Page 85 of Make the Play

“All set?” he asks.

“Yes. Today at three. Does that work for you?”

“Yep. I’ll swing by and pick you up on the way,” he tells me.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can meet you there.”

“That’s pointless for us both to drive there. It makes more sense for us to drive together. Besides, you’ll still be here, and it’s on my way.”

I don’t know who’s listening, but I don’t want to make this a big deal. “Sure, that would be great. Thank you.”

He nods, and that’s my sign it’s time for me to get the hell out of here. “I need to get back to work.” I wave to those who are left and shuffle out the door.

It’s two-thirty. Time to shut down my computer and lock up my office. I texted Knox and told him that I would meet him in the parking lot. He wanted to come to my office to get me, but I put my foot down. We gravitate toward one another when we’re together; the fewer people who see that, the better.

Pushing open the door and exiting into the employee and players’ parking lot, I find him standing next to the wall, arms crossed over his chest and legs crossed at his ankles. “There’s my girl.” He smiles, and damn if my knees don’t wobble.

“Ready to go, Mr. Beckett?” I ask, shoulders back, head held high, trying to remain professional.

“Just Knox,” he says, taking the tote bag of Rampage gear off my shoulder to lighten my load.

“Not here,” I counter as I walk past him toward his truck. At work, he has to be Mr. Beckett. I need a way to differentiate between my Knox and the quarterback of the Rampage.

He rushes to pull the door open for me and waits until I’m settled to close it. He’s quiet until he’s pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the children’s hospital. “Did I do something to piss you off?” he asks.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, I turn to look at him. His eyes are on the road, but his jaw is locked tight as if he’s ready for a fight. Reaching over the console, I place my hand on his thigh. “No, you didn’t piss me off. This is hard, Knox.”

“Why couldn’t I come upstairs to get you?”

“Because when you’re close to me, I gravitate toward you. The more time we spend together, the more difficult it becomes to hide what I feel for you.”

“And what’s that?” he asks, his voice gruff.

“I care about you. So much,” I add quickly. “It’s hard for me to be in the same room with you and hide that.”

“Then we don’t,” he counters. “We tell Landry first, then we go to the Rampage, and the chips fall where they may.”

“We can’t, Knox. We’ve talked about this. I won’t come between the team during the season. The team is thriving this year, and I can’t be the reason that changes.”

“It won’t.”

“Just a little longer. A few months, and if you still feel this way, if you’re still okay with telling them, then we will.”

“I won’t change my mind, Corie.”

“Okay. So, you focus on football. Kick ass on the field like you always do. Bring us home the league championship, and then we’ll tell them.”

He drops his hand on mine and laces our fingers together, bringing our joined hands to kiss the back of mine. “Fine, we’ll do this your way, but they’re going to be even more pissed when they find out we’ve been hiding this from them.”

“We can tell them we took our time getting to know one another. That we wanted to make sure we were both all in.”

“I’m all in, baby. I couldn’t be more in if I tried.”

His words warm my soul. “Me, too. Just a little longer.”

“A little longer,” he agrees, turning into the hospital’s parking lot.

“No way!” Asa yells when Knox and I follow his parents into his room. “That’s Knox Beckett!”

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