Page 32 of The Silent Count
“I thought you were asleep.”
His lips curl together as he shakes his head. “I never sleep well the night before a game. You’d think after six years in The League, I’d be used to pregame jitters by now, but it turns out they only get worse with time.”
“Must be even more nerve-racking now that you’ve made yourself a household name.”
“You have no idea.” He shakes his head with a huffed laugh as he walks over and turns to place his towel on the wooden bench. I physically have to peel my eyes away from gawking at the perfectly defined muscles on his upper back. “Sometimes I wish I could go back to my first season playing and relive it all over again. When I was so damn excited to have just made it to the pros, and didn’t have the weight of the team on my back or the need to worry about playing well to secure another contract.”
Fortune ambles up the steps, then crouches down to sit against the edge of the hot tub before sliding all the way in. He lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a moan and a groan, and I swallow. Ashamed at how much something so simple has such a big effect on me.
“Why are you still awake?”
“I don’t know… I guess I just have a lot on my mind lately.”
“Like what? Tell me what’s going on in the mind of Lea Sterling.”
This is my chance.
I could easily use this as my opportunity to tell him he is what’s been on my mind lately. The opportunity is sitting right in front of me and the desire to reach out in front of me and snatch it like a wad of cash left on the street is overwhelming. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out.
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
He’s already told me he’s nervous about tomorrow’s game and adding another heavy blow to his plate right now will only make it worse. Butgod, I’m exhausted from playing mental gymnastics over this situation. From tiptoeing around him for weeks and filtering myself so I don’t accidentally slip up.
I take all of five seconds to decide that I’m going to tell him Monday after work. Not a second later.
Fuck waiting until after Thanksgiving. Fuck worrying about whether this conversation will have a negative impact his game—he’ll have six days to get over it if he’s pissed. And we’ll only have seven more regular season games, so if he hates me for lying to him, then we’ll only have four months before his contract is up with the Matrix. Aside from the last few weeks, we’ve spent the last three years with minimal contact at work. It can’t be that hard to go back to the way things used to be, can it?
“I’ve been thinking about my job.” It’s not entirely a lie. “Reminiscing on the last half a decade and wondering what it would be like if I ever had to give up my career working in the sports world, and transitioned to another industry instead.”
“Are you thinking about quitting?” Concern washes over his face.
“Not exactly. I love working for the Matrix, and getting to see my dad every day. This was my dream job as a kid, and I’m so lucky. It feels wrong to complain, but….”
“Sometimes our dream jobs aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, huh?”
“You say that like you know from experience.” I repeat the words he said to me the first time he came to my office and talked about his father.
He gives me a half-smile, but there’s a resigned look in his eyes. “I might know a thing or two.”
“I hate to complain about something I wanted so badly, but this season has just been difficult for me.” Tension dissolves from my shoulders as a long sigh eases out of me. “My first season, I think we had two minor scandals. But everyone was on their best behavior because it was my first year and my dad put the fear of god in the players daily.” A laugh rumbles in my chest as I’m reminded of the memory. “It’s half the reason I became friends with Abel. That was his rookie year, yet he was the only person who had the guts to tell me my dad was scaring anyone.”
“And now you’re the reason he’s with Scarlett.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
I never talk about the secret master plan Dad and me drummed up one afternoon to drive the two of them together. We were both there when the two of them met, and it was painfully obvious Abel was taken with her from the start. He just needed a little push to get there, but I’ve been sparing about who I share that information with. I know they have their speculations, but I haven’t even come clean to Scarlett and Abel yet.
I say nothing in response, but it doesn’t matter because Fortune continues talking, “Remember the time you told me about how you helped plan an entire date for them so Abel could win her back?” Fortune throws his head back, and his roaring laugh floods my ears. “I still can’t believe that you got her to agree to go on a date with October to trick her into going to the restaurant.”
I…
I never tell anyone that story. Obviously, Mae and Scarlett know, but they don’t know Fortune well enough to have talked with him about it. Aside from them, the only person I’ve ever told is…
I’m frozen in place.
Wait.
Did he just say, “Remember the time ‘you’ told me…”?
