Chapter 24
brYCE
M iles and I stop for coffee at the shop down the street from my place. Well, I make him go in first. We pass one another as I walk in and he’s leaving. He winks.
“Bryce!” the barista calls right after I get in line.
Odd that there’s another Bryce here. It’s not the most common name, so I wait to see what she or he looks like, but no one approaches the counter.
The barista brings over another drink a minute later. “Carl!” She picks up the one that’s been sitting there, reads it, and calls, “Bryce!”
I walk over on the off chance that Miles ordered mine. “Can I ask what kind of drink that is?”
“Vanilla latte,” she says. “Are you Bryce?”
I smile and nod. “I am.”
“Aren’t you a lucky one then? That was Miles Cavanaugh who bought you that drink, isn’t it?”
I freeze, unsure what to say. “Um…”
“It’s okay. I don’t work for a gossip mag or anything. It’s cute.” She shrugs .
“Thanks.” I sip my coffee and dig a twenty from my wallet before placing it in the tip bin.
She eyes me. I hope she doesn’t take it as a bribe—or maybe I hope she does. As long as she doesn’t report this to anyone.
On the L train, I text Miles a thank you for my coffee.
MC: You make it difficult for me to do nice things for you.
Me: I appreciate it so much, I thought I would be late for my meeting with Shelly.
MC: Once we’re out in the world, you’ll see exactly how I’ll treat you.
I don’t know how to respond because I’m not sure how we’ll ever get to the point where we can be seen as a couple.
If Ronnie doesn’t allow Shelly back and the job with the Grizzlies is mine, how do we tell our bosses?
They expressly forbid our relationship. Even Damon mentioned it the minute he found out about us.
My phone vibrates, and I expect it to be Miles, but it’s my mom.
I haven’t talked to my parents since my dad left the morning after the game.
We never had our breakfast—I refused after that woman had come by our table the night before.
I was still angry and knew I wasn’t in the headspace to talk to my dad about the past, so there’s a lot of unfinished business still between us.
I’ve been so consumed with Miles, I haven’t addressed it.
He’s made it easier to avoid that part of my life.
I send Mom to voice mail, not needing to be in that headspace when I meet with Shelly.
Which I’m starting to dread. If she’s not coming back to the Grizzlies, why do I have to go to her house and fill her in once a week?
I feel as if I’m playing both sides and I hate it.
Plus, it’s my column right now, but I swear she has Mr. Osterman wrapped around her finger.
Descending the stairs from the L station onto the Bucktown streets, I finish my coffee right before I head up to her apartment. I’m tossing the cup in the trash when I see a small note scribbled on the bottom of the cup.
I’ll be thinking of you all day. ~ M
God, he is so fucking sweet.
I tear off the bottom of the cup and get off as much of the coffee as I can before putting it in my messenger bag. I can’t imagine all the sweet things he would do for me if we were out in the open. A large part of me wants to find out because I’ve never felt this honored or appreciated by anyone.
I think a part of me knew I’d feel this way two years ago, and that’s why I ran.
Now I’m invested and I want to spend all my time with him. It makes me wonder if I should have kept that wall up.
I press the buzzer to Shelly’s apartment, and she buzzes me up without asking who it is.
I come at the same time every week. As much as I hate going, I do love seeing her little guy, Madden.
I didn’t realize how fast babies change at that age.
Every week when I show up, it’s like a completely different child is waiting for me.
Her door is propped open when I reach her apartment and she’s dressed in jeans and a sweater, her hair done and her makeup flawless. It’s like the old Shelly is back.
“Where’s Madden?” I ask .
“He’s with my parents for the night. Otherwise, I would never look like this.” She pours a cup of coffee. “Want some?”
I shake my head. “Just finished one. Can we get started right away? I don’t have a lot of time today.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry, I look forward to our days because it’s some of the only adult conversation I get. What do you have going on today?” She sits on the couch, placing her coffee on the table next to her and crossing her legs on the cushion.
It’s none of her business, but I don’t say that. “I have a luncheon.”
“Well then, let’s get right to it. I have some news that doesn’t have much to do with Sportsverse , but I got this tip from a girl. She thought I was still the writer for the Grizzlies. I guess she was at some bar or something recently and Miles Cavanaugh picked her up.”
My heart bobbles in my throat. I mask my reaction as best as I can. Hopefully I sell it. “I’m sorry?”
“I know, right? Everyone says he’s such a good guy, Mr. Intelligent, but she says he took her back to The Den and they had sex, like, three times. He refused to wear a condom and?—”
“Are you sure she’s a credible source? I mean, she wouldn’t be the first woman to make up a story about sleeping with a professional athlete.”
My heart hammers like a drumline. This cannot be true. No way he did that. He’s been with me all the time. I deny my urge to take out the bottom of a cardboard coffee cup and read his message again. But regardless, my heart cracks a little, hearing my worst fear.
“She sent me a picture of herself on his bed.”
A crease forms between my eyebrows. “How do you know it’s his bed? Is he in the picture?”
Please say no. Please say no.
