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We weren’t exactly quiet last night, but I also don’t see anyone confronting either of us about it. Nobody is going to ask the coach if he was having sex last night, and equally, nobody is going to ask the reporter if she was busy getting down last night.
So we’re professional when we’re not alone, but when it’s just the two of us, we can celebrate what we’ve found together.
His words from last night play on repeat in my mind.
You own me.
Get ready for a lifetime.
I wish we could get ready for a lifetime together, but we’re teetering on this bridge and I’m starting to fear that the only way down is a crash landing.
The two weeks in California pass in the blink of an eye. I spend my days when I’m not interviewing players or coaches either drafting stories or taking notes for podcast material and story material for VG-oh-three, I spend my evenings video chatting with my son, and I spend my nights wrapped in the coach’s arms.
He usually slips in when I’m already asleep and he’s gone before I wake, and we were only intimate that one time the first night here, but it seems like we did a fairly good job of hiding what’s really going on between the two of us.
Or so I thought.
We’re boarding the bus back home, and Austin slides into the seat beside me again.
“How was your time at our training camp?” he asks. He’s being friendly, and he’s one of the players who has been the easiest to interview over the last two weeks.
“Great. Yours?”
“Exhausting.” He nods out the window at the vineyard we’re about to leave. “But you saw it all go down. Did you get some good footage?”
I nod. “And excellent interviews.” I tap my laptop sitting conveniently on my lap, and he smiles.
Once the bus is in motion, he turns the conversation from small talk to something else.
“I like you, Jolene,” he begins. “And that’s why I wanted to tell you about the rumors going around about you.”
My brows dip together. “Rumors?”
He clears his throat. “People are saying you and the coach are a thing.”
“Me? And Lincoln?” I make a pfft sound as if that’s the most ridiculous notion anyone has ever said. “You know our families are basically enemies, right?”
“Yeah, that’s the story, and that’s why people think you’re both being so secretive about it.”
I shake my head even as my heart races that we’ve been outed. Caught. “It’s been ingrained in me my entire life to hate him and his family,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Besides, why would I risk my career on something like that?”
“How would it be risking your career?”
“My integrity, for one thing. People already assume I got this job by sleeping my way there, which I most certainly did not. But could you imagine the scandal if it broke that we were an item?” I make a face and shake my head. “No thanks. Add on top of that how focused he is on the season and the team and doesn’t need these rumors abounding, never mind the fact that he’s actually already in a relationship with my roommate, and I’d just really appreciate if you could put a stop to those rumors when you hear them.”
“Right.” He nods, and he clears his throat. “I’d probably be inclined to believe you despite the defensive tone, but the truth is…your curtains were open this morning, and a few of us saw him in your room.”
“Yeah, because his hot water went out.” I roll my eyes. “It’s nothing more, Austin.” I say the words quietly, forcefully, urgently.
He nods. “Okay. Then go on a date with me.”
“Oh, Austin, that’s really sweet, but—”
He tilts his head and interrupts me. “But.”
I sigh. The only way he’s going to believe me is if I accept, and I suppose one date with a player is less egregious than dating the coach. At least nobody will assume I got the job because of a second-string tight end. I’ll spend the night talking about my son and the six-year age difference between Austin and me to scare him off, and things will be fine.
“Fine. I’d love to.” I offer a tight smile.
