Chapter 7 Scarlett #2
This is news to me. “Really? In what context?”
He scratches his head, avoiding his teammates who are openly smirking now. “When we discussed the coffee shop.” He nods stiffly. “Yeah, we talked about the coffee shop all the time.”
“You never bring up the coffee shop,” Tate says matter-of-factly.
Brendan’s lips tighten. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned it to someone.”
“Never heard you bring it up.” Leo shrugs. “Sorry, man.”
Brendan frowns, appearing genuinely irritated now. “I’m sure it’s come up at some point.”
“Well, the only thing that’s come up lately is Jaxon,” Rourke dishes out. “He definitely didn’t trust Jax around you. Or any of the single guys on the team.”
Brendan’s brow furrows. “You know what? I need to talk to the other coaches before we board. Excuse me.”
He storms off toward Coach Jenkins, leaving me standing with his grinning teammates.
I turn to Leo. “Is Victoria coming this weekend?”
“Not this time. She’s helping my mom move apartments this weekend.”
“And Jaz is home with a sick baby,” Brax adds. “She sent me a picture of Rosie.” He holds up his phone, showing a baby girl passed out on Jaz’s shoulder.
“Aw, poor girl.”
“Most of the WAGs stayed home, except you and Lauren,” Tate adds.
“Oh.” I try to hide my disappointment. Without the other wives and girlfriends here, I’m stuck hanging out with Lauren or Gabriella, who still hasn’t shown up yet.
Brendan already made it clear he doesn’t want me disrupting his work routine, which means I’m going to have a lot of time on my hands this weekend.
The only reason I’m here now is because he needs a fake girlfriend and I need a vendor contract. That’s the whole equation.
Which means I should probably figure out how to act like I know what I’m doing.
Because I have absolutely no idea how a coach’s girlfriend is supposed to behave in public.
Should I be the crazy fan screaming during the game or sitting quietly in the background?
Will Brendan want to spend time together after the game, or does he prefer hanging out with the team?
I want to ask Brendan, but someone yells that it’s time to board the bus, which means I’m flying completely blind. Maybe I can corner Lauren and get a crash course in hockey-girlfriend etiquette.
I try to catch up with her as we pile onto the bus, but she and Tate immediately link hands and take seats in the back. The bus fills with players who apparently all have a favorite seat, leaving few open spots.
Gabriella boards the bus at the last minute and slides next to Miles, clearly jazzed that she gets to talk to the goalie. Never mind that she’s his athletic trainer, and I specifically told her this was a terrible idea.
She waves across the bus to me, then gives all her attention to Miles.
Feeling completely out of my league, I stand in the aisle, looking for any available seat. And that’s when I see one right in the front: an open seat next to Brendan.
“Mind if I sit here?” I don’t want to assume anything after he told me he needs to focus on his job this weekend.
“Okay,” he says, then hesitates, “though I’ll probably be working most of the trip.”
“No problem. I have an audiobook that will last me the entire trip.” I try to sound breezy instead of deflated.
I’d questioned whether I should have driven myself, but this is the cheapest weekend getaway I can afford. Free transportation and lodging means I can actually take a break without it costing me a thing.
Which makes it more disappointing that the other girlfriends aren’t here, since Brendan’s clearly distracted by his work. Even Gabriella and Lauren will be busy since they work for the Crushers too.
Jaxon boards last and immediately spots me. “Hey, Scarlett!” he says with a grin before noticing Brendan’s icy glare. His smile drops so fast, it’s almost funny. “Oh, hey, Brendan. Didn’t see you there.”
Brendan’s jaw clenches. “That’s Coach Marco to you, Jaxon.”
“Right, Coach.” He looks nervously between us. “Good to see you both.”
“You too,” I call over my shoulder as he practically sprints to the back of the bus, putting as much distance as possible between himself and Brendan.
I lean toward Brendan. “You know, you don’t have to be so harsh with him. He was just saying hi.”
He doesn’t glance up from his tablet. “I wasn’t harsh. That’s my standard coaching demeanor with all the players.”
“That’s your normal coaching voice?” I stare at him. “Wow. I’m amazed they even talk to you voluntarily.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He looks directly at me. “They understand it’s not personal.”
“I get that you’re a coach, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a jerk. You were their friend before you were Coach Marco.”
He shakes his head. “But this is how it is now. The other coaches expect it.”
“Do you ever just hang out with them?” I suggest, lifting a shoulder. “For fun?”
“No.” He hesitates, looking back at a spreadsheet on his iPad. “Not since I got promoted to assistant coach.”
“Maybe you should try it sometime. I think that’s why they tease you so much. They’re trying to get that stone face to crack a smile.”
