CHAPTER 33 Everleigh Bradley
Close the Door
It’s back to business on Wednesday. It’s so weird how life just goes on.
One minute his mom was here on this earth, breathing and laughing and living, and the next, she was gone. But the world keeps turning. He has a game to play, and he’s called bright and early on Wednesday into the quarterbacks coach’s office—along with me, whom the coach requested to see as well.
We arrive together, and Maverick knocks lightly on the doorframe.
“Come on in,” Coach Richards says. “And close the door.”
Maverick’s eyes meet mine, and his brow is a little furrowed as he closes the door. We each take a seat in the chairs opposite the coach’s desk.
“I’m sorry to be so blunt, in particular after the funeral you attended together yesterday.
My condolences, by the way.” He pauses, and then he says, “I got a message this morning telling me that the relationship between the two of you may have crossed over a line. Is there something I should be concerned about?” he asks.
We exchange a glance, and in doing so, it’s basically an admission.
My chest tightens as I feel the pressure caving down on me.
“That’s what I thought. The message indicated that the two of you have been together behind closed doors. As you both know, this is completely unacceptable,” the coach tells us.
“Is it, though?” Maverick asks quietly. “She is turning my image around. The latest headlines have cast me in a positive light. My follower counts are climbing. Comments have skewed away from the negative and focused on how I’m back, how I’m making an impact, how my reputation is changing despite my slip-ups. ”
I’m frankly shocked that he’s been listening during our morning meetings lately. I thought he was mostly just staring at my boobs.
It seems like he actually wants this change. That he’s working for it.
That he wants me to be impressed with the turnaround.
I am.
Heartily.
I’m proud of the work we’ve done. I’m proud of him, and the pride beams from my eyes at his words.
But Coach Richards, on the other hand, is not. “Look, I don’t want to go to Nash with this, so I came to you first. Just deny it, take the warning, and stop whatever it is that’s going on so we can focus on the game. All right?”
Maverick is apparently choosing this moment to slip back into old habits.
“No. It’s not all right. It’s bullshit. I can live my life however I please, and if I choose to fuck my brand strategist or a teammate’s sister or whether she’s one and the same, that’s nobody’s business but my own.
” He glances at me, clearly expecting solidarity. “And hers.”
My cheeks turn as red as my lips as my eyes widen at his choice of words. Way to sugarcoat things, jackass.
I close my eyes and blow out a breath. “Yes, we’ve, uh…been together. We’re seeing each other,” I admit. “It’s been nothing but positive, Coach. He’s opening up to me, and it truly is having a positive effect on his reputation.” I rattle off a few statistics off the top of my head.
Coach Richards stares dumbly at me. “It doesn’t matter. You’re employed by the team, which means the two of you cannot be together. End of story. Now fix it, or Jack Dalton finds out, and he’ll be the one to fix it for you.”
“With all due respect, he ended up marrying the person sent in to fix him. What if that’s our path, too?” Maverick asks quietly.
Oh my God.
Holy shit.
Marriage?
Is he serious right now?
I figured he never wanted to get married again after his first marriage. He just doesn’t seem like the type.
But he’s right. He’s turning around. Little changes here and there could equate to bigger changes.
Still. Marriage?
I mean…yeah, I’m falling in love with him. Or rather, yes, I love him. But I haven’t thought quite that far ahead. I haven’t put future meaning to those words.
But he’s talking marriage. That’s a serious commitment. Lifelong. I know I want to be married someday. I know I want to have kids someday. But…fuck. I didn’t even want to work with an NFL star a few months ago, never mind marry one.
It’s just not how I ever envisioned my life. I never wanted to be a football wife.
But I want to be with Maverick.
It’s not like I can take or leave the parts I want and don’t. I get the whole man, and he’s a work in progress. I guess I am, too. Aren’t we all? I thought by the time I turned thirty, I’d have it all figured out. I blew past that two years ago and still don’t have a clue what I want out of life.
But I know what I don’t want, and that’s sitting in someone’s office having my career threatened because I got involved with a client.
What would Mr. Langford say?
He’d fire me, too. Would it matter? Financially, no.
I have my trust fund to fall back on. I can use that to start my own business.
But reputationally? Yes, it would matter.
Very much so. I’d never be taken seriously in this business.
I’d forever be labeled the woman who slept with a client.
The world of publicity really isn’t all that big, and reputations stick with us forever.
Nobody would take me seriously, and people would always wonder if any male clients I acquire were only on my roster because we were sleeping together.
Or worse—I’d only attract male clients because of my reputation as a client-fucker.
My mind is running away with this.
Coach Richards stares at Maverick a long time after his use of the M-word. Eventually, he says, “Whatever it is you’re doing, make sure you’re not doing it here. Be careful. Both your reputations are on the line here.”
He’s not wrong.
I’m fuming when we leave his office. I whisper-yell in the hallway, “Did you have to be so blunt?”
He glances at me, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“You said you’re fucking your teammate’s sister,” I say.
He holds both hands up wildly in my direction as if to say, well, I am.
“Ugh!” I cry out in frustration.
He links an arm around my waist and hauls me toward him.
“Not here,” I whisper-yell, setting my hands on his chest and pushing him away.
He looks offended that I’m pushing him away, but I can’t stand here in this hallway with him holding me in his arms when the other coaches’ offices are just down the hall, when Jack’s office is just up the stairs, after the warning we just got.
He storms off toward the locker room, and I head into a conference room to get a little work done before I head out onto the field to watch practice.
He’s a little on the grumpy side today, but when isn’t he? And who would blame him? He came from his mother’s funeral. Most people would take some bereavement time, but not Maverick Jennings. I think the field is where he best works out his emotions, anyway.
Practice has ended, but Maverick stays on the field a little longer to run extra drills. It’s during that time that Coach Nash approaches me where I’m sitting on some bleachers.
“You’re doing a good job with him,” he says quietly, nodding toward the field.
“I’m doing my best to turn things around.”
“So Coach Richards mentioned,” he muses, both of us still looking at Maverick.
I sigh, not committing to a response other than that.
He turns toward me, and my eyes dart to him. “Look, what you do in your spare time is your own business. Just be careful with someone who’s so volatile, okay? I can’t have him losing whatever progress he’s made because of some emotional journey you’ve taken him on.”
I want to defend myself. I want to tell him it’s not like that. I’m not out to break his heart or hurt him. I’m here to support him, and we’ve fallen for each other along the way.
Somehow, though, it feels like my admission would only make things worse.
“I won’t mention it to Jack, but consider this your fair warning. If Richards and I know, it won’t be long before word gets out. You know Dex isn’t going to take kindly to it. Just be careful, okay?”
I look away from him and back at Maverick as a wave of emotion plows into me. I nod a little. “Okay.”
And then I slip out of the training facility and head toward home.