Blitzed (Rules of Possession Book 3), page 29
“Meaning?”
“Helena and I are getting a divorce.”
I didn’t have the energy to whip up the big emotion he seemed to be waiting for. “Good for you, I guess. Whatever floats your boat.”
“You’ve inspired me, Jess. You and that idiot boyfriend of yours.” His tone was wry. “By the way, you should really tell him to work on that temper of his. Years of taking criticism straight to the face for being bisexual in the NFL? Nothing. A few words about you and he’s flying off the handle like a nutjob. He’ll be lucky if that reporter doesn’t sue.”
My eyes flew open. That had my blood pressure spiking in a hurry. “What are you talking about?”
“I guess you don’t watch Sports Beat, do you?”
“Not since my face was on it, no.”
“Let’s just say a reporter got slick at the mouth and he was very lucky your boyfriend’s teammates were there to separate them.”
I pressed my fingers to my temples. That was just fantastic. “Thanks ever so much,” I said. “My day was already shit before I knew that.”
“I told you. I’m working on it.”
“Why now?”
“Well, it’s certainly not because I wanted to. ’Lena came home early and caught me in… a delicate situation with the manny.”
“Trace,” I said, my voice laced with disapproval. “Your babysitter?”
“Manny,” he snapped. “And he’s twenty-seven. Around the same age as your boy toy.”
I huffed. It was all too easy to forget that ten-year gap. I planned to keep that forgetful shit going. “No wonder your wife wants a divorce.”
“Actually, she wants me dead,” he said grimly. “She’ll settle for the divorce, taking half my shit, and ruining me publicly.”
“I’m sorry,” I finally offered.
I was surprised to find that I meant it. True enough, he’d created this shit-fest himself. He’d also hurt someone he was supposed to love…or at the very least, care about. But coming out in this manner wasn’t going to be fun. Or easy.
He blew out a breath, and I wondered if his mind was going over the same rough territory I’d ventured onto. “Maybe it’ll be a nice change. To live life my way, you know?”
“I hope it is. Some things are worth it.”
“You still feel that way?” He sounded strangely vulnerable, miles apart from the worldly NFL player who always thought I was a little too naive.
My phone lit up with a call and the screen flashed with Andrew’s name. I smiled, which was a minor miracle considering the day I’d had. “Yeah. I do. Look I’ve got another call.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Don’t be a stranger.”
I already knew I wouldn’t initiate a call with him. But if he ever called again, I’d probably answer. I was a little short on friends right about now. He was about to be, too.
“See you.” I clicked over and answered before the call disappeared. “Hey.”
“Hey, sweetheart.”
God, it was good to hear the warmth in his voice. The day didn’t fall away just like that but things had taken a definite upswing. I’m so completely gone for you.
“I’m guessing your day has been as long as mine,” I said, grabbing the remote. I started flicking through the channels. I needed something quick and mindless that could push me over into dreamland.
“Your powers of deduction are amazing,” he said with a chuckle. “How were things at the center?”
“Fine. The staff and the kids have been clutch. I don’t know why I expected anything different.”
“Because you’re my sour patch kid,” he said with a yawn. “Don’t ever change.”
I laughed. “How was practice?”
“Not bad. We’ve been watching game film for the Raptors, and it seems like physicality is their only weapon this season.”
I navigated past a couple of reality shows. “Which means?”
“We’re ready for the heat.”
Good Lord. The man had no sense of self-preservation. “Just don’t get injured, yeah?”
“That’s always the plan.” He still sounded a little too amped about being ready for the heat or whatever. “What are you up to?”
“Watching TV.” I landed on a channel showing a clip of a familiar face and sighed. “Do I want to know why there’s footage of you brawling on ESPN?”
“You do not.” He sounded entirely too cheerful considering onscreen Andrew was in someone’s face. The guy wasn’t quite as tall or big, but he was no slouch. It took several players to break them up. “Do I want to know why your father gave a short interview to TMZ?”
“You do not,” I said as I continued to flick through channels.
I finally settled on a show about whales that slotted into the category of interesting but not too interesting and tossed the remote on the coffee table. Andrew yawned again and triggered my own. My eyes watered as I snuggled into the couch.
“I should be back in a few days,” he said. “Will you wait for me at my place?”
“What’s wrong with my place?”
“Your security is shit and your bed is sub-par.”
“I got it on Amazon,” I said with a sleepy grin. He was a bed snob and he needed to know that. “Nothing but five-star reviews. It cost me less than three hundred bucks.”
“Jesse.” He sounded horrified. “No wonder.”
“It’s a nice bed.”
“It’s very small.”
“No, you’re just very big,” I murmured.
“I rolled off that one time. You remember when you were snickering, and it wasn’t the least bit funny?”
“I only laughed because you were fine,” I said patiently.
“I hit my head on the nightstand.”
“Yeah, but did you die?”
He laughed. “Fuck you.”
On the nature show, the mother whale was leading her group of students to shore and encouraging them to breach themselves. An oceanographer with wild, wind-blown curls told us in a hushed voice that the mother was teaching them a risky technique they used to get seals lounging on the sand.