“I am not stone-faced,” he argues.
I hold up my phone and snap a picture before he can school his face. “You want to argue against my evidence?” I turn the phone around as proof.
He stares at the picture, then returns to his tablet. “Okay, never mind.”
I pop in my earbuds and turn on the audiobook I started last week, hoping to drown out the conversations around me.
Yeah, he’s a good coach. He could even be a great coach someday.
As the bus pulls away from the arena and Brendan hovers over his spreadsheets, I close my eyes.
I’ve been burning the candle at both ends for months.
I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was until the gentle motion of the bus lulls me to sleep.
The last thing I’m aware of before I drift off completely is Brendan shifting slightly.
Not away from me, but closer, like he’s making sure I won’t wake up with a crook in my neck.
I must be dreaming already.
It’s not until I hear the book’s epilogue finishing that I realize how long I’ve been asleep.
And that’s when I notice something warm and solid against my cheek.
My eyes flutter open and a tiny gasp escapes my lips. I’m leaning against Brendan’s shoulder. His defined, but surprisingly comfortable shoulder that only makes me want to snuggle against him more.
For a moment, I don’t move, trying to figure out how I got here. I guess I used him as a pillow, and instead of pushing me off, he let me stay here, curled into him.
I stir, slightly pulling away. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay.” His voice is soft. “You were exhausted. I didn’t want to wake you up if you needed the sleep.”
I sit up and immediately miss the warmth of his shoulder. “How long was I out?”
“Over three hours.”
“Three hours?” I look around, disoriented. I haven’t taken a nap that long in forever.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. There’s a softness in his expression that makes my heart skip a beat.
And then, like someone flipped a switch, it’s gone, replaced with spreadsheets and Coach Marco’s stone face.
“So, did I miss anything?” I ask, pretending I don’t notice the change.
“Only Rourke telling inappropriate stories about his dating life before Janie.”
“Sounds like a fun time.” I smooth my hands over my hair, trying to fix whatever damage the nap caused. “I can’t believe I fell asleep on you. I’m so…” My gaze lands on his sleeve where I was sleeping.
“What is that?” I point at a wet stain that looks like drool and a lip gloss smudge. “Did I do that to you?”
Brendan’s mouth quirks. “Do you want the truth?”
“So let me get this straight. I fell asleep on you, drooled on you, and wiped my lip gloss on your sleeve?”
“It’s really not a big deal, Scarlett.”
“Yes, it is!” I try to rub it off, but it does absolutely nothing to help me stop noticing his very nice bicep. “You’re a coach. There are standards. And these standards do not involve me salivating on your arm.” I throw my hands in the air. “It’s just getting worse.”
“Scarlett.” His voice is calm. “It’s fine.”
“I’m pretty sure drooling on you is not appropriate girlfriend behavior.”
“Probably not,” he agrees, but his smile tells me he’s not offended by it the way I am. “Though I have to admit, it was the quietest you’ve been all day.”
“Hey!” I protest with a laugh.
For a moment, the embarrassment I felt disappears, and I catch a glimpse of the Brendan I remember from our high school summers together. Our eyes meet, and for a split second, he doesn’t say anything.
Then he straightens in his seat. “We should be there soon. The hotel’s right across from the arena, so you won’t have far to walk.”
“Great. I want to get over there early tomorrow and see their vendor operations before the crowd arrives.”
He nods. “Smart.”
The bus slows down, and the Charlotte skyline fills the windows. Players are stirring, gathering their belongings.
“So, what’s the plan tonight?” I drop my earbuds in my bag, trying to forget how nice his shoulder felt. “Do coaches eat with the team, or do you have separate plans?”
“Usually, we have a team dinner, then early bedtime. Game preparation starts first thing tomorrow.”
Right. No time to hang out. I hadn’t realized how much I was looking forward to spending time with Brendan until I realized we wouldn’t be.
“So, I’ll just figure out my own dinner plans, then.” I try not to sound disappointed because I shouldn’t be. It’s better for me to let him coach.
He looks like he wants to say something, then looks away. “The hotel restaurant is supposed to be good. Or there’s always room service.”
“Solo dining at its finest,” I add with forced enthusiasm.
The bus pulls up to the hotel, and players file off with their equipment bags and luggage.
“Thanks for letting me use you as a pillow.” I hoist the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “I promise to maintain appropriate personal-space boundaries from here on out.” I move toward the bus door.
“Scarlett.”
“Yeah?”
For a moment, he looks like he’s going to say something. But then his jaw clenches and his expression closes off.
He does that a lot. Like there’s highly classified information he’s decided nobody gets access to.
I just don’t know why he’d look at me that way.
“See you at the game.”