Page 36 of Go Deep (A Bad Boy Sports Romance)
14
Slade
Ifeltbad for blowing Cassidy off and pretending I had plans with the football groupies after practice. I actually sort of felt bad for misleading the girls, too. At the beginning of the semester, before I set my sights on Cassidy, their tight little asses would have looked nice bent over the side of my bed. The thing was, I had no intentions of sleeping with those girls. I’d just used them as a cover for what I really had going on after practice.
Work.
Bussing shit tables at a shit restaurant.
The landlord was still riding my ass, using me as slave labor for the after dinner shift on most nights. I didn’t want my coach, Cassidy or anyone else to know what I was doing. I was finally starting to get the hang of the long days too, so practices were better, and as long as I got a decent six hours of sleep, I could handle sitting in lectures and focusing. Unfortunately, that did mean having to cut a class every once in a while to catch up on sleep. I didn’t mind a few missed classes if it meant I’d do better at our games on Saturday night.
I got to the restaurant today, and was grateful again that I wasn’t waiting tables or working in the kitchen. The place was always packed, so the kitchen and wait staff were always busy. All I had to worry about was making sure the tables were clean after the guests left. I wasn’t on the clock, and I wasn’t on the books. Still, when I made it down here, I was on the floor, and I had to earn my keep so the landlord wouldn’t make life difficult.
The only thing that bothered me about the job was how popular the place was. It wasn’t exactly upscale, but everyone ate there, including college students. It was strange how wearing a certain uniform made people shut off and forget where they knew me from. That was probably the reason no one had called me out yet, but the chance was always there. The only people who knew were my frat brothers, and they were doing a much better job at keeping my job quiet than they were with the bet over Cassidy, thankfully. The humiliation of being found out would stick around until I’d pay for the damages at the frat house and wrap up this gig with a pretty little bow—preferably before Thanksgiving.
Today, I was sure that all came crashing down.
“Slade?”
The voice came from behind me as I was clearing a table of half a dozen beer pitchers. Miranda was sitting at a table with a group I could only guess were from her major, whatever that was. They certainly weren’t cheerleaders. I smiled inside for a split second. They probably thought Miranda was the coolest one among them.
“Hey,” I said. I could tell by the faces at the table that no one with her recognized me. Thank God for academics and nerds.
“What are you doing here? Wait, do youworkhere?”
“Nah. I’m just helping out the frat house landlord. Actually I’ve got a quick favor to ask.” I motioned for her to come with me. This shit needed to be discussed minus the audience, just in case she blurted out my name or said something stupid.
“I’ll be right back, guys,” she told her friends, getting up to follow me to the hallway that led to the patron restrooms.
“You did not see me here, okay?”
“Okay I didn’t. What’s going on?”
“That fight at the frat house was expensive.”
“What fight?” Then it dawned on her, because I vaguely remember her being there. “Ohhhhh…thatfight.”
“Yeah. So I’m working off the damages, but it’sreallyhush-hush. The Coach can’t know, so don’t breathe a word to anyone, including Cassidy.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“Only if I don’t show up here for the landlord… but that’s not your problem. Whatwillbe your problem is if anyone finds out about this, okay? So far you’re the first person to recognize me.”
“I don’t know, Slade. What if it affects your game? The Coach would definitely want to know. Maybe he can help.”
It had already affected my game once, but I wasn’t about to admit that to her. I was working as hard as I could to make sure of that. I was rearranging my schedule so that work wouldn’t interfere with my performance, and I was practicing harder so it would take more to bring me off my game. Still, that damn running play haunted me. No one had forgotten, and there was more to do to prove the mishap was behind me.
“It won’t affect my game, Miranda. And it’s not anything Coach can help me with. In the meantime, I need you to forget you saw me here tonight.”
She hesitated. Why the hell was she hesitating? I had no time for this crap.
I put a hand on her shoulder. “You just go ahead and do whatever you think is right. I’ve got more tables to bus.”
I left her standing there as I delivered the dishes to the dishwasher in the back. Then, I was back out on the floor for more. It was pretty obvious that with Miranda now in on my little secret, Cassidy would find out sooner or later. It was bound to come up. To do a bit of damage control, I told her waiter to put their bill on my tab and I’d pay with a credit card. Later on, when I cleared Miranda’s table after they left, I found a note written on a folded up receipt.
Your secret’s safe with me.
It worked. I’d been able to buy her silence with dinner. That didn’t happen every day.