I shook my head even as my eyes slid shut. “Those baby whales need child protective services.”
“What?”
“If we don’t call, who will?”
“Wow.” Andrew sounded amused. “I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this before, but you get loopy when you’re sleepy.”
“Maybe. Miss you,” I told the throw pillow under my cheek. “Wish you were here.”
He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was gruff. “I will be. As soon as humanly possible.”
“Love you.” I wondered what those whales were up to but I couldn’t be pressed to open my heavy eyelids. “More than I knew was possible.”
“Jess?”
Andrew’s voice startled me. I hadn’t even realized I was still on the phone. “Hmm?”
“I’m going to let you get some rest.”
“K.”
“And I’m going to need you to repeat all the things you said tonight in person.”
“Why’s that?” My voice sounded strange and slurred even to my own ears. I tried again and tried to enunciate. “What’d I say?”
He chuckled. “Get some rest, sweetheart.”
Now that I could do. I drifted to sleep without hanging up the phone, thinking I could handle more days like this one, as long as it ended with me being his sweetheart.
32
JESSE
The end of the week brought good news and bad. Andrew played his last away game, which was great. I’d watched the game on Grant’s big screen with his wife and mother sitting on either side of me. There was a lot of popcorn, wings, beer…and yelling. Lots of yelling. A ref made a bad call in the third quarter and I thought Kim might throw her shoe at the screen. Grant calmly plucked the sandal from her hand and slipped it back on her foot, never losing his grip on his beer.
It was nice that they’d included me. Like I belonged or something. When I struggled to verbalize my gratitude for the invite, they’d looked at me as though I’d grown two heads.
“You’re family now,” Grant said, clapping me on the back. “Where the hell else would you be?”
So yeah.
The Outlaws won two out of the three away games, which was great. Joshua was back and wanted to see me first thing Monday, which was not. He still hadn’t mentioned the status of the Schwartz donation, but I could see the writing on the wall. Why did people care so much about who I’d been anyway? Or what I’d done so very long ago? What about all the good things I’d done? The kids that I’d helped?
By the time I finally stormed into his office, I’d worked myself into quite a lather. I yanked open his door and we both jumped a little as it hit the opposing wall with a bang. Oops.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “But if no one else, you should be on my side.”
His mouth fell open. “What?”
“I’ll leave if that’s what you want. The center is more important. But after everything I’ve done, I’d like to think—”
“Leave?” He was confusion personified. “Okay, maybe we should back this train up to the station for a few seconds. It looks like you left a few passengers. And your brain.”
I glared. “I’m not in the mood, Knox.”
“Well, clearly you’ve lost the plot if you think I would ever fire you.” He gave me a look of wonder. “What are you smoking?”
“You’re not…you didn’t call me in here to….” I cleared my throat. “What?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to start this meeting over. Unless you’d like to accuse me of something else first?”
“Sorry.” I flopped in one of his rickety guest chairs, rubbing my eye sockets with my palms until I saw stars. “It’s been a long damn day. Week. Month. Life?”
He chuckled. “Okay, well, let’s just set this to rest for good. The day I let you go is the day you can put me in a coffin and throw some dirt on top. Jess.” When I met his eyes, they were full of warmth. “You’re the only reason any of this works.”
“Oh.” I knew my cheeks had to be pink, and he confirmed that with his soft laugh. “You think I’m wasting money on a coffin for you? You get a box like a treasured family guinea pig, and you’ll be happy about it.”
He barked out a laugh. “Fuck you, Fox.”
I sat back in my chair, enjoying a little bit of normalcy. I could almost pretend that nothing had changed and I was still the Jesse Fox who could go the grocery store without a hat and shades to shop for fruit in peace.
“Why did you want to see me, then?”
“Other than the fact that I always want to see you?” He chided. “I have good news. Bad news. Then good news again.”
“Hit me,” I said grimly. I didn’t specify which I wanted first, but Joshua should know me well enough by now—salt, then pour some sugar on me.
“We lost the Schwartz donation.”
I processed that quietly. Even though I’d expected it, the news was still a blow to the stomach. It was a moment before I could lift my gaze to meet his. “Should I even ask?”
“He has other projects he’d like to give some time and attention to,” he said carefully.
I gave a bitter laugh. Jeffrey Schwartz may be short on a lot of things, but money wasn’t one of them. “Hit me with some sugar, Knox.”
“Dale and George are having another kid.”
His proud little smile triggered my own. “Holy shit. Congratulations. You’re going to be a grandpop two times over.”
“Better than that. He said he wished that we lived closer. He also thinks it would be easier to work on us if he didn’t live damn near across the country, and I agree. We could reestablish our relationship on a healthier foundation, you know? Dinner on the weekends. Holidays, maybe. And if he’s not ready to have holidays together, I could at least drop by. I could even watch the kids sometimes….”
He all but had stars in his eyes and my smile grew. If anyone deserved it, Joshua did.
