When I Need You (Need You #4)

“But—”

“And when I attempted to explain to this newbie coach why the meeting was not mandatory for me, he believed the best option was to yell at a veteran player. I opted to walk away at that point as I am under time constraints today.”

Trent shuffled his feet. “Look, between us? This transitional-team stuff wasn’t my idea. But I have to follow through and do my job.”

“Great.” I grinned at him. “Write up Coach Wannabe for verbally abusive behavior. I’ve got witnesses. He knows I did nothing to incur that type of inappropriate response except exercise my right to say no to the meeting.”

“Off the record? Why are you being a dick about this? It’s two freakin’ hours out of your day before you go home for the weekend. Is it really worth the hassle?”

“You want me to play that way? Fine.” I slipped the belt through the first loop on my slacks. “On the record? If you don’t believe I have full veto power of optional preseason meetings with nonessential coaching staff, please have management contact my agent, Peter Skaarn, about contract specifics. He will set them straight, trust me.” No one fucked with my agent. “Off the record? My kid has a performance tonight and there’s no way I’m missing it as it’s already been set around my schedule.”

Trent frowned. “Your kid? Since when do you have a kid, Lund?”

Shit. I screwed that up. “The boy is like a son to me. It’s not something I talk about publicly, but I can trust someone from HR with that confidential information, right?” I had him pinned down and he knew it.

“Whatever. I’ll have to put it in my report.”

“You do what you have to, Trent. I’ll put a call in to my agent so he’ll be able to answer any questions that arise.” I buckled my belt and reached for my duffel bag. “Have a good weekend.”

I texted Astrid to let her know I was on my way. Then I called Rowan, but she didn’t answer. I left a message—G-rated, so Calder could hear me tell him to break a leg. Traffic on 169N out of Mankato was heavy for a Friday as I headed back to the Cities.

Ten million things raced around inside my head and oddly enough, few of them had to do with the upcoming football season.

My entire family would be at the camp recital tonight.

Rowan’s parents would be there as well as Martin. Would it be weird trying to balance it all out?

My phone rang. The ID on the dash display said: ASTRID. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Jens, I forgot something major for tonight. And I’m here doing last-minute checks and run-through and close-outs and I can’t possibly—”

“What do you need?”

“Individually wrapped roses for each one of the campers for when they finish the dance performance. And a bouquet of flowers for the teachers because we are introducing them at the end. Oh and flowers for the camp sponsors. God. I can’t freakin’ believe I forgot that! I’m so sorry.”

“Astrid. Take a deep breath. There’s three hours until showtime. I’ll take care of it.”

“You promise?”

“Yep. Is there anything else you need?”

“No. But I don’t get why I’m so damn nervous.”

“I feel ya. It’s the culmination of everything you’ve worked on the past three months. It’ll feel good to end it, as much as you don’t want it to end.”

“You really are so much more than just a ‘playbook, end zone, taking one for the team’ kind of bonehead jock, Lund.”

“Hang on; let me grab a tissue, because that heartwarming sentiment might lead me to think you were crushing on me. Wait, has being around a real man like me caused you to rethink the whole lesbian thing?”

“And . . . you wrecked it. Get the flowers and don’t be late.” She hung up.

I laughed and some of my tension drained out. Dealing with the flowers? Right up my alley. As a former manwhore, I had several flower shops on speed dial.

? ? ?


I forced myself to stay away from the school until twenty minutes before the program started. While I’d gotten the ball rolling on Camp Step-Up, the credit for its success didn’t belong to me at all. Astrid and Dallas were the real stars.

I parked by the back entrance and opened up the back of my Hummer. After I hauled the flowers backstage, I peeked through the curtain. The entire café-torium was packed. The front row had a RESERVED sign. I managed to snag Astrid’s attention the fourth time she hustled past me. “The flowers are in the back corner.”

She hugged me. “Thank you, thank you. Seriously.”

“Who is handing them out?” Please say me so I can stay back here.

“Jaxson. During your speech and while you’re introducing the staff after the program.”

Panic slammed into me as hard as a hit from J. J. Watt. “You did not tell me I’d be speaking tonight, Astrid.”

“Mr. Lund. Camp Step-Up is your LCCO project and your responsibility. During football season you do at least two national press conferences a week. Millions of people watch you on TV. Why is speaking in front of a hundred and fifty people—mostly children—putting that fear in your eyes?”

Because this time it matters. All the people who matter the most to me in the entire world are here tonight and I don’t want to fuck up.

“You rock at on-the-fly adjustments, Rocket,” she said with a smirk. “You’ll be fine. Just follow your playbook.”

“Hilarious.” I pointed to the reserved seats in the front row. “Are you sitting out there?”

She shook her head. “I’m back here the whole performance. That’s for you. Now shoo. I’m busy.”

I killed another ten minutes moving my car. When I reached the front entrance and heard the excited din, my hand automatically went up to adjust the ball cap . . . that wasn’t there. Dammit. Maybe I should grab the extra one out of my workout bag.

Or maybe everyone already knows who you are and you should just take your seat so the program can get started.

A firm hand swept across my shoulders.

Two weeks I’d been without her touch.

Everything inside me settled and I could breathe again.

Rowan rested her head on my biceps. “You okay, big guy?”

“Antsy. Is Calder nervous? Does he get stage fright?”

She laughed softly. “Are you kidding? The boy is in his element. I’m more worried he’ll deviate from the program and perform a dance solo.”

“I’d be okay with that.”

“The other parents wouldn’t be.” She squeezed my shoulder. “Calder was thrilled about the voice mail. Thanks for letting him know you were thinking about him. It was important to him.”

“He’s important to me.” I angled my neck to kiss the top of her head. “You’re both important to me. You’ve jumped to the top of my newly created list of life priorities.”

“Jens—”

“I love you,” I murmured into her hair. “Most days I don’t know what the hell to do with it, but it’s there. Every day. Without fail.”

She slid her hand from my shoulder and lightly punched my kidney. “Don’t you dare make me cry before this performance even starts, Jensen Bernard Lund.”