Page 92 of Player Misconduct
I lean over the booth to grab my things and Tarron reaches over to grab his wallet and phone.
“So that’s the one, huh?”
“The one what?” Though I know exactly what he means.
“The father. Aleksi Mäkelin. Didn’t peg you for being into foreign guys. I thought you liked the all-American type.”
I roll my eyes as I drop my phone into my purse and zip it up. “You mean you?”
He grins, sliding his wallet into his back pocket and his cell phone into his front. “Just saying.”
“You better not be sitting on your wallet in the car, it’s going to screw up your alignment.” I tell him like a broken record of what I used to harp on him about back when we were married.
“I won’t,” he grins as if me stating the obvious means I still care.
“And as far as my tastes, they’ve changed since I left the NFL.” I meet his eyes. “I don’t date cheating assholes anymore.”
His grin falters. “I’m not that guy anymore, Kendall. If you’d just give me a chance to prove it—”
“I think our story’s a little worn out, don’t you?” I swing my purse over my shoulder, grasping with one hand at the thick leather strap to anchor me to something. “It’s time we both move on. If we keep our mouths shut, this baby story gives you your second chance and buys me enough time to stay out of hot water until maternity leave. Don’t make it worse. Please, for once in your life… do something decent for me. You owe me that much.”
He looks at me for a long time, then says quietly, “For what it’s worth, I still love you.”
I pause, my heart heavy and unflinching. “If that’s true, then do what I’m asking. Keep your mouth shut, and let me go. Because the only thing you’re capable of doing is hurting me again. Stop pretending like you don’t already know that.”
Then I turn and walk toward the back door.
“Kendall…” I hear Aleksi’s voice running behind me.
I turn to see him coming straight for me.
“I’m sorry. I acted like an ass in there. I just… seeing him look at you like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like he still thinks he’s got a shot to get you back, calling you his wife in that interview, I lost it. That’s my problem, not yours.”
I understand how he feels. I remember the feeling of seeing the pictures of him with his sister thinking it was his new girlfriend. I know what that kind of panic feels like.
“I’m not mad…” I say though I’m still annoyed because they could have made this whole thing worse. “I’m just–”
“I know.” He says, taking a step forward and offers up his hands. I take them. “Can I make it up to you?” he asks, a careful smile pulling up at the corner of his mouth. “Tomorrow night?”
“You want to make it up to me? How?”
The thought of what he did in my office awhile back would do the trick, but I’m not telling him that. I’d like to know what he has in mind.
“A date? My place? I’ll cook, you just come.”
“A date?” I ask, unable to stop my only smile from forming.
“We kind of jumped ahead a few steps with the baby. But I realized that I’ve been trying to give you space and I’ve never taken you out on a real date.”
“Yeah… okay. A date.”
He takes a step forward and kisses my forehead.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
