“Yeah, man, you gotta end that shit.”
I wanted to punch something. I didn’t want to end things with Georgia. Hell, things were just starting. There wasn’t really much to end, and yet the thought of not seeing her anymore made my stomach twist.
“I know.”
“I don’t,” Brooke said. “I don’t understand why he has to end things.”
“Rule number one for a running back: don’t drop the ball. Rule number two? Don’t date the coach’s daughter,” Griff told her.
I heard skin hit skin and Griff shout, “Ow!”
“That is not a rule.” I could almost picture Brooke smacking his arm and rolling her eyes.
Despite the shitty situation, I cracked a smile. “It totally is. Right after that is rule number three: don’t skip practices. Looks like I’m oh for three.”
It was Griff’s turn to groan. “Man, if you would just tell everyone the truth instead of covering—”
“Not having this fight again. It is what it is at this point.”
“Yeah, but—”
I cut him off again. “My privacy, our privacy, is more important than what people think about me. You and the guys know the truth. That’s all I care about. I couldn’t give a shit what the other guys on the team think about me.”
“But what they think of you is based on a lie. How’s that fair?” Brooke’s voice was pleading, and I felt a stab of guilt.
She and Griff, the rest of the guys, they all just cared about me. It was a hell of a lot more than I deserved most of the time, and a fuck of a lot more than I got growing up. “Life isn’t ever fair for me.”
She sighed, and I knew that I’d won the argument, at least for tonight. “Sucks.”
“So, did Coach Reed say anything to you about not dating his daughter?” Griff asked.
I shook my head to the empty cab of my truck. “Nope. He did stare daggers at me for the entire meal, his cheeks an unhealthy shade of red, and when Georgia announced we were leaving, I’m pretty sure I saw her mother’s shoulders droop in relief. I swear to God, it was almost as bad as being back in that tiny fucking house with John Miller.”
That was a lie. There was nothing that was as bad as living with my father. I’d have walked across glass, Georgia’s father on my back beating me with my jockstrap, before I went back to the house I’d been forced to grow up in.
“Dude, I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” I said solemnly. “Alright, I’m gonna go inside, see what Jamie’s up to. You get back to your movie. Wouldn’t want to keep you from the hair scene any longer.”
“Uncle Quinn!” Allie shouted before I could disconnect the call. “When are you coming to see my prairie dogs?”
“Yeah, Quinn, when are you gonna come see these freakin’ rodents that are sending Aiden to an early grave?” Brooke asked.
“Soon, Allie Bean. I’ll come see them, and you, soon. I promise.”
“You just gave me your word!” she said in a sing-song voice. “That means you have to do it!”
After Brooke and Griff asked me to give Jamie their best, I hung up and then sat in the silence of the truck for a few more minutes.
I’d just reached for the handle of the door when my phone chimed with an incoming text.
Georgia: Dinner was a little awkward, I know. But we’re all good, right?
Awkward was an understatement. It was downright the most uncomfortable thing I’d ever been through.
Me: Yeah, we’re good.
I stared at the screen, watching the text bubble, when a light inside the apartment flared to life. Through the closed blinds, my sister’s silhouette moved around inside. I looked back and forth between the phone and the window, my mind a jumbled mess. It didn’t seem possible that I was on top of the world just a few short hours ago. The phone chimed again.
Georgia: Good! More Schitt’s Creek tomorrow night?
My stomach turned. A night spent on her couch watching that crazy family on TV was something so ordinary, and I wanted that more than I cared to admit. But as much as I liked Georgia, and as real as it already felt with her, the woman on the other side of those curtains needed me.
I’d come to play football, and despite it not being my choice, I had to make the best of it. I had to show the team, the fans, the coaches that I wasn’t the fuckup that I’d turned into recently. I sure as hell wasn’t going to get any favors from the new coach if I was dating his daughter, and at this point in my career, and life really, I needed all the help I could get.
It was time to dedicate myself to being a player and a brother again. That left being a boyfriend a sad third, and that wasn’t fair to Georgia. That incredible woman deserved to be first, put up on a pedestal that was unreachable.
But in my world, Jamie had always been my first priority. There were times when I wanted nothing more than to do say ‘fuck it’ and live my life for myself, times when the shit my sister did pushed me to the point of breaking. But she was still my baby sister, and she would always have to come first.
Me: Tomorrow’s no good. I’ll call ya later.
My shoulders sagged as I turned the phone off, not sure that I could stay strong enough to stick to my guns if she sent another text tonight. I needed to figure this out, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to have a clear head if I spent anymore time with Georgia. Every time I was with her, the logical part of my brain took a back seat to the part of me that just couldn’t resist her.
Georgia was incredible, and in a different world, I would have given up everything to be with her. But Jamie and I, we were all each other had. Before my mother died, I promised her that I’d always take care of her.
And after all, when you made a promise, it meant you had to do it.
No matter how much everything inside was screaming that you were giving up something amazing.
