Page 34 of Shape Of My Heart
Chapter9
Josh wasthankful to whatever angel or magical force that had given him the strength, mindset, and comfort to give a goodinterview.
He’d sat with the lead players in his team, and while Bob Jacobe, the TV presenter, asked the questions, Josh answered them as if they were nothing to him and mingled like he hadn’t been out of the game and the loop formonths.
He managed to evade questions about his family and even offered a very brief statement about how he felt. When asked how he was feeling about this season, he’d simply said he was hoping it would be better than the last and that it was a very sad time for him. He hoped to get through so that he could focus on the next seasonwholeheartedly.
He’d actually looked directly at Amy as he said that, as if he was answering one of her questions in their preparation sessions. She’d sat with Zelda in the studio audience, holding onto the ends of her ponytail and looking at him with that tense edge. She was most likely hoping he’d be able to keep up and not fall asleep again. He supposed that whatever they were paying her must have been worth all the shit she’d had to put up with. Desperation was what he saw in her earlier. Pure, raw desperation, like it was a matter of survival. The other day she’d gone on this tirade about him needing her, but today she looked like she neededhimtoo.
He couldn’t complain since it was true—he needed her and, admittedly, found comfort in herpresence.
Even he would have filed himself to the back of the shelf as a total lost cause. But she didn’t give up on him. She pushed the limits and did what it took to get the job done, regardless of the cost. He didn’t know what drove her and what she was getting out of it, but whatever it was had gotten him here and savedhisass.
Last night had been terrible. It really did a number on him and he was feeling weak from it. He’d lost control in the worst way and succumbed to the grief that beckoned him to give up. Thinking rationally was the last thing onhismind.
He remembered drinking everything he could get his hands on and calling the escort service to send him strippers and escorts. They came and they left. He couldn’t remember the in-betweendetails.
It really was a miracle that he was here today, and he had to push the trigger for last night out ofhismind.
Clarissa’sbirthday.
He tried not to think about her or his mother while he gave the interview. He had to take them out ofhismind.
The whole day went well and he enjoyed hanging out with the guys. It almost felt like the good old days. The days where he was himself and all he cared about was playing a good game and winning. They made arrangements to meet up next Wednesday. Josh thought he could sticktothat.
He knew Amy had made some arrangements for him to do all that public appearance stuff, but he could fit this in too. Training started in a month and he wanted to get himself ready for that. Part of getting ready for training was bonding with his team. Reconnecting with them. It was one of the many things he liked and appreciated about them. That strong friendship they had made them play better, as if they all shared the same mind, and often times knew each other’s thoughts well enough to make those split-second decisions that everyone followed, which he’d seen wingames.
As the day drew to an end and he realized he would have to go back to his house, depression set inagain.
He followed Amy to her car when he said goodbye to the guys. She walked ahead of him in silence with no acknowledgementwhatsoever.
He squeezed into the little green Volkswagen beside her, cursing the size of the car as he tried to adjust himself. He didn’t like cars like this. They weren’t made for him. The fit was wrong, the interior,everything.
Josh scowled as his head hit the roof when he tried to lean back and she looked acrossathim.
He looked at her, too, and held her gaze. She was mad as hell at him, really mad. It was understandable. He knew it couldn’t have been easy to get him here, and here he was dressed in his suitandhere.
“I’m not going to apologize so don’t look at me like that. You deserved the bitch slap.” She shook her head in dismay, causing her ponytail to bobble across her shoulderblades.
He’d noticed her use of words had expanded as the days had gone by. Just the other day she chided him for swearing and here she was talking about bitch slaps. Earlier she said she’d had to put up with his crazy shit. Clearly, he wasn’t good for a sweet girllikeher.
“Yes,” he agreed, to her surprise. “And don’t apologize, it wouldn’t suit you.” He gazed deep into those beautiful green eyes of hers, and just like the other day found himself lostwithinthem.
“Give me back my concealer.” She stretched her dainty hand outtohim.
That thing saved his life. He looked like he’d been in a fight by the time she finished withhisface.
“It’s in my ass somewhere, come and get it.” He smiledather.
She narrowed her gaze and looked at him like she could kill him. There was no answer from her, she just turned her head, looked out to the studio exit, and drovethroughit.
The anger rippled off her in waves, creating a tense atmosphere that was so thick he was sure he could touch it. He imagined that if this were a cartoon it would literally be a hazy fume of black and redsurroundingher.
He looked at her through the corner of his eyes and took his time to run his eyes over the full length of her body. He really liked what she was wearing today: a black business dress that did a serious job of showing off her very fine assets. Her delicate shoulders were defined in all the right places, but his favorite part was her breasts. Now when he looked he didn’t have to try to remember what theyfeltlike.
He would have avoided the hard nudge she placed in his side if he hadn’t been so captivated by lookingather.
“Stop checking me out, youcreepyman,” she balked, driving straight through a red light. “Damnit.”
