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I smile, for real this time. “I know. Just give me some time to wrap my head around everything, okay?”
She nods and stands. “I’m here whenever you need me.”
Before she gets to the door I stop her. “Hey Tess?” She spins around to face me and I continue, “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Ben. He was a great guy.”
She smiles. “It’s okay. I kinda figured you weren’t quite ready yet like you said you were, which is perfect because Ben’s still in love with his ex, so he’s not really ready either. You both were exactly what the other person needed right then.”
Then she turns around and continues heading for the door. As she exits, my assistant, Cooper, stands right outside the door holding a bouquet of gorgeous gardenias.
“These arrived for you. There’s a card tucked in there too,” he says.
Tessa smiles. “Oh, I think I know exactly who these are from.”
I shoot her a look. “Mind your business,” I say with a smile before grabbing the bouquet from Cooper and retreating into my office.
The card is a thick, smooth, cream cardstock, and I half expect there to be printed words on the card—since the bouquet was likely Shawna’s idea—but I’m surprised when I see Dom’s handwriting, a blocky scrawl I’d recognize anywhere.
Thinking about you. Dinner tonight?
I drop to my seat, the card firmly gripped in my fingers and my eyes rereading the words over and over again. I hate the part of me that gets giddy at the idea of Dom going into a flower shop and writing on this little card that he’s thinking of me. That part of me wants this to be real and needs to get a grip on reality. Especially since Dom has never bought a girl flowers in his life.
Unfortunately, this gesture screams Shawna. But I agreed to play along and that’s what I’m going to do.
Pulling my phone out of my desk drawer, I bring up my messages and find our last exchange. My heart pangs a little as I reread a few of our texts. Even now knowing the end of our friendship is looming, there’s an ease to our conversation. But I suppose it’s always been that way with us. Text messages and quiet conversations in the dark of night have always been where we seem to open up to each other the best.
If only I’d been brave enough years ago to confess my true feelings, maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe I’d already have moved on. But I suppose there’s no point in wondering what if. He knows where I stand now and he doesn’t feel the same. This version of Dom I’m experiencing is a lie.
I quickly tap out a text confirming our plans for tonight. Date number two. I don’t know how many dates we’ll end up going on in this charade, but I hope I can survive them all.
Fourteen
“You wanted to see me, Coach?” I ask as I pop my head into Coach Fairbright’s office. She’s the first female defensive coach in Wolves history, and I have a lot of respect for her, but I suspect this is not a visit to pat me on the back for my hard work at practice today.
“Hey Dom, take a seat.” She gestures to the chair across from her. Her tablet is in front of her, but she clicks it off and shoves it to the side. She leans forward, her elbows resting on the edge of her desk, and she folds her hands in front of her face. She wears her long dark hair in a no-nonsense ponytail, her bangs straight. Her hazel eyes don’t give away any emotions to tell me what exactly to expect from this unplanned meeting.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“A couple of things. First, are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah?”
She elaborates. “I mean with all the media stuff going on and the whole thing with Jen Summers. Are you doing okay?”
My shoulders sag. “Yeah, Coach. I’m alright.”
She nods like that’s exactly what she expected me to say even if we both know that’s not the complete truth.
“Alright, then on to the next thing. You’re one of my key players, Dom. You know I respect the hard work you put in on the field.”
She holds up a finger to stop me when I open my mouth to respond. “But,” she continues, “we both know playing for the pros is about more than just what you do on the field. You’re judged just as harshly for what happens off it, and I gotta be honest, you’re not doing yourself any favors with your recent behavior. Do you know how many conversations I’ve had with Denton and how many times I’ve had to convince him not to bench you?”
Coach Denton—our head coach—hasn’t been happy with me for a while, but I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad that Fairbright had to defend me.
Fuck.
She picks up her tablet and clicks it on before spinning it to show me what’s on the screen. It’s the article with the picture of Alayna and me at dinner the other night.
“I don’t know what’s going on with this, but don’t drag that girl down with you, Dom. You either turn it all the way around or stop whatever game this is.”