14
Georgia
“I don’t know how you watch this garbage,” Piper groaned as she pulled her feet under her at the end of my couch. “I mean, seriously, how are these people already falling in love?”
I shoveled a handful of popcorn into my mouth and pulled the blanket up higher over my lap. “Do you see how good looking that man is? That’s how they are already falling in love.”
She narrowed her eyes in my direction and held her hand out. “Looks aren’t everything, you know. Quit hogging the bowl.”
My phone vibrated on the table beside me, so I passed her the bowl. I frowned when I read the one-word response from Quinn.
“What?” Piper asked, the word garbled.
I turned the phone so that she could read the screen. Her eyes quickly scanned the texts between Quinn and me, and then she looked back to me expectantly. “Am I supposed to know why that’s bad?”
“I don’t even know if it’s bad! Every text I’ve sent has been answered with one word. How was your day? Fine. Do you want to grab dinner? Can’t. Are you watching Schitt’s Creek without me? No. I mean, what the hell, Pip?”
I reached for the bowl of popcorn and grabbed a few kernels, popping them in my mouth. It was an exciting Saturday night at my house, just me and my best friend, a gigantic bowl of popcorn, and hours of trying to figure out why the hell I hadn’t seen and had barely heard from Quinn since dinner Tuesday night.
Sure, I’d gone back to work the day after our dinner and had immediately been consumed by a new project, but I’d still made it a point to try and see Quinn. “Do you think I made a mistake taking him to dinner so soon?”
“Absolutely,” Piper said immediately.
“Gee, thanks for making me feel so much better.”
She grabbed the remote from the table and turned the volume on our show down. “Look, Georgia. Our family is a lot to handle on a normal day. Throw in the fact that you two had been dating for, what? A week? And then your dad announces that he’s Quinn’s new coach? Yeah, bringing him to dinner was a terrible idea.”
I shook my head. “No, I asked him after dinner if we were okay,
and he said we were.”
She frowned, her eyes narrowing. “You two talked about Dad being his coach and he said he didn’t care?”
“Well, not exactly.”
“Okay, so what exactly did he say?”
I scrolled back up through our texts. “Crap.”
“What?”
“Yeah, we’re good. That’s what he said.”
“And was he smiling when he said that? Frowning? Crying?” she prodded.
I sighed and glanced back to the TV screen. The couple that had just met were making out. Of course, they were all smiles. They weren’t in the real world. The world where your new girlfriend’s father was your boss. “I don’t know what he was doing when he said it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was through text?” I said quietly, waving the phone in her direction.
“Crap,” Piper echoed. “You’re getting the brush-off.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “Is that what this is?”
She nodded, her eyes softening. I recognized that look; she felt sorry for me. Once again, poor Georgia was being dumped. “No. He’s just busy.”
“Was he this busy before dinner last week?” she questioned.
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
Piper straightened on the couch. “Okay, let’s talk this out. You like him, right?”
“Yes.” I shifted in my seat.
“And judging from everything you’ve told me, he seemed to be really into you.”
“He introduced himself as my boyfriend. A guy who isn’t into you wouldn’t do that, would they?”
Piper scooted closer to me on the couch. “He drove you to your meeting. Showed up when you told him not to. Spent the day distracting you from your job. Did and said all the right things.”
“Yes. All of that.” I cut my eyes away and stifled a smile. “Among other things.”
Piper arched a brow but didn’t push it. “So, what’s changed?”
“Nothing. Except Daddy being his coach.”
“Bingo,” she said, jabbing her finger in my direction.
I shook my head. “But he said we were good.”
“Through a text message. And since that text, he’s barely said, what? Five words to you all week? It’s your dad, Georgia.”
“Okay. So, maybe it’s Daddy. But why does that matter? I’m thirty years old! We are both adults; it’s not like I’m some kid in high school and Dad’s gonna pull a shotgun on him.”
“Admittedly, I don’t know everything about football.” She shrugged. “But you said that he had a reputation of being a diva, that he wasn’t showing up to practices and stuff. Doesn’t it make sense that he’d want to impress his new coach and teammates? How are they going to feel if they find out he’s dating the coach’s daughter?”
“I don’t know,” I groaned. I didn’t care how his teammates felt. I cared how I felt, and right now it felt like I was going to miss out on a good thing all because of caveman politics.
“I mean, that’s like nepotism at its finest, don’t you think? What happens when your dad gives him more playing time than someone else? They are going to think it’s because of his relationship with you.”
I grit my teeth and shook my head. “Daddy wouldn’t do that.”
“What happens when your dad gives him less playing time? He’s going to think it’s because of you.”
“Well, that’s just dumb. I don’t have anything to do with his or Daddy’s job.” The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. “And if that’s really what this is, him avoiding me because of who my father is, well, how cowardly is that?”
I had no idea when I took Quinn to my parents’ house that night that my father’s big news was going to have such a direct impact on him. If I had known, I certainly wouldn’t have insisted on him going. But I’d told him that, apologized for it even though I had no control of who my father was, and I thought that things were fine.
