Chapter 20: : Chapter 20

“Sonia, um, I brought two meat loaf sandwiches. My mom made them. I thought . . . do you want one?” Skeeter says as we gather around the table in the lounge.

Sonia looks up from the other side of the table, her eyes big. “I—I’m a vegetarian.”

He makes a disgusted sound. “What? Why? This is cow country!”

Nova shifts in her chair next to me, leaning in to watch her best friend and Skeeter. My hand curls between her legs under the table, drawing little patterns on her knee.

Sonia sets down her hunk of broccoli. “I eat clean to prevent heart disease and live longer. Plus, I love animals.”

He takes a bite out of his sandwich and chews, then wipes his mouth. “I like dogs, but we’re talking about chickens and cows and pigs here. There’s a difference. We’re at the top of the food chain for a reason. It’s just instinct to eat ’em.”

Her shoulders stiffen. “You’ve seen me have lunch in here for years. Haven’t you noticed I don’t eat meat?”

He pauses. “Yeah?”

“No, you didn’t!” she says. “And . . . I refuse to debate my choices with you. I do it because I like it, so leave it alone.”

He drops his sandwich and blinks. “Wait . . . are you mad at me? I brought you food!”

“You brought me meat!” she counters.

“That’s what a man does! Jesus ate fish! Lions eat animals! It’s the circle of life! And, and . . . cows might take over the world if we didn’t eat them! I don’t know if that’s true, but there’s a website about it . . .”

My lips twitch, and Nova squeezes my leg to stop her laughter.

“There’s no point in arguing with you,” Sonia says as she gathers up her lunch, her face red as she looks at me and Nova. “Excuse me, guys. I need to go.”

“Where are you going?” Skeeter asks, rising up.

“My special place,” she mutters, then flounces out the door.

Skeeter shakes his head and lifts his hands in exasperation. “What did I do? I thought she’d like a sandwich!”

Nova sighs. “It’s what you didn’t do. You didn’t notice her eating habits. You didn’t ask her to dance at the fundraiser—”

His eyes widen. “Did she want me to?”

Nova nods slowly. “Yes.”

“I assumed she ate real food at home or maybe she was dieting. I didn’t know! And I can’t dance. Even with champagne.” He blows out a breath. “Where is her special place?”

Nova smiles. “The closet by the bathrooms. Oh, and she might be vaping.”

“I thought she wanted to live longer!” he bellows. “Someone needs to make her stop.”

Nova shrugs. “Or you could just meet in the middle and agree to disagree . . .”

“Dammit, women are peculiar.” He gathers his stuff in his box, handling the meat loaf with care. He paces around the lounge for a few moments, then huffs. “I’ll go find her.”

“Take your time if you need to,” I tell him.

He squints at me. “What do you mean? We’ve got practice.”

Nova lets out a groan. “Skeeter! Catch a clue!”

“What?” he yelps.

“Do you like Sonia?” she asks.

He shifts from one foot to the other. He stares at the floor. “She’s pretty. She’s not dating that calculator guy anymore. I was wondering if she wanted to maybe go to the Roadhouse. They have all-you-can-eat wings tonight. I usually wolf down about thirty when I go, but now . . .” He puts his hands on his hips. “I might gross her out.”

Nova smiles. “They have vegetarian options. Go and tell her you’re sorry, and invite her out.”

He exhales, then glances toward the door, a look of determination on his face. “I might be late, Coach.”

We watch him go, then laugh, our heads bending together.

Nova rubs her hands together. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall of that closet. Obviously, the lice incident wasn’t enough to get them together. Maybe this will.”

I gaze down at her upturned face and smile. These past few days with her have been exhilarating. You know those people who shine so bright you gravitate to them, wanting to bask in their warmth? She’s that. A little star.

“Melinda and Andrew didn’t come to lunch today,” she murmurs.

“I know. Good for us.” I kiss her, my hand curling around her nape.

She pulls away slowly. “I need to go check on Caleb and the guys. I left them in my room.”

“I’ll see you at the field house. Dinner at my place? You and Sabine?”

She stands, her hand running over my shoulders. “Sounds good.”

“I can grill. What should I make?”

She pauses, a light growing in her eyes. “Chicken. I want chicken.”

I laugh as she sashays out the door.

After lunch, I’m walking out to the field house when my phone rings.

“Yo, Reggie, how’s it going?” I ask my agent.

“Hey! How are you doing?”

“Great, great. About to head to practice.”

“Sounds good. Hite called me this morning. It’s not official, but Dunbar is going to resign. The drug addiction is all over the media, and they can’t keep a lid on it. There’ll be a press conference in a few days. Hite’s itching to nail you down for the short list.”

“Reggie—”

“Stanford is at the top right now. You could be part of that team and work your way up. Hite will retire in a few years.”

I reach the field and step out on the grass, frowning as I wait for the wave of calm that usually comes on the field, but it doesn’t. Instead, anxiousness tugs at me.

“Ronan? He’ll want to meet with you.”

My hand taps my leg in frustration. “Look, I’m about to play the biggest game of the year next week. I can’t fly to California and interview for a job I don’t really want.”

“Uh-huh. They’ve had a great season, and they’ll get a bowl game. You could be there for it.”

“Reggie . . .”

“Look, I hear the reservation in your voice,” he says. “I get it. I do. You’ve been there for almost two seasons, and you want to finish, but life happens, and shit changes. You can pay out your contract with Blue Belle and go to California.”

Toby sends me a wave as he runs into the field house.

“Ronan?”

“What?” I mutter.

“There’s no harm in getting on the list. You can always say no, right?”

There’s truth in that.

“Okay, fine, add me to the list, but keep it private. I need to go, Reggie.”

“Wait! Ah, well, there’s something else I heard through the grapevine that’s simmering. I don’t have all the deets, but—”

“What? Where?” My gut clenches, and I can’t decide if it’s hope or fear of an opportunity I can’t say no to.

“I’ll get back to you with facts once I get more info.”

“Can you give me a hint?”

“Ah . . . well, it’s close to home.”

“Chicago?”

“No. Look, I’ve said too much already. I don’t want to get your hopes up. I’ll call you soon.”

He clicks off, leaving me annoyed. I stalk out to the center of the field and stare at the Bobcat.

Moving up to the next level is what I want . . .

But . . .

My chest tightens, and I stop and bend over to catch my breath.

It’s going to rip me apart to leave this team—and Nova.