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Ah, shit.
What did I do now?
Before I left, I made sure to get my babysitter’s attention. “We’re talking about this later.”
“Your grades?” Piper made a face at me. “Yeah. We are talking about them later.”
I rolled my eyes but followed after Kassie. Somehow, I had to figure out a way to get Thomas to shut the fuck up and stop bothering Piper. On the way to Ryan, I mulled over different ideas before I landed back on why I was following Kassie in the first place. What did I do? I honestly couldn’t think of anything. I’d been putting in a hundred and ten percent. I even stayed in the gym when Piper needed to go to a coding workshop.
Kassie wove around the tables with me but kept close. "Hey? Adam?”
“Yeah?”
“You know I adore you, right?"
"Damn, you’ve gotten so sentimental." I sighed. "What happened to you, Kassie?"
"Adam…"
I paused. "What is it?"
"Nothing," she said quickly. "I mean—you and Ryan should talk. I’ll watch the door."
Shit.
Did Elijah Contractor squeal? I signed up his personal number for a clown college course, but I was pretty sure he didn’t know that I was the one who did it. Unless Ryan was calling me over about the Clemenza. But even then, wouldn’t it be Coach Lawson?
I pulled open the door and my eyes flickered back to Piper, sitting at our table. I knew she was keeping an eye on things. An eye on me.
“Hey.” Ryan greeted, his voice low. He sat on one of the chairs and motioned me inside.
I closed the door. “Why do I feel like I’m getting called to my execution?”
“Coach called,” Ryan said, in the classic Ryan way of starting a hard conversation by barrel-rolling into it.
“What did Lawson call about?”
Ryan rubbed his jaw. “Not Lawson.”
Oh.
The room was a private study room, but there were still windows showing everything inside and I was all too aware of those gray, sparkling eyes from the table. I rolled back my shoulders, straightening my stance. I didn’t need Piper to see anything.
“Got it,” I said as casually as I could. “What did he want?”
Nice that he called you before calling me.
I fought the wave of jealousy threatening to rear its ugly head. Jealousy and I didn’t mix. I was a professional linebacker at a university where I made royalties off my own name. Technically, I had it better than ninety percent of the student-athletes out there. We just won the Birchwood Bowl. I was Adam fucking Russell. Being jealous didn’t make sense.
But back in high school, I was the kid who got scratched off the football team because I pussied out. And Ryan was still the star quarterback while I was trying to walk again on the treadmill.
Our high school coach never let me forget who his top pick was. I thought I pushed past that.
“I said no, I’m saying that first,” Ryan started and my stomach sank. “But Kassie found some discrepancies with my trainer. I don’t know how, but I guess word got back to coach that I was looking for a new one and he gave me a call. He wanted to know if the job was available.”
Piper’s watching. I can’t lose my cool.
“Understood,” I said.
