Chapter 8 #2
That was a very good question, one that I’d shoved down uninspected and unanswered.
I decided Hunter was a smart man and would know this was a setup.
He knew I was planning something to divert gossip from him, so he would play along.
Maybe I should call him. Looking at the clock on the wall—the kind they have in schoolrooms, the kind that looked like it would ring to let me know work was out—I saw that it was impossible.
He wouldn’t have his watch with him on the field and I didn’t want to have that conversation with him in the locker room where someone might overhear.
To Jason, I said, “That won’t be a problem. He knows I have a plan. He’ll be good with whatever I do to make sure there’s no gossip about something going on between me and him.”
Jason raised both brows. “Is there something going on?”
Damn fool—I’d said too much. “No, of course not. But since I’m his handler, helping him out with getting settled in, setting him up with photo ops and whatnot to repair his reputation, he was worried some people might get the wrong impression about us. I told him I’d take care of it.”
It was all true. It was not the whole truth, but this wasn’t a courtroom, so I was okay with that.
“Got it.”
Jason had his shades nestled in his shiny brown waves of hair.
His bright blue eyes were fringed with impossibly long lashes.
He was the very definition of a pretty boy, and with his improved physique, he’d turn the heads of 99% of women—if the other 1% were dead.
In short, if a guy had even a molecule of self-doubt, Jason would make them feel threatened in the lady-killer department.
Unless they knew he was gay. But he had as many straight guy friends as he did gay friends and women friends.
“For our background, let’s keep it simple. We met in college, but didn’t date there. We reconnected a month ago and started seeing each other then. What do we say you do for a living if someone asks?”
“We say I’m an actor and model.”
“You sure? No one will get suspicious?”
“Have faith in my acting ability. I’ll be the best, most attentive boyfriend you ever had. And that’s the truth since I’ve met some of the guys you’ve dated.”
I laughed, properly reassured. “Let’s go down and watch the end of practice.”
“Hot damn. I love this gig already.”
I brought him down through the interior elevator and we walked through the tunnel to the field.
No one gave us notice and I figured this was a good thing.
We went through a gate I had the keys to and took some seats in the front row behind the team’s bench.
They were walking through the red-zone drills like they always did on Fridays before a Sunday game.
The season was only six weeks in, but I already had the drill down pat.
“So do you think you can do it, Cat?”
I didn’t pretend not to know what Jason referred to. His serious tone clued me he was talking about the task of rehabbing Hunter’s reputation.
“I know I can. What do you think?”
He grinned. “Hunter is okay with me. I’m a rebel at heart, you know. Punching a coach is the same as striking out at The Man. As far as I can tell, he’s a decent guy, so if he hit the coach, the coach probably had it coming.”
“I wish all the fans were like you.”
“Impossible. I’m special.”
She laughed and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “If only, Jason. If only.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “I know, I know. If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a hundred times. But hearing it from you, Cat, well that really brings it home.”
A blast from an air horn made me jump. Practice was over and we watched the team file from the field.
More than one of the men glanced up at me and Jason.
Luckily, my father was focused as always on his tablet, his assistant coaches and players, and never bothered looking their way.
I held my breath when my eyes met Hunter’s.
He paused a beat, flicking his eyes from me to Jason.
I nodded at him and tried telepathically letting him know that this was my plan.
He trotted away without acknowledgment of any kind and my heart started beating and I started breathing again.
“Intense,” Jason said.
“You don’t know the half of it.” I spoke half under my breath, but Jason stood and helped me from my seat, ushering me from the row and back down the stairs, an arm around me casually, but proprietarily.
He gave me a smile filled with charm and warmth.
The show had begun. We sashayed past the press.
None of them, even the ones I knew, paid any attention to me, choosing instead to waylay some players, including Gabriel Wyatt.
Jason leaned in and whispered, “Is that the Gabriel Wyatt? Will you catch me if I faint?”
I laughed. “Yes and no. I’ll fire you from your role if you faint.”
We walked into the tunnel, joining some family and friends and press, some players loitering outside the locker room.
Most of the people had become familiar to me and they nodded, aiming curious glances at Jason, but no one dared ask.
I was the coach’s daughter and I was none of their business, according to Coach Marini.
Right now, I appreciated that isolation.
“I’m kind of excited to meet Quintanna,” Jason whispered in my ear. “To get a close look at all these specimens. How do you do it, Cat? Remain so calm in the presence of—”
I laughed, knowing full well it looked like we were having an intimate conversation. “We’re only dating casually. Don’t overdo it.”
“Got it.” He backed off, still smiling, and talked at length about the game on Sunday and where they’d be sitting.
“Center field, third row. Only the best seats. You can sit with me this Sunday because Penny is sitting with my aunt and uncle in the alternate seats on the other side of the stadium, behind the visiting team this time. I’m not so sure about future games.”
“One game is all I need.” He kept his voice low, knowing we didn’t want to be overheard among the crowd milling around us in conversational knots.
He stood touching, but not holding me, perfectly casual, but together.
My heart bobbed dangerously close to my throat as my nerves rose with each second.
Waiting was killer. It felt like I was facing the mother of all final exams.
My mind raced through the plans I’d set in motion between now and game day until it ran into dinner.
I’d forgotten about dinner after the game.
With Dad. No way did I want Jason there.
