about the outage.
I haven’t.
There’s nothing.
My call redirects to the after-hours line, and as the hold music plays, I run through what I’m going to say, getting more frustrated every time I hear the “your call is important to us” bullshit.
It’s eleven minutes before a husky voice comes on the line, and the second she speaks, I know I’m not the first person to call. Her own frustrations are dripping from her tone and all she said was hello. I wonder who else in my building is waking up at four a.m. Maybe we can work out together.
“Are you calling about the lack of hot water?”
“No, actually. I’m calling about the lack of water in general.”
There’s silence on the end of the line, though I swear I hear the faintest “fuck” coming from under her breath.
“Thank you for reporting it,” she says, her now robotic voice telling me she’s said that very line many times already. “We have someone looking into the issue. We will let you know when it’s resolved.”
“Thank you. May I suggest you email everyone in the building to let them know it’s out?”
“No one checks emails at four in the morning.”
“I did. It would have saved you this call.”
“Noted.”
“Thank you. Have a nice day.”
She scoffs as I hang up, and I run a hand down my face while I groan. I probably wouldn’t be having a good day in her shoes either. Though I bet she has water at her home, so I can’t give her too much sympathy.
Instead of heading to the gym in my building, I change plans, getting dressed and packing my outfit for the day before driving to work, mentally preparing myself to use the facilities there.
Something I have never done. I’d much prefer to uphold the illusion that I naturally look perfect every day.
No one needs to see me as the frazzled mess I become at the end of a workout, especially my mostly male work colleagues.
Let’s hope I’m the only one up this early. Otherwise they’re in for a treat.
After an uneventful and private workout, I managed to cool down and make myself presentable before anyone else had graced the office with their presence, and I’m grateful for that.
It’s nice to keep the mystery alive.
My morning is spent fielding calls from contacts of mine, trying to get the inside scoop on what I can tell them about our roster for the season ahead, and just like I do every other year, I give them the same response.
“It’s too soon to know. We’ll announce it to the world when we’re ready.”
They’re like broken records. Still, I admire them for trying.
I manage to catch the end of the first drills session, before Pierce calls time and I smile when I see my friends back in the action.
I’ve seen a few of the guys during the offseason, and while they’ve been here for organized team activities, namely Reed, Luke, and Zane—and Easton, obviously—this is different.
They are on and ready for the season ahead.
When we get back to the locker room, someone finger whistles to hush the room, and I naturally look around for Thomas.
That was his thing. Not the whistle specifically, but I could always rely on him if I needed to get the guys’ attention.
I miss him. It’s not going to be the same now that he’s retired.
My eyes lock on Luke’s, and his knowing smile has me stifling a laugh.
He misses him too. They may be brothers-in-law and still see each other regularly, but I’ll bet it’s not the same.
Other than a few years when Thomas played for Seattle, they’ve been teammates their whole lives.
I’m surprised that Luke’s playing for another season.
I always thought they’d retire at the same time.
The room finally falls quiet and I tap my clipboard, running down the list of names I need to see after they shower. “I need Rivers, Coombs, Jeffries, and Wilder in my?—”
“You mean your brother?” one of the rookies calls out and I roll my eyes. It’s day one of training camp, and we’ve already identified the new comedian.
Guess what, James? I, too, can be funny.
“I have a brother?” I fake a gasp and all but Easton and James laugh. “Yes, Easton is my brother. For those of you that find it so fascinating, let me tell you something that will blow your minds… We share a mother and a father too.”
Luke mimes his head exploding before shooting me a wink, and I shake my head. That’s exactly how he reacted when he first found out I was related to East, but that’s mainly because he considered us friends and thought that he knew me.
He was half right. We were friends. We are.
I didn’t tell him because Easton asked me to keep our connection quiet when I landed the job not too long after he was recruited.
He didn’t want anyone to think he’d helped me get the role.
I may complain about him often—especially since he never told me that was his reasoning until last year—but he’s a good guy at heart.
Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop driving him crazy.
“And before you ask,” I continue, smiling when I note the beginning of Easton’s scowl, “he is grumpy all the time. It’s no different around his family.”
Easton flips me off, and I take that as my cue to get the room back in order. If I don’t, he’s likely to cut me off, and I’d miss my nephew far too much for that.
