Page 25 of My Secret Bandit

“So are you if you’ve been standing around waiting for me.”

Be cool. Be casual.

The mantra I’d been repeating since I exited the freeway mentally chimed as Sierra waved me off.

“Don’t worry about what I’m doing. Tell me about last night!”

I gave her a small airy shrug before moving toward the hall lined with our offices. “Not much to tell. We had dinner, nice conversation. I had a good time.”

She walked backward in front of me and wagged a finger in the air between us. “I know you, Jamie Flynn, and vague does not suit you.”

Grabbing her by the shoulders, I gave her a stern look. “Sierra. Everyone in this office makes a living off writing about athletes, remember? I cannot and will not talk about this here.”

In all her drama queen glory, Sierra left with a loud groan and her head laid back toward the ceiling.

“What’s that about?”

Oh, hell! One more time. Cool & casual.

Since he probably blamed me for getting benched—just like I did—I figured it’d be best to avoid Kyle for a while. That idea was stupid, really. Considering the new offices Jeffrey secured for us shared a wall.

“Oh. Hey. I… um… I didn’t see you there.”

“And yet that’s not unusual for you,is it, Jamie?“ His voice so noticeably laced with contempt probably would have wounded me on any other day. But after being with Mateo, loving how he treated me andfinallyfeeling good, I couldn’t let him talk to me with so much hate in his voice.

“Still salty, I see. Wanna explain why? Better yet, Kyle. How ’bout you hop off my dick and back into whatever self-absorbed hole you crawled out of today.” I turned, leaving him speechless and fuming.

What the fuck, woman?! So much for the mantra.

Normally, I’d never talk to anyone that way, and for a split second I thought about apologizing. Instead, I left for practice, knowing there would be no unintentional run-ins with him there.

The last strand of our civility shriveled up the second he saw Mateo and I talking at practice. Then it dug its own grave and jumped in when Mateo kissed my cheek. I just hadn’t realized it.

Preoccupied with removing myself from the suffocating sneer of Kyle, I hadn’t realized the pre-practice media time wouldn’t start for a while.

Pulling out my phone, I killed time by working on my piece in the parking lot. Summarizing this week’s game against New Orleans, laying out expert predictions, stats of each team and key players to watch.

*text notification*

My stomach did cartwheels asFuture Husbandscrolled across the screen. Setting aside my work, I opened the message.

Mateo: Hey. How’s work?

Me: Honestly? Not the best.

Mateo: Why? What’s up?

My fingers struggled to pull together a response.

Do I tell him the truth, that I left because I needed an escape from Kyle?

That I didn’t feel like writing in the stuffy confinement of my office?

Or that my focus was lacking considering I skipped coffee?

Mateo: Jameson. What happened?

With his message grabbing my attention, I gave him an honest answer.

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