Chapter 3
1490 Words
three
Lee
I blink and blink again and look around. Sure as s**t, it’s not a dream, Shayna is walking out of the room.
Of all the things I expected to deal with this week, coming face-to-face with my biggest regret was not one of them. Seeing her again pulls all that self-esteem out of me and throws it in a garbage disposal because she’s a reminder of the slimeball I was with her.
She looks different than she did in college—no glasses, shorter hair that’s lighter with a hint of darker roots showing. But she’s just as beautiful. And even though she didn’t utter a word, she must be just as smart, otherwise, she wouldn’t have ended up working for the Kingsmen. Dr. Carlisle and Dr. Frampton are notoriously rigorous in their hiring of new staff.
“Did you know she was working for the team now?” Miles interrupts my thoughts.
I shake my head. “Of course not. What? You think she called me to use me as a reference?”
Miles holds up his hands. “It’s odd to just show up. She must’ve known she’d see you.”
“What do you mean?” I look away from the direction Shayna went and over at my best friend.
He gives me a look like I’m an i***t. “Even people who don’t follow football know you play for the Kingsmen. She would’ve too when she applied for and accepted the job.”
A small smile tips the corners of my lips because she does follow football. “Maybe she’s ready to forgive me.”
Miles shrugs and stands, clamping me on the shoulder. “Wouldn’t assume that either.” I’m busy thinking, and he clears his throat, not walking down the stairs. “Listen, man, you can’t let her get in your head.”
My eyebrows crinkle. “What? Never.” But I already feel my head spinning, unsure how to handle this.
“You say that, but you’re forgetting I was your roommate. I saw how the breakup affected you.”
I shrug his hand off my shoulder and stand. “Thanks, Dad.”
He follows me. “I’m serious, Lee. Don’t let her mess up your mental game. It’s just as important as the physical one.”
We walk down the stairs to exit the auditorium. I hold up my hand to get him to stop talking. “Whatever would I do without you, oh wise one?”
“Probably play for the Canadian Football League.”
I shake my head. It’s a running joke between us, but Miles knows as well as I do that most of the guys in my home country could play in the NFL. There’s just not enough spots for everyone.
Which is why I work my ass off every day to guarantee I’m a part of the league.
In the hallway, I chat with some of the coaching staff about my workouts during the off-season—how I’ve kept in shape and my diet—then I’m sent to the medical offices to undergo my physical assessment.
A small part of me is excited at the prospect of seeing Shayna day in and day out. She’s crossed my mind almost daily over the years and not just because she’s the one person I treated the worst in my entire life. Back in college, I got a taste of what we could be together and if I hadn’t f****d up, she could be the one I’m going home to tonight instead of an empty condo.
I hope I’m right about her taking a position with the team meaning that she’s ready to forgive me and move on. I tried to get her back in college, but after she brushed me off numerous times, ignored me completely, and got angry at me for continuing to approach her, I gave up and stayed away from her for the rest of my time in Michigan.
Sure, I was painfully aware we still shared the same campus because I’d spot her off in the distance sometimes or pass her in the hall or on a pathway through campus, but she’d always look away or sharply turn at the last minute. Each time it happened, I’d lose all focus and it took every ounce of willpower to not chase after her.
But here, she has to work with me. It’s my time to make amends.
Miles is right when he says I can’t let her f**k with my head. I have a contract renewal coming up at the end of the season, and with our roster, there’s a real possibility we could make it deep into the playoffs this year, if not the Super Bowl. I need to put this thing with Shayna to rest sooner than later because it’ll hang over my head like a thunderstorm until it’s resolved.
I walk into the trainers’ room and immediately inspect each athlete and trainer for Shayna. She’s off in the corner working with Brady Banks, our new wide receiver we picked up during the off-season.
She’s straddling his leg to assess his knee and my fists squeeze together, desperate to unleash my sudden anger. Brady Banks has a reputation in this league. Professionally, the guy is the best there is, which is why he went free agent this year and had multiple teams vying for him. It’s his private life reputation that’s making jealousy turn my stomach as if he and Shayna are both naked.
Coach told me to report to Dr. Frampton, but instead, my feet move to Banks and Shayna. I tell myself it’s because I’ve been wanting to get to know Brady and what better opportunity than now to invite him out with me this weekend. I mean, he’s the guy I’ll be throwing to most of the season, so we should get off on the right foot and all.
“Hey, Brady.” I put out my hand. “Wanted to come by and say hi.”
Shayna’s body stiffens and her blueish-green eyes meet mine for the briefest second.
He puts out his hand and we shake. “Hey, man. Good to meet you.”
“How are you liking San Fran so far?” I cross my arms and widen my stance, willing Shayna to chime in.
He slyly grins. “These are my old stomping grounds. I grew up here.”
“Well, I guess that’s why the Kingsmen won you.”
“What am I? A stuffed animal in a crane game?”
“You were about that hard to win.” We both laugh.
“I hate those fuckers. I never win.”
I glance at Shayna, who’s stepped away from his legs. Finally, f**k.
“You sure you’re not going to miss the Wisconsin winters?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Not even a little.”
Shayna pretends she doesn’t hear us.
Brady must notice me staring because he gestures toward her. “Have you met Shayna yet? We were just bonding over being the newbies on the team. And the fact she’s from Wisconsin. The fans are probably burning my jersey back there.”
“They’re loyal if nothing else,” I say.
She smiles—at him. Of course she does. My jaw tics.
“Hi, Shayna,” I say.
She draws in a deep breath and turns her head in my direction. “Nice to meet you.” She nods.
The cold and clinical nature of her hello freezes my insides. She’s clearly not here to put anything behind us.
So that’s how she wants to play it? Pretend we don’t know each other? Pretend I haven’t been balls deep inside her while she screams my name when she comes? All right, I’ll play along. For now that is.
“Same. I hope everyone’s been nice.”
Her eyes narrow an infinitesimal amount, but I notice. She’s trying to act unaffected by my presence. “Everyone’s been very nice, yes.”
I nod. “Good to hear.” Looking back in Brady’s direction, I say, “I came over to see if you want to go out on Saturday night. Nothing crazy, just thought we should get to know each other better before the season. But let me make the arrangements. I know you’ve lived here a while, but I have some killer hookups in the city. I’ll work my magic and get back to you.”
“Great. Do your thing.”
I glance at Shayna one last time. “It was nice to meet you.”
She nods but doesn’t bother making eye contact with me, instead focusing on stretching out Brady’s foot.
I reluctantly walk over to Dr. Frampton. She’s clearly still giving me the cold shoulder. Guess that means I’ll have to try harder to warm her up. For both of our benefits this season.
- Writer