“So he’s moving here? That’s amazing.”
I frowned when he didn’t respond. That steady expression was trying to tell me something. He looked like…like he was waiting for me to catch up. And then I did. A pang in my chest offered the sour feeling in my stomach some company. Surely I was coming to all the wrong conclusions.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Jesse.”
“You have a life here. People who count on you. What about the center?” The pang in my chest grew ocean sized. “What about the kids? Your house?”
What about me?
And to think I’d been kind of glad the day had started shitty. In my naivete, I thought that meant it could only go up. Turns out I’d been in the intermission, enjoying an overpriced scotch in the lobby. Now it was time to head back into the theater for an even shittier second half.
“Jesse,” he said again, firmly “I can’t pass up this opportunity.”
“I would never ask you to. But what if he’s not as open to this reunion as you hope?” I asked quietly.
I felt like an asshole even saying such a thing. But no matter what, I would always look out for Joshua Knox. Even when he pulled the rug out from under me without so much as a howdy do.
“Then I'll deal with it,” he said calmly, and I felt like an idiot. Of course he'd thought of that. “One day at a time, Jess. That's all we can do.”
“I guess,” I murmured. “I’m not sure how we’re going to manage without you. Who's going to run this place? Who’s going to make sure that we’re on track?”
His mouth quirked as he gestured for me to get up. When I didn’t move a muscle, he made the gesture again. “Get your ass up, Fox.”
“I’m comfortable,” I said with a scowl. “And quite frankly, I'm not in the mood for any of your fucking trust exercises. Last time we did that fall into my arms bullshit at that retreat, you stumbled.”
“I had you,” he maintained. “Your shirt was slippery.”
“It was cotton, for crying out loud. Just admit it. Your inner core is practically fondue.”
He laughed. “Up. Now, Jesse.”
I got up, grumbling the whole while as he beckoned me over to his side of the desk. I felt all kinds of petulant because he was mine, not Dale’s, and he was leaving.
“Well?” I prodded when he didn't speak.
He stood and gestured at his chair. “Have a seat.”
My eyes went wide. I was already shaking my head no as he nodded yes. “Me?”
“Who else?”
I ran a hand through my hair, mussing it even worse than usual. “Yeah, maybe before all of the crap that happened in the media. But I can’t be the face of this place now. We might lose more donors. People might stop their kids from coming here. I just don’t see how—”
“Jesse?”
I blinked at him because I wasn’t finished listing everything that could and would go wrong. That was kind of my specialty and I would not be deterred. “What?”
“Shut up.”
He guided me by my shoulders over to his chair. I had no choice but to sit. It was either that or let him kick the back of my knees, which we both knew he could and would do. I settled into the divot he'd left with his much larger body. It felt like a warm hug. I looked up at Joshua’s face, soft with something I wasn’t about to define.
“I didn't think you needed to hear this. But since you're an idiot and you do, I'll waste some of the precious breath I have left on this earth and spell it out for you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’ll outlive us all, you old bastard—”
“There is no one, and I mean no one, that I trust more in this world.”
“I know you trust me with the center, Josh,” I said impatiently. “That’s not the question—”
“I didn’t specify with the center. You did.”
He waited for me to absorb that. My eyes pricked a little as I felt the burn of tears. I'd wanted to know what Andrew felt in that picture with his father that he’d posted online, the one of them on draft day, mutual trust and pride shining in their eyes like a tangible thing. Now I knew.
“I trust you, too,” I finally said when I could speak without losing it.
“Good. Because I don’t care what anyone else has to say about it. This center is just as much yours as it is mine. And I want you to be the face of it.” His voice was calm and clear as he went on, tearing me apart and putting me back together brick by brick. “We don't need someone perfect who's never had to struggle for anything in their whole life. We need someone who's been there and done that. Someone who had to make the hard choices he never thought he’d make and someone who still came out on the other side.”
Fuck, if he made me cry, he wasn't going to need a moving van. I was going to slingshot his ass to Delaware.
“That’s why the kids respond to you the way they do,” he went on. “You’re not just giving them platitudes. They see you and realize what they could be if they just keep pushing and veering around every obstacle determined to pop up in their path.”
“We may lose donors,” I said quietly. “Like Schwartz.”
“Fuck ’em. We'll get others. Better ones.”
“You’re starting to sound like Molly.”
He looked alarmed. “Thank fuck I'm getting out of here then. I’m too old to be saddled with relentless optimism.”
I laughed and it sounded a little waterlogged. But I was not crying. I wasn't. Annoyed, I gave my watery eyes a swipe. I wasn’t the best with change—I’d admit that. All the changes early on in my life had been bad, and somehow the correlation had stuck.
But change had brought me Joshua Knox. It had brought me purpose in helping kids going through the same shit I’d gone through. And it had brought me the love of my life. So maybe that fucker wasn’t so bad after all.
“You look good in that seat,” Joshua said, folding his arms. “How does it feel?”
“Feels right.”
“Good.” He nodded. “Now get your ass out of my chair. You're not the director yet.”
