Page 106 of Powerless
Beau is laughing when Harvey cuts me off. “We love you two hooligans! Bye!”
And then the image cuts out with a monotone whoosh.
When I glance down, Sloane is laughing hard enough that tears are gathering in her eyes as she wipes them away with the back of her hand. “Goddamn. Harvey is a beast.”
“Never mind Beau. Harvey is dead,” I joke, knowing I’ll never follow through on it.
“Hey, Jas?”
“Yeah?” I tip my head and look down at the woman who has rotated to press her body against mine.
“Have you really been creeping on me from under that cap?”
I shrug and pull her head against my chest. In the same spot I always do—pressing her to my heart and dusting my lips over her hair. “I mean, Sunny . . . have you seen your ass?”
“You’re not supposed to be here, Gervais. Hasn’t been two weeks. I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see you.” Roman drops his attention back down to the papers in his hands as he tries to edge past me down the back hallway of our practice facility.
“Well, I am. And you need me, Coach.”
“Don’t tell me what I need, Jasper. That’s not your job.”
“We’ve been on a losing streak.” Like he doesn’t know. He’s the one who sits on the bench, watching it all happen. For me, I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch. Too hard. Too maddening.
“Yup.” He pops thep, still not giving me his attention. “And we were losing when you were playing too.”
“I need to play. You need me to play—”
The older man stops right in front of me, his brow quirking speculatively as he cuts me off. “No, I need thebetterversion of you who has his head screwed on straight. And you need these last few days on your time out to do it.”
“Time out? What am I? A seven-year-old?”
Roman shakes his head, glancing back down at whatever super interesting shit must be on the paper in front of him. “Sometimes it feels like all of you are just a bunch of seven-year-olds.”
I almost laugh.
“They found him. He’s alive.”
At that, Coach’s head snaps up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I can’t stop the bashful grin that twists my lips.
“Well, heck yes, Jasper.” Roman smiles, crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes. “That’s the best fucking news I’ve heard in ages.”
He claps my shoulder once. Twice. And tugs me in for a gruff hug before pulling away, one hand on each shoulder to really look me in the eye.
“I want to play.”
He nods. “You been training?”
I doubt Roman would consider a boys versus girls game of shinny—plus a record amount of fucking—training, but exercise is exercise so I say, “Yeah.”
He eyes me speculatively, and I train my face to not give anything away. It’s not the first time I’ve bent the truth with management.
They tell me not to ride horses in my contract too. Doesn’t stop me from getting up and helping with the branding every summer and working cattle for the family reunion in the fall though.
I’m not as good as Rhett or Cade—or Violet—but I’m still a country boy at heart. I can saddle a horse and herd a cow.
“Alright. You come to practice and training for the next three days. Show me your focus is back and I’ll let you play.”
