He has me there. “You’re going back to the city for break, right?”
His hesitation makes me wish I hadn’t asked, especially when his eyes dart back to the office I came from. “Er, yeah. For Christmas at least. My parents are doing a cruise to Alaska or some shit, so it’ll give me time to do my own thing.” He doesn’t need to elaborate on what that is, and I know better than to ask. “Your girl going to be ready for what’s coming your way? She said she officially put in her enrollment withdrawal, so it seems like she’s serious.”
“If anyone can manage, it’s Ivy.” She’s at Bea’s for her shift right now, telling Bea that she may be gone by the summertime. She was nervous telling her boss that after everything she’s done for her, but I know Bea will be happy.
He glances down to the phone in his hand, lighting up with a name. All I see are the first two letters and decide it’s my time to go. “I’ll see you around, man.”
I’m pushing the door open when he calls out, “Hey. Thanks. You know, for the advice.”
Nodding once, I head out and find Coach hanging up his phone as I approach his office. He waves me in before I can even knock, so I drop my shit into the chair and sit on the opposite one.
“Just got off the phone with Wilkins,” he informs me as I stretch my legs out. “He said the Bills are still interested, but he has good sources that say the Patriots are going to try snatching you up based on how you present yourself in February. And before you say anything—” He eyes me as my lips part to speak. “—I also heard they plan on making a spectacle of the tensions between you and Mahone. They won’t want any problems between teammates, so they’ll make sure it’s understood you’re on the same ground. No repeats of your time at Wilson Reed together.”
My face drains of emotion, eyes narrowing. “That seems like bullshit. It’s been years and they want to bring it up to make sure the media doesn’t play on it?”
He leans back in his chair, tapping a pen against the playbook open in front of him. “A team like that will do whatever they can to make sure their reputation is clean. I have no doubt they’ll offer you a pretty penny, son. Doesn’t mean the monetary value is going to be worth your sanity if you sign their paper.”
“I haven’t even done the combine yet, so I’d rather not think about an offer.”
“You doubting yourself?”
“No, Coach.”
He studies me. “You change your mind about what you want then?”
“Absolutely not.”
He gives one firm nod. “Good. Then don’t go psyching yourself out before you’ve had a chance to prove to them what you can do. We both know you’re good. Hell, you’re better than every guy on the Dragons and I’ll confirm that on camera even if it pisses off the others.”
“Probably shouldn’t though.”
The limp lift of his shoulders tells me he doesn’t give a shit either way. “I believe in you, Aiden. I believe you can do great things and go far. I’m sure your family and your girl does too based on what I’ve seen. Having that support system is going to be real important for the next few years.”
I huff out a laugh. “Now you’re on board with me seeing someone if she gives me support?”
He shoots me a look. “The missus nearly bit my head off when she found out I’d gone to see your girl at her work. Won’t be making that mistake again.”
I don’t bother hiding my grin.
He nods toward my bag. “You get everything you need from Rachel? She’s adamant that you have what you need in case you decide to finish off your degree. I know some players choose to go back to school, but I highly doubt it’d be useful to you.”
As much as I want to bring up Matt to him, I know it’d only cause more problems in the long run for everybody involved. So, I keep my lips zipped, tell him Rachel got me everything I need, and then get dismissed.
My drive to the bakery is quiet, and when I see the brunette behind the counter handing a cup to an elderly man, I stop in my tracks. She told me she was going to Elena’s before work but wouldn’t tell me why. When she looks up, there’s a secret smile painted across those bright red lips.
I approach after the last customer walks away with his order and lean across the counter. She stops me before I can steal a kiss, putting her finger against my mouth and pushing me away enough to meet my eyes. “What? Afraid to be seen with me now?”
She thumbs my bottom lip. “You should be afraid to be seen with me. Haven’t you heard? I’m a college dropout.”
Reaching over, I flick a piece of her freshly dyed hair. It’s a little darker than her natural shade, but still beautiful. “I don’t give a shit as long as you’re happy. This looks good on you, by the way. What made you go back?”
She nibbles her lip. “It was time. If I’m going to do what makes me happy, I want a fresh start. No more hiding.”
“The talk with Bea went well then?”
Her eyes go behind the counter briefly before she stands on her toes and presses a kiss to my lips. “Better than good. She told me I can stay as long as I’d like. She’s even giving me some of her old recipes to practice making.”
The woman in question comes out from the back, flour covering her black apron and a big smile on her face. “She’s forgetting the most important part of what I told her.”
Ivy groans.
“I said I couldn’t say no to her running away with you when the time came because she couldn’t do any better if she tried.”
I laugh as Ivy turns to the older woman with her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not running away with him.”
Bea’s eyes change slightly. “You’re right. I’d say you’ve done enough running in your lifetime. It’s about time you settled, hmm?”
The comment makes me wonder just how long their talk was.
When I get her full attention, I say, “I’m going to Everly’s for a while, then meeting up with Caleb later on. Told him we’d stop by toward closing to get you.”
“You don’t have to—”
I stop her there. “I don’t have to do anything, but I want to. Plus, it’s cold outside, there’s ice everywhere, and you’re insistent on not needing a car.”
Her stance is the same. “I haven’t driven in years and cars are expensive. I don’t need one when I can walk places.”
“Exactly. So, we’re picking you up.”
She glares.
I shrug.
Bea laughs before disappearing into the back again.
“So, do you want your usual?” she asks, shifting gears.
“Is that your way of saying you want half my bagel?”
“Are you going to keep insinuating you only ask for half of one because you knew I’d eat the other?”
All I say is, “The usual please.”
“Fine, but I’m putting real butter on it instead of that nasty olive oil spread you like.” She goes to work doing just that, passing me a coffee a few minutes later, then a bag with half an everything bagel a few minutes after that.
“Was that so hard?” I tease, passing her what I owe.