Evan
If there was one thing I hated, it was lying to Summer. It wasn’t exactly a lie—it was more the inability to give her the full truth. It was true that Coach Joel would make me stay late, but it wasn’t true about him making her stay. The other day, I overheard Lara talking to Grayson about how she wished someone could bring her sister back. I remembered feeling the same way a few years ago when Kate’s boyfriend, Scott, overdosed on pain pills. She was devastated, and I had no clue if she’d be able to move on. Thankfully, she did, but I was by her side every step of the way. I just had to help her see past the grief. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that the pain would ever go away, but I was glad she was able to move on with Cooper.
In order to help Summer, I needed to help her see that there was a whole world of new adventures waiting for her. I don’t know what all she went through when her husband was killed, but I could only imagine. When we pulled up to the practice field, a group of the guys who were congregating out front noticed us. Summer blew out a nervous breath and closed her eyes.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m just waiting for the shit storm.”
I shut off the truck and opened my door. “Shit storm? What are you talking about?”
She pursed her lips and then nodded toward the crowd. “Either you’re blind or you didn’t notice the go-to-hell stare your ex just gave me when you parked.”
Peering over at the crowd, I could see Lindsey glaring at us with her hands on her hips. I wanted to say fuck her and the fourteen thousand guys she let pound her ass, but I held back. “Don’t worry about her, sunshine. She used to look at Kate the same way. Besides, you’re not going to be anywhere near her today. I won’t let her bother you.”
Grabbing her bag, Summer kept her eyes on the crowd and snorted. “I’m not worried about her bothering me, Evan. I’m afraid of what I’ll do if she does. I’ve kept my mouth shut around her for way too long. She’s horrible to my staff and she’s a shitty tipper. Unfortunately, I have to be civil when I’m at work.”
After shutting my door, I joined her on the other side of my truck and grabbed her bag. “Well, then, I guess it’s a good thing you don’t have to be civil here.”
She looked up at me and grinned. “You’re going to get me into so much trouble, Evan Townsend.”
“And I have two weeks to make sure I do. Let’s go.”
—
“All right, pansies, you did well today,” Cooper shouted. Ever since he joined our team, we had been unstoppable. I was one of the best wide receivers in the league, but there was only so much we could do with the shitty quarterback we had before him. It was nice to actually win for a change.
Derek tossed his helmet on the ground and slapped him on the shoulder. “Hell, yeah, we did. Super Bowl, here we come.”
Coach Joel sauntered up with a huge grin on his face. “Not bad, boys. I think this is going to be a good season.” Before we could all disperse, he put his hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “Nice work today, son. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you run so fast down the field. You trying to impress someone?”
And as if my thoughts betrayed me, I searched the field for that certain someone. She was laughing with Kate and Brianna, who was Derek’s girlfriend. Derek snuck up behind Brianna, and she squealed when he threw her over his shoulder and twirled her around. Summer smiled and then snuck a glance my way. Unintentionally, Joel stepped in my way, blocking my view of her.
“Thanks for the compliment, Coach. Is that all you wanted to say?”
Chuckling, he put his arm around my shoulder. “Actually, no.” He pointed to the opposite side of the field, where a woman stood talking on her phone. “Do you see that woman down there? She wants to interview you for a magazine article. Apparently, you’re a hot commodity in the Queen City.”
“What about Cooper? He’s the star quarterback.” Everyone wanted the quarterbacks. That was all you’d see in the newspapers.
He shrugged. “She asked for you.” He turned to walk away, then stopped, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Oh, and once you get done talking to her, you need to stay and work one-on-one with Gavin.”
“Is it because I was late?”
“Well, that, and Gavin needs to get up to your level. If anything were to happen to you, we’d be screwed. Just don’t get hurt.”
“I don’t plan on it,” I called, walking backward toward the reporter. When she saw me approaching, she turned off her phone and slid it into her purse. She looked to be in her early thirties, with wavy, light brown hair, wearing a pair of tight black pants and a silky red top.
She closed the distance and held out her hand. “Evan Townsend, it’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Bailey Morgan, journalist for Sports Unlimited.”