Page 77 of The Wedding Deal
All of the above.
Even if she gave him another chance, he wasn’t sure how he’d fit in dates or find the time to be in a relationship. To console himself, he told himself they’d been doomed from the start. That it was for the best.
But as he answered the phone and walked away from her, he felt every inch of distance, and each one of them felt so damn wrong.
It was the worst kind of torture to realize he’d have to constantly see her and deal with the knowledge he no longer could hold her hand or kiss her. That she’d never be curled up next to him in bed, her head on his shoulder.
That she’d never be his again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It’d been easy enough to stay busy. Over the past week and a half, he’d had countless meetings and phone calls. He’d traveled in zigzag patterns across the US and had several potential employees flown to headquarters. A new offensive and defensive coordinator were in place, every last vacant position was filled, and suddenly Draft Day was here.
The team was coming together, slowly but surely, and if the Mustangs got even 50 percent of the players they wanted today, they’d be well on their way. Thanks to a trade late last season that his grandpa had made—one he wouldn’t have, but that was neither here nor there, and after securing Frost it might just work out in their favor—they had the number four pick, too.
Most of the staff was gathered in the war room, including Charlotte, who’d set up in the farthest corner from him, way up top on the back row of the tiered seats. Lance had glanced at her a few times, always finding her looking down at her laptop. Or super focused on her coffee and the jug of creamer she’d brought into the room with her.
Definitely not at him. Never at him.
“Ooh, cracker me,” Coach Bryant said, holding his hand out for some of her Texas-shaped crackers as he walked past her. Somehow she managed to pour a few into his palm without lifting her head enough to possibly catch sight of him in even her peripheral vision.
The two of them seemed close already, not in a way that made him romantically jealous, but every time she laughed at the coach’s jokes—or hell, just the fact that she talked to him—Lance understood the phrase “green with envy” all too well. It made him sick to his stomach, and yet he also experienced a clashing surge of relief that she could laugh and talk with someone.
He certainly couldn’t.
He was avoiding calls with his family, except for one misguided conversation he’d had with Mitch that hadn’t ended up being as safe or as comforting as he’d expected.
Just look at me, dammit. I’ll… I don’t know. Wave?
Solid plan. That’ll win her over for sure.
Of course he wanted to be the one Charlotte was laughing and talking with, but as he’d told himself again and again, he’d lost that right. Had no one to blame but himself.
The clock up front showed they had seven minutes until the start of the draft.
Coach Bryant finished his descent to the front of the room, slapping his hands together to wipe off cracker bits before clapping Lance on the back. “Nervous, Quaid?”
“Not at all. You?”
“Nope.” Bryant crossed his arms and cast him a sidelong glance. “A team that lies together stays together, right?”
A chuckle slipped out. Dang guywasfunny. “Let’s hope so. I don’t want to ever have to build this team from the ground up again.” His gaze slipped to Charlotte, and he couldn’t help thinking that if he did have to, she’d never agree to come along for the ride. An internal shudder went through him at the thought of having to go about it without her. When he dragged his attention back to Coach Bryant, it was clear he’d been caught staring.
“Ever gonna tell me what that’s all about?”
Lance shoved his hands in his pockets and focused on the timer. For some reason it seemed like it was ticking away more minutes of his life without Charlotte rather than heading toward exciting possibilities. “I’m not contractually allowed.”
“Girl does love her paperwork and contracts,” Bryant said with a laugh. The humor faded from his features, and he widened his stance, planting his hands on his hips in a classic coaching position that made Lance feel like he was about to get told which play to make. At this point, he’d consider anything he thought might actually work. “She’s also pretty tight-lipped about it, but even the new guys can tell that there’s some unresolved shit between you two.”
“That’s rich, you calling themthe new guys.”
“Hey, I was here for a good three days before our GM arrived, and a whole week before the rest. I’m old hat compared to these babies.”
Lance managed a smile, one he hoped saidvery clever, but Charlotte’s off-limitsat the same time.
“Me, I’m a never-say-die kind of guy. If your usual play isn’t working, it’s time to change it up. Go bigger. I’ve always been a fan of the flea flicker. Or there’s the hitch and go.” Bryant raised an eyebrow. “Fake spike? I’m kind of hoping that’s what you’re doing. Pretending to give up, but then you pop up and throw that amazing Hail Mary pass and clinch the girl.”
Was this guy for real?