If it was such an issue for him, he should have said something. “Why the hell can’t a man just say what they are thinking?”
Piper took a sip of her wine. “No idea. Maybe because they don’t know what they’re thinking most of the time anyway?”
“Well, I certainly know what I’m thinking. And I don’t have any problem telling him.”
I grabbed my phone and opened up the text thread, my fingers nearly burning as I began to give Quinn a piece of my mind.
“Oh, no!” Piper nearly yelled, reaching for my phone. I jerked it out of her reach, and for a few seconds, we played the ridiculous game of keep away. “Don’t text him while you’re worked up.”
She was grabbing for the phone, and I was dodging her hands. “Why not? He can only give me one-word answers, but I’ve got more than one word for him.”
Piper lunged again, her knee knocking the bowl of popcorn onto the floor, the remote clattering down after it. “Shit!”
She finally stopped trying to take my phone away, and panting, said, “I’m going on record to say that this is a terrible idea. But like you said a little while ago, you’re an adult.”
“Thank you,” I exaggerated. When she began scooping the spilled popcorn back into the bowl, I started typing.
Me: You know what I’m tired of? One-word answers from you…
Piper’s voice interrupted my train of thought. “Uh, Georgia.”
“Just a minute. I’m about to tell him all the reasons that he’s acting like a jerk.”
The volume on the TV grew louder, and I waved a hand at Piper. “Turn that down. I can’t think with that guy’s voice droning on.”
“Georgia!” Piper’s voice was sharp, and she shoved my knee.
“What?” I tore my attention away from my phone.
Her eyes were wide, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “Looks like he’s got more issues than just your dad being the coach.”
Her head tipped toward the TV. The channel must have been changed to the sports station when the remote fell because, there, scrolling across the bottom of the screen, was a breaking news headline.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, the words that I read barely registering.
My heart leapt into my throat as I heard the sportscaster say, “Newly acquired Atlanta running back, Quinn Miller, has been arrested on charges of possession of heroin. This is a developing story, so we don’t have much to go on, but certainly things are not looking good for the start of his career with the Falcons.”
“Heroin?” Piper squeaked.
Quinn’s handsome face filled the screen as they shared an image of his mugshot, his plump lips cast down in a frown, his eyes emotionless and flat. The man on the screen in front of me looked like a shell of the guy I’d introduced to my parents a few days ago. My stomach churned and bile rose in the back of my throat.
“Are you okay?” Piper’s face had paled, her lower lip trembling.
“I don’t know.” I had no idea if I was okay, but I reached for her hand and laced my fingers through hers as we both sat staring in silent shock as the guy on the TV continued to give details of Quinn’s arrest.
The fingers that were laced through mine squeezed but offered no comfort. “Just breathe.”
I did as I was told and pulled in a deep breath through my nose, holding it in my lungs until they burned. When I finally let it out, I looked at where Piper sat beside me, her face still a mask of shock, and murmured, “What the hell is happening?”
15
Quinn
“Yes, sir,” I said before disconnecting the call.
I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned my head back against the headrest in the mid-sized sedan that I’d had to call to drive me home from jail, my truck sitting in impound.
According to my agent, the news of my arrest had broken, and if it wasn’t already, it would only be a matter of time before reporters were waiting to grill me. I’d spent several hours in the local jail before being released on bond along with a court date for the charges of heroin possession. T
hankfully, the driver either wasn’t a sports fan or didn’t recognize me, so I hadn’t had to smile and sign autographs or make small talk.
I couldn’t believe I was in this situation, and as tough as I was, there was a small part of me that was freaked out. This was not what I’d come here for, and now there was no telling what was going to happen next.
I’d turned my phone on as I walked out of the jail, and a barrage of texts and voice mails came through. Griff and Aiden had tried to get in touch with me for hours, their messages becoming more and more concerned without any response from me.
However, the most texts had come from Georgia. She’d sent three, each growing increasingly frustrated with my lack of response. Not that I’d have been able to text her back from the cell I’d been in.
When the phone began to ring with an incoming call again, I cracked a lid to see Georgia’s name pop up on the screen. This would be the second call in the last ten minutes. I pushed the decline button and sent her to voice mail before closing my eyes again and trying to clear my mind.
A few minutes later, the driver’s voice broke into my thoughts. “We’re here.”
I sucked in a deep breath and pushed out of the car, calling a thanks over my shoulder and trudging through the parking lot.
I’d made it almost to the door when a familiar scent hit me. I looked up, my gaze meeting a very concerned Georgia perched on the doorstep. She pushed to her feet, her green eyes narrowed in my direction.
“What the hell is going on?”
Not exactly the greeting I was expecting, although I hadn’t expected to find her sitting on the step of my apartment. “How’d you know where I lived?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Neither is that,” I shot back.
“My father’s the head coach. I made a few calls.”
The Hardest Play Page 10