Page 98 of Striking Heat
I nod, understanding what he’s saying. But it doesn’t make me feel any better about it, because I know she’s hurting. It’s been a rough day for both of us. She has no idea how bad it is for me, because I haven’t told her yet. I wanted her to be able to focus on her game. There will be time to tell her that I was fired from my job later. I’ll have a lot more free time to explain all of that to her.
The game wraps up, and I couldn’t be happier that on today of all days, I will be permitted to go to her and touch her. Hold onto her and tell her it’s okay. That she played good and hard. But when I run those words through my head, they sound trite. I probably won’t say any of them. I just want to hold her at this point.
“You know, man, I think your article may have helped. The stands are a bit more packed, and I’m seeing more Blaze apparel. We’re playing the Pride, so it’s hard to say that doesn’t play a role in it, but…”
“Good, I hope I helped. At least I can say I did some good in my journalism career.”
“You really think it’s over?” August shoots me a look of concern.
I sigh. “I don’t know. If anyone asks, I’d have to tell them whyI left the Tampa Bay Times, and it would come up. And if they called Martin to see what happened, he’d be more than happy to tell them all about it.” I can’t blame him. I’ve gotta take responsibility for it.
“Want me to see if I can help you get something?” he offers.
My head snaps over. “Are you talking about with the team?”
He chuckles. “No, I’m not an idiot. My dad would never go for it. But I could find you something else.”
“You don’t have to do that, man,” I reply.
“Oh, I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”
We bump fists and then he says, “Come on, let’s go see your girl. She could probably use a hug right about now.”
I look down at the field and see her talking to Cassie. Her head is hung low, and I don’t even see a smile on her beautiful face.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
~DANNY~
August guides me down to the field level. Normally, we don’t go this far, but I think he can tell Mac might need me on the field and that I’d like to get to her too. I want to pull her into my arms and hold onto her. Take her worries and the disappointment of losing the game, getting the card, all of it, away.
We walk onto the field, and I take a minute to look at it. It’s beautiful. The Blaze logo in the middle. The seats with their alternating colors. Even though it was a loss, you can feel the electricity in the air. There’s always an energy when you’re stepping onto a playing field. I can feel it here too.
My eyes search for her, but I can’t seem to find her with all the Blaze players, staff, and Pride players on the field. August has stepped off to the side now, giving me space to be with her. He got me to the field, which was what I needed. Now he’s letting me have some time alone with her. I look back and nod my thanks. He just winks at me and heads back into the tunnel.
I can always tell when she’s near. Always could since that first night I laid eyes on her. It’s like there’s a shift in the air when she appears. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I turn around and Cassie steps to the side, showing her to me. Istand there waiting for her. She’s with her team, and I don’t want to intrude, though my feet want nothing more than to walk over there and haul her into my arms.
Cassie points me out to her, and she comes rushing over. Flying into my arms, I grab hold of her and hug her tightly.
“Hey, baby, how are you?” I ask her before kissing her neck and the top of her head. I hold her tightly and feel her gripping me just as tight. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she says in a small voice. “That game sucked.”
“You did good. You really did. Don’t even give it a second thought. It’s over. Let’s move on and worry about the next one.” That’s what my coach always said to me when I had a bad swim. I hope it helps her too.
She just nods and clings to me. My arm starts to feel wet, and I realize her shoulders are shaking. She’s crying. I pull her back so that I can see her eyes.
“What’s all this? What’s wrong?”
She sighs and wipes at her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” I ask her. For a second, I get a sinking feeling in my gut that she’s sorry because we’re over, but it can’t be it. Not the way she keeps on touching me. Her hands are anchored to my arms.
“I’m sorry for crying, I guess,” she says with a giggle.
“Please don’t apologize for crying, baby. It’s okay. I’m here now. I’m going to take care of you.”