“Look, we—I mean me, my Dad, and some family are going to dinner after the game, so I’ll need you to disappear before they arrive. ”
“I’ll leave before the end of the game unless it’s a buzzer-beater.”
“Perfect. I’m sorry I can’t invite you.”
He laughed and bent to my ear. “No need to apologize as if I was really your date.” I felt the heat rise. I’d been so lost in the moment I was believing my own story.
“You’re right. I’m such a girl sometimes.”
He gave me a look and said, “That’s part of your charm, Cat. Don’t ever change.” He gave me a hug, the hug of a good friend who appreciates you, silliness and all.
That’s how we were when Hunter emerged from the locker room.
Rushing my words, I spoke into Jason’s ear, “Hunter and I are going in my car—you’ll come with us, but I’ll have to let you out somewhere.
You can’t go with us. I don’t want to push Hunter too far.
” I separated from Jason as Hunter walked our way, sidestepping through the knots of people clogging the tunnel, ignoring random questions from the media.
I still didn’t trust him on his own to not stop somewhere, engage the wrong person in conversation, and get into trouble because of his fierce pride.
I knew the fans weren’t close to being on board with him and definitely not the media, most of them accepting him while self-righteously holding their noses. They all loved to hate a villain and they’d chosen Hunter. It was so unfair it made my soul weep.
Gabe came out of the locker room and sliced through the crowd to catch up with Hunter as he approached me and Jason. Gabe wore a big smile and Hunter wore an almost scowl, as if he were trying to tame his face into neutral but couldn’t quite manage it.
“Hello, Catalina,” Gabe said as his attention pinged between me and Jason and in particular on the casual hand Jason held at my back.
“Who do we have here? Introduce us to your friend.” He spoke as if he were a relative or someone with a right to know.
Or someone out to cause trouble, incite the burn he suspected between me and Hunter.
It seemed he’d taken his role as Hunter’s champion to heart.
I darted a glance at Hunter to see that he’d gotten his scowl under control and was in full Mr.-Cool-Nothing-Fazes-Me mode.
“We have here my friend Jason. He and I are dating—but don’t tell Coach.” I gave a saucy smile.
Jason and Gabe exchanged nods and when Jason reached his hand out to shake Gabe’s, Gabe went along.
Jason turned to Hunter and put out his hand. There was a beat that seemed to go on forever before Hunter reached to shake with Jason. He nodded, but said nothing and didn’t change his expression. Not until he focused on me.
“I thought we were turning in my rental car.” Caged hostility as if he were a hungry lion bled from him, almost made me shiver and would have if I hadn’t steeled myself for it.
“You are,” Jason said, smiling and under control.
“I only came for a quick visit and wanted to meet two of my favorite Boston Militia players.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze, probably more to shore me up than for show.
I wanted to kiss him for real right then, to thank him, but it would have to wait—for never.
I knew Jason would draw the line well before a kiss happened.
“Mission accomplished,” Gabe said. He folded his arms and stood watching as if he were waiting for a show.
“That’s my cue to leave,” Jason said. Turning to me, he said, “I’ll talk to you later.
” Then he surprised me when he bent forward and kissed me on the mouth, a cool, calm kiss, not too short, not too long, perfectly executed as if he’d been practicing the role of casual date forever.
My face flamed, not from his kiss, but knowing that Hunter and Gabe watched the spectacle.
I was less prepared for this perfect gossip-killing ruse than I’d expected.
Jason walked off and a lot of other people had left the tunnel as well, leaving the three of us relatively isolated in the surrounding quiet.
“Are you ready?” I said to Hunter.
“So how’s this going to work?” Gabe asked. “You’re going to drop off the rental and then take a cab back here?”
“No—I don’t know,” I said. Why had I let Jason leave? My plan had to change.
“Why don’t you follow us?” Hunter said. “Give me a ride back to the house.”
“Sure,” Gabe said, more than a little amused so that I wanted to smack him. He added, “Guess Cat here got sidetracked by her new man Jason.”
I punched his arm. “Not exactly. I would have followed Hunter in my car and dropped him off at your house.”
“That sounds more like it,” Gabe said.
Hunter gave his new friend a stabbing look.
“Good. We’ll be back in about an hour,” I said.
I took Hunter by the arm and led him away then, before things got any more messed up.
I could kill Jason for leaving. I still didn’t trust Hunter to drive to the car rental place at the airport by himself, but I knew that was ridiculous.
He wasn’t a child or a criminal. He was . . . very deep under my skin.
Before we got out of the tunnel into the parking area, he’d retracted his arm from my grip.
Even through his leather jacket I’d become aware of his tightened muscles and knew I was overstepping, but as far as he knew, I was dating someone now.
Or maybe, as I’d assumed he would, he knew it had been an act since I’d told him I planned something.
He didn’t speak until we got to my car.
“I’ll follow you.” I stood at the door and he stared down at me, shaking his head, his frown unreadable. All I knew was that he was unhappy with me. Or with the world. “Where’s your car?”
He nodded in the direction of the nondescript gray Chevy a few cars over.
“We need to talk,” he said. And walked away.
Taking a deep steadying breath, I wondered when the hell I would stop being so affected by his presence.
The memory of phone sex, of listening to him in the throes of passion, didn’t help.
I did my best to prepare to spend time alone with him in the car on the way back, to lecture myself and will myself to keep my hands and everything else off him.
But I wanted so much to console him, to make him forget every problem he had in the world, I didn’t know if keeping my distance was an option.