Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Bobby
I made sure my location is off on all my social media apps. The boys would never let me live it down if they knew I was at Coach’s house. Voluntarily. I ring the doorbell, and it takes years for someone to swing open the huge wrought iron door. Coach stands there in an elf costume with a confused look on his face. And he doesn’t look like a cute elf from the North Pole, but more like Buddy the Elf from the movie Elf. It takes everything I’ve got not to give him a full-length perusal to take in the green tights and pointy shoes. There’s not enough eye bleach in the world for that.
A snicker bursts out of my mouth before I can swallow it back, and Coach’s face turns to thunder. Which is the opposite of why I’m here two days after Christmas. I force my face into neutral and hold out the platter I’m carrying. I stopped by the finest seafood restaurant in Tampa just to pick up this bad boy.
“Merry Christmas, Coach!” I really want to add in a hearty ho, ho, ho, but I don’t think he’d appreciate it. “I brought you and the Missus your favorite oysters!”
He looks at it like it might be poison. I shake the platter, and he finally takes it with a disgruntled harumph. A much cuter elf comes up to his side and gasps at my offering.
“Bobby Rhodes! Thank you so much!” Coach’s wife leans in to give me a hug, which I return. She has a curious accent that I can’t place.
“You’re welcome. I just wanted to say sorry for being a jackass at our last game and I know how much Coach loves oysters, so...” I scratch the back of my neck, feeling like I walked into some weird role-playing game they’ve got going on.
“Come in, come in!” His wife grabs my arm and drags me inside the house. “We have at least fifteen minutes before we have to leave for our party. Isn’t Andre the cutest elf you’ve ever seen?”
I force a smile to match hers as we both glance at Coach. He stands there with the oyster platter, looking like he hates his life. My smile turns into a chuckle. He sticks his finger in my face, but his wife bats it away.
“Oh, he’s such a grouch. I don’t know how you boys put up with him.”
I really want to suggest he go to the costume party as the grinch, but I’ve reached the level of maturity that lets me think things through before I say them out loud. “Well, we’re pretty hard to put up with too. Which is why I’m here with my sincerest apologies.”
Coach huffs, setting the tray down on a coffee table fit for a king. He gestures to the couch behind me, and I sit. He and his wife sit across from me. Thankfully, Coach puts a throw pillow across his lap so I don’t have to worry about my eyes accidentally seeing anything in those tights.
“I appreciate the peace offering. I know I can come down on you pretty hard, Bobby, but I see your potential. You could be our starter for the next ten years if you get your act together.”
His confidence in me makes the weight on my shoulders lift a little. “Thank you, sir. I promise I’m doing everything to get my personal life in order. I just spent the holidays healing some of the things that get under my skin.” I wince. “Now if I can just fix the woman situation...”
“Ohh, honey,” his wife interjects. “I can help, if you’d like. Women are complicated creatures. When Andre and I were dating, we broke up for a little while. He would never answer his hotel room phone when I’d call while he was on the road with his team. I began to believe he was keeping time with women in every city his team played in.” She laughs while Coach rolls his eyes. “Come to find out, he was learning Italian with his headphones on to surprise me. Never heard that phone ringing! After he convinced me to give him another chance, he proposed in front of my family back in Italy. And he did it in my native language!”
I look over at Coach to see the tips of his ears bright red. “That’s really romantic, Coach. You got game.”
He huffs, but his wife just keeps on going. “So, tell us what’s going on. I bet we can help.”
And so I do. Over a plate of shared oysters, I tell them about Molly, Matthew, my family, therapy, and what I see for my future. By the time I leave, they’re late for their party, I feel like Coach and I came to an understanding that cements my position on the team, and I’m horny as shit from those fucking oysters.
Kaitlyn texts me on my way home from Coach’s house.
Kaitlyn: Where the hell are you? The boys are all going to this axe throwing place off the 19 for some team bonding. Please go and make sure Banks doesn’t cut off a hand. He can’t change a diaper with only one hand, Bobby.
