Tyler lowered his head and sighed. Slowly, he turned. “And what do you think of that?”
“I’m pissed.” Which he hadn’t even known—because, so far, he’d just been anxious. “I’ve got the best quarterback rating in the league.”
“Don’t bother reciting your stats to me. I know them. We all know them. You’ve got superior arm strength and pinpoint accuracy. You’ve got a sixth-sense connection with your receivers. Yup. Got it.” He tipped his head, a challenge in his eyes. “But you’re also in the news for threesomes and love triangles.”
Shame spread through him hot and fast. It was one thing to experience that kind of exposure in the news and among his teammates. Another thing entirely hearing the sordidness from his mentor. “Nothing was how they represented it. I’ve never touched Amie.”
“Thought we were talkin’ about football?”
“I—” He was absolutely right. And this is what Coach has been trying to tell you. “Coach says I’m not a leader.”
“Is he right?”
“I’ve led my team to two Super Bowls.”
“Again, I know your accomplishments. I’m talking about qualities they don’t track on the scoreboard. Leaders lead by example. What kind of example are you setting?”
“I’m the first one on the field, the first one to help set up. I live clean.”
“Okay, so then Coach is going after you for no reason?”
“No. It’s like you said. My celebrity overshadows football.” That’s putting it nicely.
“Cassian, you’ve been dancing a long damn time. You danced to get Griffin to like you, to get your aunt and uncle to keep you, to get your teammates to accept you. Aren’t you tired of it?”
He let that sink in. Experiences from a dozen years flipped through his mind, forcing him to admit the truth. “I’m exhausted.”
“You want to play ball?”
“I do.”
“You want to be captain?”
He didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes. I do.”
“Then quit trying to win the guys with vacations and blow-out parties and start earning their respect. Everything you do with them needs to be about ball. You can take them on retreats—hell, you’re supposed to do that. But the focus has to be on bonding. Why do you and your receivers have that sixth sense for each other? Because you’re good friends. You trust and respect each other. Believe me, when you’re partying, there’s no bonding going on. When you’re drunk, you’re not connecting on any level.”
“The guys love those trips. It’s the only reason they volunteer at my football camp.”
Whatever he’d said twisted Tyler’s features in pain. “Ah, hell, son.” He set the bakery bag on the hood of Cassian’s truck and then came right up to him. He gripped his shoulders. “Cassian, listen to me. You’re enough. Your talent, your leadership, your instincts…you’re enough. I’m sorry nobody ever told you that.”
Emotion hit like a wall of water, slamming him back. The knot in his throat felt sharp as razorblades, and he couldn’t speak.
He was thrown back to his childhood, the little boy watching his dad—always watching. Waiting for him to notice him. Hang out with him. Talk to him.
That fucking longing.
And then his dad had died before he’d ever had a chance to know him. Know him as a man.
Tyler held his gaze with searing intensity. “You were always good enough for my daughter. I’m sorry if telling you to stay away from her sounded like you weren’t. That was never my intention.”
His chest—Jesus, it felt like a thousand pounds of defenders had piled on top of him—and he struggled to breathe.
“You’ve had to fight for your place every step of the way, but you’ve earned your spot on the team. So, from now on, lead by example. Be about football. It doesn’t mean you’re doing drills on these retreats. It means you’re eating clean, working as a team to build a rope bridge across the Gallatin River or whatever ideas you can come up with. You don’t need to provide top-shelf scotch. You need to help your teammates become the best damn players in the league. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Good. Now, let me eat this while it’s still warm.”
Cassian watched him walk away, his lifeline to Gigi stretching so thin it was about to snap.
I’m about to snap.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He just fucking couldn’t live without her.
“But what about Gigi? What does any of this have to do with getting her back?”
“You can’t connect the dots?”
“Not when I’m terrified I’ve lost her for good, no.”
Tyler watched him carefully. “Son, you tell people how to treat you. You think any of my friends are going to come into my house for a party and leave used condoms on the floor?”
Of course not. He didn’t even need to answer.
“Require the respect you deserve—and I guarantee all this noise will go away.”
“What if it’s too late? What if she moves on?”
“You think there’s someone else for her?”
“No.”
“There you go.”
Chapter Twenty
The red light in her studio flashed. Gigi pulled off her headphones and set her guitar down. Hurrying out of the soundproof room, she crossed her living room. Who could be here?
Grant was in town, but he wouldn’t just show up, would he? He knew she was recording.
An ocean breeze swept through her cottage, ruffling the gauze curtains. She loved her little house. She really did, but it had never felt this empty. She’d never felt this empty.
Through the glass panels framing the old oak door, she saw a canary yellow delivery van double-parked on her narrow street. She opened it, and the young man handed her an envelope.
“Thank you.” She signed for the package and closed the door. The shipping label had no return address, so she ripped it open to find two tickets for a Blue Fire show at the Staples Center, including two backstage passes.
She wracked her brain trying to think who would do this. It couldn’t be random. Nobody would send her Blue Fire tickets out of the blue. Only someone who knew Irwin Ledger was their A&R rep. And the only people who knew that Irwin was her brass ring were her parents…and Cassian.
Her phone chirped from the kitchen, and she hurried to answer. Grant. “Hello?”
“Hey. You lookin’ for a plus one?”
“Okay, what’s going on? Who sent me these tickets?”
“We can talk about it in the limo. Right now, you need to jump in the shower. I should be there in about an hour.”
“It’s tonight?” She held up the ticket. “Oh, for goodness’ sake. I can’t go to a concert tonight. I’ve been in the studio for four days. I haven’t even washed my hair.”
“Okay, well, how ‘bout I swing by and take those tickets off your hands?”
She heard the amusement in his voice, but she wasn’t smiling. “Did Cassian do this? Is that what’s going on? Because he’s crazy if he thinks I’m just going to hand my demo over to Irwin in the green room.”