“Well, that’s where you come in. You’re friends with him, right? ”
“Not really, and I’ve never been in his bedroom.” My tone is on edge. I’m probably giving myself away.
She picks up her laptop, and a few keystrokes later, she turns it in my direction.
Sure enough, the blonde has no shirt on, but the picture doesn’t show her breasts because it’s been censored.
But she’s lying on his dark maroon sheets and his glasses are next to her on the nightstand, along with his lamp and the book he’s been reading lately.
I swallow the lump in my throat and pretend not to want to bolt from her apartment so I can go demand answers. “When did she sleep with him?”
“She didn’t give me specifics, just told me it was after a game.”
I do some quick calculations in my head because I’m pretty sure I’ve been with him every night after his home games for weeks. “But it was recently?”
It had to have been, given the book on his nightstand. Regardless though, he told me he hadn’t been with anyone since he arrived in Chicago.
Shelly narrows her eyes. “Why all the questions? I swear that place is like a frat house, the way they bring women in and out. I’m sure if we dig enough, we’d find a story about Cooper too.” She sips her coffee.
“You’d be wrong.” I school my features. “So. It was recently?”
Shelly nods. “I think she said, like, two weeks ago.” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. The picture is evidence enough if we can prove it’s his bedroom.”
“It could be staged. There’s no proof it was his place. Not like he’s in the picture or anything.”
Shelly laughs. “For someone who’s so hard on him in your articles, you’re sure giving him the benefit of the doubt on this.”
She’s right, I need to tone down the defensiveness in my voice. “You just hear stories about this all the time. What’s this girl’s angle anyway? Why’d she come to you?”
She ignores my question. “Oh, here’s her other picture that proves she’s actually at Miles’s place.”
“So there is one of him?” No way. Not Miles. He would never sleep with someone and then sleep with me or vice versa.
“No, but she has an angle where you can see a picture of him at graduation with his parents and sister.”
She clicks the button, and there’s the framed photo on his dresser. Him in his blue graduation gown with his Summa Cum Laude sash. I know I’ve seen that photo in his apartment before. Bile rises up my throat.
“Oh.”
A smug look crosses her face, and she nods like I told you so. “One day someone is going to out them all.”
“Can I use your bathroom?”
“Sure. You know where it is. Excuse all the bath toys on the floor.”
I stand, my feet wobbling a bit before I can walk steadily. Once inside, I lock the door and stare in the mirror.
Trust yourself, Bryce. You know this is bullshit. Miles isn’t that guy, and deep down, you know that.
I pull out my phone and look at the calendar for all the Grizzlies’ games.
I’ve been with him after every one. The only time I wasn’t with Miles right after was the snowy away game where he was freshly showered and changed when he came over and brought me pizza.
But we had just started then, and technically we weren’t in a relationship.
God, we’re not technically in a relationship now. We’ve just been fooling around. We haven’t had a conversation about being exclusive.
But then why am I this hurt by this? If he was just a fuck buddy to me, I wouldn’t want to go over to the stadium and gouge his eyes out with my fingernails .
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. He didn’t do this. I believe in him. I push aside all that negative shit with my dad. Miles is not like my dad. One woman is enough for him.
I flush the toilet to pretend and wash my hands. I need to get out of here and find Miles.
Shelly has her laptop on her lap when I return, and she looks up. “You okay? You look sick or something.”
I nod. “Yeah, something I ate must not agree with me. I don’t have much from this week anyway. Nothing big to talk about. I was just going to write a piece on what the players’ days are like when they travel, ask the guys about their favorite restaurants in certain towns and stuff.”
“That’s a cute idea. A fluff piece.” Her insult cuts. It’s stuff I wanted to know back when I was just a fan. “Okay, until next week then.”
She’s way more chipper than usual, almost giddy, and I hate that she’s finding some sort of pleasure in Miles bringing a woman back to The Den.
“See you later. Sorry.” I grab my stuff and walk to the door, not saying anything as I leave.
Instead of hopping on the L, I grab an Uber and head directly to the field.
He drops me off, and I stand outside the stadium for a moment.
Is this the right place to do this? I’m not sure, but I need to catch Miles before that picture gets released.
I know I should trust him outright, but I have to see for myself.
My confidence has waned on the ride over here.
I have to see his face when I bring it up to put myself at ease.
Walking through the hallways, I find the team in the weight room. I ask Coach Iverson if I can have a word with Miles, with the hopes he just thinks I want a few lines for an article.
I wait in the room I’ve been using as a space to write when I’m here. Miles steps in a few minutes later. His eyes light up at the sight of me. He doesn’t look like a man who’s hiding anything.
“Hey,” he says, then he must realize something is up because he frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“I was just at Shelly’s and…”
“What?” He approaches me, but I put up my hand.
“I need you to be straight with me.”
“Bryce, what’s going on?”
“After the hotel room… were you with anyone else?”
His head rocks back as though I slapped him. “Of course not. Why would you ask that?”
“Because a girl sent Shelly a picture of herself naked on your bed.”
His lips twist and his face turns so red it looks as if it’s going to pop off his head. It was a bad idea to do this here.