Me: I’m on it. Although I’m pretty sure you can do lots of things with just one hand. Diapers included.
Kaitlyn: When you’ve changed a blowout diaper, you’ll know you need at least five hands to contain it.
I don’t want to know what a blowout diaper is, so I just give her message a thumbs up and head toward the axe throwing place that just opened in Clearwater.
The boys are already there, taking up three bays and causing a ruckus. I join them, getting hugs and back slaps and questions about my Christmas. Druggy gives me shit about my new snow boots that are entirely unnecessary in Florida, even in the winter, but are super stylish. Banks shoves a beer bottle in my hand. Cappy says I stink like the inside of a fish barrel. Honestly, I missed these fuckers. They’re everything I ever wanted in a team. We’re a family already, and now that I know I’m staying here for a few years, I can settle into being a part of it.
Turns out that throwing axes at a target is hard work. Most of mine bounce off the wall and fall to the floor instead of sinking the blade into the bullseye. By our fifth round, I take a break and crack open a fresh beer while sitting on one of the couches they provide in the back of each bay. Benny throws his arm around me.
“How come you aren’t at Molly’s tonight?”
I give him the stink eye. He knows damn well why I’m not with Molly. He and Kaitlyn gossip like a pack of middle school girls. “She dumped my ass, remember?”
The boys all suddenly lean in like they’ve been waiting for this subject to come up. Cappy is the first to lob out a question.
“We heard, but why? We thought things were going good?”
“Yeah, I thought you were going to ask her to move in with you,” Money pipes in.
“If you looked at another woman and hurt her, we will all kick your ass next practice,” Druggy growls.
I hold up my hands. “Easy, killer. I haven’t looked at any woman except my mama. Molly ended things because she doesn’t believe that I want her long term, even though I asked her and Matthew to move in with me. I’ve been doing a full court press for our entire relationship while she stomps on the brakes. Why would she think I’d suddenly not want her? I just...I don’t get it.” I stop talking and swig some beer instead.
“Dude, that sucks,” Cappy laments with me.
Druggy just frowns at me, but that’s nothing new. “Wait. She already has a house, yes?”
“Yeah. Why?” Half the time I don’t even know what Druggy is saying.
He spouts something off in Russian, then translates. “It is nice being a guest, but it is nicer at home.”
We all stare at him, trying to make sense of his Russian-isms. I don’t even try. I pat his knee. “Well, thanks for that, Druggy. I feel so much better.”
Benny holds up his hand. “Wait, wait, wait. It scares me a little, but I think I understand Druggy.” He turns to me. “You invited Molly to move in with you, but what kind of security does that actually give her? She’s not on the title. There’s no ring on her finger. You asked her to give up the home she’s made for her and Matthew to be a guest in your house. I would have turned your ass down too.”
I gape at him, horror pushing out all the heartbreak I’ve been feeling over the holiday. Is that what Molly thought? That I’d asked her to give up all her security and familiarity to play house with me?
“That’s not what I meant!”
“Doesn’t matter what you meant, that’s what she heard,” Dan-O shakes his head. “You’re a good guy, Roadie. One of the best on this team. We give you a lot of shit because we love you. We know you meant well, but maybe you didn’t address what she actually needs, you know?”
I listened to her fucking ex-husband, the guy who didn’t give her what she needed their entire marriage. For shit’s sake, I’m an idiot. I jump to my feet, slamming my beer down on the side table. “I fucked this up.”
“Most definitely,” Druggy drawls.
I dig in my pocket for my keys, glad I only had two beers over several hours and I’m good to drive home. “I gotta go.”
I barely get my goodbyes said before I’m racing out of the axe throwing place and back to Wolverine. Once inside, I pull up Coco’s number from the agency’s website. Say what you want about the woman, but she has more class in her pinky finger than I do in my entire designer closet.
And she knows Molly inside and out.