Page 72 of The Defender
That was fucking cold.
I grumbled in resignation. At least I could comfort myself with the knowledge that Noah would be right up there with me, hating life.
Coach hesitated. He glanced at my phone, and I was gripped by the sudden fear that he’d comb through my texts. Brooklyn and I had mostly been making small talk for the past week, but if he scrolled up further, he’d definitely find some old flirty messages.
“Have you heard—” He stopped and shook his head. His brow creased into a frown. “Never mind. Don’t forget, we have our run tomorrow. Five a.m. sharp.”
I waited until he left before I let out a loud groan.
I stared at my cell. Like Coach, I also wanted to reach out to Brooklyn.
Unlike him, I knew our inevitable talk wouldn’t mend things—it’d change them completely.
CHAPTER 20
BROOKLYN
“Is it true you turned down the Blackcastle offer?” Henry rolled his chair over to my desk. “If it is, that’sbold, especially since you, like, don’t have another job lined up.”
I stared fixedly at my computer, hoping he’d get the hint and go away. He didn’t. His cologne also reeked of musk—a far cry from Vincent’s subtle, delicious scent.
“Don’t you have work to do?” I asked pointedly.
“Yeah, but I’ll get it done in time. I have to take a break every now and then for maximum productivity.” He leaned closer to me. I sneezed. God,whatwas he wearing? “So? Is it true?”
“It’s really none of your business, but yes, it’s true.” There was no point in lying. I’d officially declined Blackcastle’s offer last week, much to Jones and HR’s shock. Jones had expressed disappointment, but he hadn’t asked any further questions. That alone confirmed I’d done the right thing. If he really wanted me here, he would’ve made some sort of effort to convince me to stay.
Henry whistled. “Wow. What are you going to do then?”
“I’m exploring different options.” By that, I meant I was searching online job sites for anything that looked remotely interesting. So far, no luck.
“Sure, sure. Hey, how’s?—”
“I have to speak to Lizzie about something.” I pushed my chair back and walked out. “I’ll be back.”
I didn’t actually need to speak with the head of Human Resources, but if I didn’t get away from Henry soon, I was going to be arrested for murder.
I breathed in a welcome lungful of cologne-free air as I took a lap around the building. Training was over, and the players’ laughter leaked out from the changing room.
Vincent was in there somewhere.
My steps slowed. We’d texted a few times since he moved out, but we hadn’t talked about anything meaningful. I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact he was gone.
One minute, he was there, strutting around shirtless and almost kissing me in the kitchen. The next, he…wasn’t. He moved out and left a miles-wide void in the flat.
I hated it.
I rounded the corner and bumped right into the last person I wanted to see. I knew who it was by the scuffed trainers alone.
My shoulders stiffened as I looked up at him. “Dad.”
“Brooklyn.”
We eyed each other warily. If this were a movie, there’d be Western showdown music playing in the background.
My dad and I hadn’t exchanged a single word since our fight. We’d never been great at communicating with each other, but the strained tension was new. The air around us stretched thin and taut, like a rubber band on the verge of snapping.
“Jones told me you declined the offer. You’re really leaving,” he said. His voice was impassive.