“Anyway, back to my list. If I named you, I need you in my office after you’ve showered. Thank you.”
I jump down from the bench seat and stumble over an abandoned cleat, falling into strong arms.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” Beckett’s gaze softens in concern and I smile in response.
“I’m good, thank you, Beckett. We haven’t really had the chance to talk yet. How are you settling in?”
Beckett packed up his life in Colorado and moved here a couple of months ago so he could train with the team.
When I saw him coming out of Sal’s office on his first day, I almost hugged him for how grateful I was to have him here.
If he hadn’t taken a chance on us, I would have had to come clean about Vance, and I’m ninety percent sure my life would be completely different right now.
I’m not sure how it would look, but it wouldn’t be the same.
Beckett offers me a whisper of a smile, and I see the moment he switches over to professional mode, as though I’m interviewing him during the post-win celebrations. “I’m good. Great even. Thanks for asking.”
“And everyone’s treating you well?”
“Of course.”
“No issues?”
“None.”
He’s a man of few words, but I don’t think he’s lying. The team respects the hell out of him as a player, and it only took a day for him to prove himself as a good leader during some of the team workouts. Even if he mostly keeps to himself.
“I’ll leave you to it then. Thank you for saving me.”
“Any time, ma’am.”
Ma’am. If I was really a ma’am, I don’t think Sal would have an issue with the two of us sleeping together. But since I’m very much not a ma’am, I’m destined to continue on the path of self-love.
Yes, I’m still obsessing over this months later. What the hell is wrong with me?
I glance up in time to catch Sal across the room, the hint of a scowl marring his features as he watches Beckett walk away from me.
And that’s why I’m still obsessed. Talk about mixed fucking signals.
The sad part is that I can’t hate him for it because he means well.
He’s trying to do right by me. Or, at least, trying to do what he thinks is right for me.
He’s almost twenty years older than I am.
He has a daughter close to my age. A daughter who happens to be my future sister-in-law.
It’s a mess of epic proportions. But I don’t want to marry the guy. I just want him to service my needs.
I’m the girl that goes after what I want because I’ve learned that life can fuck you over when you least expect it. There’s no time like the present. And right now, Mr. Salvatore D’Angelo is the only man on my mind. It’s been that way for a long time.
And I’ve done nothing to try and change that.
My phone chimes with a text and when I read Hayley’s group chat message, I laugh. It’s as if she read my mind.
HAYLEY: I haven’t discussed this with Paige yet—don’t hate me—but I’m thinking it’s time for that girls’ night we keep talking about. We can celebrate her last few weeks of freedom. What do you say, Paige? Saturday night?
Paige refused a bachelorette party, but she mentioned at the time that she’d love to go out with her close friends, and Hayley’s finally taking action. I could use a night out.
PAIGE: Just the girls?
HAYLEY: Of course. Only those of us on this group chat
PAIGE: That sounds perfect. Let’s do it!
AMELIA: I’m in
BLAIR: Me too. Where are you thinking, Hayley?
HAYLEY: Nowhere yet. I’m open to ideas
HAYLEY: Keeley, what about you? You deserve some fun
AMELIA: Agreed
PAIGE: I second that
AMELIA: If you can
I smile at the support of my friends, support for both Paige and me.
They know work usually takes precedence over fun.
And they’d never push me. But it’s nice to know they haven’t ruled me out completely.
Because in this instance, I want to go. Hayley’s right; I deserve some fun—a night out—and more than that, I want one.
Another message comes through as I’m lost in my head, this one outside of the group chat.
PAIGE: Everything okay? How was day one?
I’m confused as to what warranted her message until I realize I never responded to the group chat.
KEELEY: I’m good. Today was good. I’m coming out with you all. I’ve just been busy. I’ll let the girls know
KEELEY: But if you don’t want this, I’m happy to try and shut it down
PAIGE: No way! You know I love spending time with you all. As long as it’s nothing like a bachelorette party, I’m ready to go
KEELEY: Great, I can’t wait
PAIGE: Love you
KEELEY: Love you too
Though I know her response is genuine, a twinge of guilt settles in my stomach. I’m usually the first person to talk about my problems. Only…how do I talk honestly to Paige when the problem is my infatuation with her dad?
Even more of a reason to move on.
KEELEY: I’m there!
I text the group chat.
KEELEY: And I know a place we can try