Page 32 of Forever Defiant
He couldn’t stop his laughter. “Yeah, Hadley, every day. It’s busier during spring training and, of course, if you’re first team, it’s really intense during the season.”
“What is wrong with you?” I blurted, and this time his face screwed up. “Sorry, sorry. Jesus Christ, Mike, I’m exhausted already. You do this every day? Twice?”
He looked me over, but not in a sleazy way. “You just need conditioning, you get used to it.”
“I need caffeine,” I mumbled. “Back here at four?” I checked the time. “When I come back later, we’ll talk through schedules, I’ll shadow some days here, some days classes. Yeah?”
“Sounds great.”
It sounded like a huge commitment, which would be fine, but I was so busy with Mike, when would I have time todig? I said goodbye and headed for the front door.
Coach Sutherland just happened to be walking the other way, and I didn’t think it was a coincidence. He stopped in front of me. “Why are you alone?”
“Mike just left me to go to the shower. I’m heading to class.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
Yay.
“I have a new appreciation for football players,” I told him, hoping to appeal to his humanity with some light conversation.“That was an intense practice, and they come back and do it again later.”
He didn’t even crack a smile. “When you come back, remember, youshadowWhittaker. You don’t walk around alone. Stay with him or don’t come back.” He turned his back and walked away.
“Asshole.”
I headed to the coffee shop. I needed sugar and a large coffee. I had no idea where they got their energy from, but I knew I got mine in the form of sugar and caffeine.
My classes were a welcome break from grown men yelling at grown men, and the constant thud of bodies crashing into one another. Whatever Professor Flannigan saw in my face when he asked me how my first day was caused him to cackle in delight. I did mention that Dean Cole had justhappenedto be there, and he gave me a quick wink before starting class as if nothing had happened.
I spent my free hour between two and three doing a crash course in ‘Football for Dummies.’ I was quietly confident that I learned nothing, except that football made no sense to me.
At four, I was loitering in front of the door that was locked to my pass. I peered through the frosted glass of the door but, unsurprisingly, saw nothing.
A light brown hand, warm, familiar in a way it had no right to be, holding a pass, reached over my shoulder, and the card swiped. My body was attuned to him after one kiss. How freaking annoying was that? Dustin opened the door and held it for me. I murmured my thanks.
“You’re everywhere,” he grumbled, following me in.
“I’m doing my assignment.”
“You’re distracting.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
He huffed out something between a laugh and a scoff. “Just... stay out of my way, okay?” He glanced at me. “And stop watching me.I’mnot your assignment.”
Fuck him.
“I’m not watching you.” I’d been totally watching him. “Why do you want me to look away even if I was? Worried I’ll write something mean about you?”
His eyes met mine — steady, sharp, too aware. “No,” he said quietly. “Worried you’re looking for trouble, and it’ll find you, and somehow you’ll drag me into it.”
The air tightened between us. Just enough to make breathing feel optional. Then he cleared his throat, broke the moment, and walked away as if nothing had happened.
I stood there, notebook in hand, pretending my heart wasn’t tap-dancing in my chest. He’d said “drag me into it.” Not the team. Not the problem.Him.
Interesting word choice. Or was it?
God, this was supposed to beeasy. A soft cover story. A simple assignment. A feature review of Mike... while using the chance to observe this shady program.
