Chapter 4 #2
“Hi,” I say, waving at her like an idiot.
“Hi,” she says timidly as she comes into the kitchen. She is wearing a long T-shirt that says Vasser, and a pair of legging shorts.
Amelia looks like a baby animal who is approaching me with extreme caution. It almost makes me chuckle, but she might scream at me some more, so I focus all of my energy into suppressing it.
“I’m cooking myself some dinner. Would you like some?
Chicken tacos,” I tell her, gesturing towards the pan of seasoned meat and the fixings of lettuce, cheese, guacamole and queso that are set on the counter.
“I have some hard shells warming in the oven. But if you’re more of a tortilla girl, I can make that happen to. ”
She chuckles and I watch her inhale the aroma of the kitchen. “I would really like that, actually.”
I let out a breath that I didn’t realize that I was holding. “Great, I’m really glad you agreed.”
“It smells amazing and honestly, I’m hungry, so I might as well,” she says in a tone that I want to say is teasing, but I don’t want to be too hopeful.
“Thank you. You can sit and I’ll have these plated up soon. Or you can do the toppings,” I offer awkwardly. I feel like we’re on a first date here, even though it’s far from it. I don’t know what to say to her and I’m afraid of making her angry again.
“I’ll make up my own; you don’t have to do that,” she begins, heading into the kitchen towards the food.
I take a step back, giving her a wide berth. “I feel like I should make up for earlier. I really am sorry. That’s not who I am.”
She nods. “I didn’t think so. Sorry, I’m still getting used to you being here. I need to remember to wear a robe or something.” I watch her cheeks flush a bit as she says the words.
She’s so cute. I want to walk over and pull her into a hug and tell her that I’m glad we’re putting this behind us.
But I don’t. I don’t do anything other than watch her get her tacos ready.
It makes me grin that she makes up three.
I prepare my own plate and head over to the table to join her. With me I bring two bottles of water.
“Oh, thank you, but I have a water in the door,” she says, gesturing back towards the fridge.
“I know, but this is flavored. Do you like kiwi strawberry?” I ask her.
She nods. “I think I might.” I smile again and watch as she takes a bite of her first taco. “These are amazing.”
My own grin widens. “I’m so glad to hear that you like them. Mexican food is one of the few things I can cook,” I tell her.
She grins, starting her second taco. We eat in silence for a bit. I listen to her moan and hum from her side of the table as she eats. Finally, she stops with one taco left and leans back in her chair to look at me.
“We have a game tomorrow.”
“I know. I’m going to be there. I talked to August earlier tonight and he was telling me about it. So, I’ll be on the field with Lucas tomorrow for the game.” I feel like I’m rambling, it all came out in a rush.
“It’ll be nice to have someone on the sidelines permanently,” she admits.
“Yeah, I heard that hasn’t been so consistent lately.”
“Try ever,” she says, picking up the bottle of water and drinking some of it. “I’m not sure about the deal that August and his brother worked out, but Lucas is only part-time for some reason and Cary barely ever showed up for us.”
I make a mental note to ask why Lucas is only part-time. “That sucks. I’m sure it was hard to put all the pieces of a team together so quickly, though.”
She nods. “You’re August’s boy, huh? Like, you two went to college together or something?”
It’s my turn to nod. “We did.”
Her eyes light up. “So, were you at school when he was with Hendrix? Or did you go to Brown with him?”
I smile. “I graduated from Brown with him. We met when he transferred in his sophomore year.” I see the hope die in her eyes. “I only ever heard about Hendrix when he was drunk and rambling. I’ve never seen them together.”
Her brown eyes widen. “He drunk-rambled about her?”
“He did,” I confirm.
“What did he say?” She leans in eagerly.
Oh, how I want to give her this. But I can’t. “Sorry, he’s my boy. I can’t spill that part.”
Her shoulders slump in defeat. “Well, you’ll get to see them interact now. She’s our keeper.”
I grin. “I know. I studied the roster when I got the job. I’m looking forward to seeing what that’s like.”
“Oh, it’s epic. Hendrix still has some pretty good anger pent up because of him. And for the most part, August allows her to take shots at him. Only stopping her every once in a while. I think I can count on one hand how many times she’s dissed him publicly and he didn’t let it slide.”
“Well, I gotta say, I’m not surprised. Sounds like August,” I admit. Clearly, she doesn’t know the man I do.
“Then why hire her?” she asks me.
“That was probably Maxwell,” I remind her of his father. “He probably doesn’t even remember Hendrix and even if he did, he would assume that August is long past it. To him, she was the most talented keeper and it’s a nonissue. Even if it does eat at August.”
She gets excited when I let that piece of information slide. “Shut up! You think it eats at him!”
“Why else would he let her get her digs in?” I lean back in my chair while drinking a large swallow of water.
“Huh, must be.” A satisfying smile crosses her face.
I feel like I gained some goodwill by spilling about August. But it’s not like I betrayed the man; just stated the obvious for her. Amelia digs back into her tacos.
We now eat in a comfortable silence before I say, “I’m trying to get the coaches to agree to doing assessments on all you players, not just the injured ones. Did Lucas or Cary ever do that for you?”
She watches me for a beat, considering the question, “I think so. But it would have been when we first got here, I think.” She shrugs it off, but I shake my head. “Why? Is that big deal?”
I sigh, “Well, yeah. How the fuck else would you know where a player is regarding pain, and flexibility.” I shake my head, and I notice she has the taco paused mid-bite.
There’s an expression on her face that I can’t quite read but it looks like it could be worry.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I can’t believe no one would do that, especially with this being a new group of athletes. Pro athletes at that.”
Amelia nods. “Well, you’re here now and hopefully they let you.” I don’t miss the warm smile that spreads across her lips when she finishes speaking.
I return the smile. “Yeah, I’m here now.”
A bit of determination settles into my chest. These girls might be a young, healthy, new, but someone needs to make sure they stay that way. That is where I’m going to come in. Our dinner ends and I move to clean up the kitchen.
“What can I help with?” she asks.
I turn at grin at her; I notice her fingers are fidgeting slightly while she waits for me to answer. “I’ve got this, you go get rest. You’ve got a game tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” she smiles sweetly at me. “And thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” I turn off all the lights and head down the hallway to the bathroom.
After a much-needed teeth-brushing, I stop momentarily outside of Amelia’s door.
I want to say good night, but I don’t want to seem presumptuous about our relationship, so I continue to my room and close the door.
I step out of my shorts and pull my T-shirt over my head before sliding into bed to appreciate the mattress I splurged on.
I lay back and place a hand behind my head.
My mind drifts back to seeing her fresh out of the shower.
The way the hot water made her skin look red and flushed.
Her wet hair pulled away from her face, showing those wide eyes and plump lips.
Don’t even get me started on that body. The curves, the softness. Perfection.