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I can’t help but continually look in her direction, studying her for any sign that she’s okay with all this.
“Dude,” Sam hisses beside me when we have an incredibly rare moment to ourselves. It’s been a constant barrage of people trying to make conversation with the new head coach, and frankly, it’s been exhausting.
“What?” I snip at her.
“Stop staring at her. You’re not fooling anybody. She’s fine, just playing the part,” Sam says.
I take her at her word. They’re best friends, and theoretically Sam knows adult Jolene better than I do. Even though I sense there’s something else at play, I can’t do anything about it right this second anyway.
Time slows to a crawl as I try my best to focus on the reason why I’m here. I’m meeting some of the top fans of the Vegas Aces for the first time tonight, and my only goal is to schmooze them and make them feel like I know what the fuck I’m doing. They all want to know whether I’ll do things the same way Thompson would have, but the truth is that I won’t. I’m not him, and I have my own coaching style that Jack Dalton believed was a good fit for this team. And if there’s anybody who has the best interests of this team at his core, it’s Jack Dalton.
Instead of schmoozing, though, I’m looking across the room at my girlfriend like a lovesick little puppy.
She seems to have shaken it off. She’s interviewing people, recording sound bites, taking names. She’s beautiful as I watch her do her thing—something she’s clearly very passionate about from the way she intently listens to whoever she’s talking to and from the questions she poses to dig a little deeper.
Meanwhile I’m over here trying to pull myself together and put on an act I no longer think is a very good idea.
Maybe Sam and I should have a public falling out, too.
I have to keep reminding myself why we’re doing this. I have to play nice with all members of the media, and if I’m fucking one of them and the rest find out, they’ll assume she’s getting special treatment. That will only fuck her over harder since she’s the woman vying for a position in a male-dominated field. She deserves better than that.
She deserves respect for how hard she worked to earn that position.
I spot Rivera out of the corner of my eye, and I see him watching her, too.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand right up. I don’t trust that guy, and I fear for what he might be capable of.
There’s something in his eyes that I can see even from where I stand as he watches her, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. He’s jealous she got the job over him, for sure. But it seems like something else might be at play, and I make a mental note to ask her about it—along with their history—later.
Eventually the evening comes to a close, thankfully. Jolene and I weren’t able to steal away a moment for the two of us, but with Rivera here, there were two too many eyes watching our every move. Maybe at the next event.
If I’m lucky enough to still have her in my life at that point.
The driver takes us back to Sam’s place, but Jolene isn’t back yet. I check my phone a few times only to find there’s still no reply from her.
I feel a little sick as I make my way home. We had a plan. She’s supposed to take Sam’s car to my place. It’ll stay parked in the driveway all night so it looks like Sam is spending the night here.
But it’ll really be her, and it’ll give us a chance to talk through what went down tonight.
It’ll give us the chance to decide together if we’re going to keep up the ruse or if there’s some other way that would make more sense.
I know one thing, though. I’m not giving up on her anytime soon.
I’m in way too deep for that.
Eventually a text comes through from her a full hour after I arrive back home.
I made sure to change her contact name just in case anyone happens to catch a glance when she’s messaging me.
Lorraine: I’m okay. On my way in Sam’s car.
I had her in there as Gridiron Blonde for a minute, but eventually I changed it to her middle name. Nobody here knows her by JoLo anyway, so this feels safe.
I wait by the door, and she has a hood pulled up over her hair as she exits the car. I keep my front lights off to make sure nobody can get a clear shot of her, but nobody’s parked across the street tonight anyway.
It’s her first time in my house, but I don’t give her the chance to look around. Not when I need her mouth on mine. To that end, I usher her into the dark entry, and the second the door closes behind her, I pin her up against it with my hips. “God, I missed you.” My lips fall to hers, and she lets out a little moan before she gathers my shirt in her fists and pushes me back a bit.
“I need a minute,” she murmurs, and I back immediately off as alarm bells ring in my head.
