“What is it?”
Thankfully, he doesn’t make me wait any longer. “You’ve been awfully chummy with your assistant coach lately.”
What the hell? That’s what this is about? “He’s my assistant coach, not the enemy.”
He pins me with an annoyed look. “He’s a Bear. He’s the enemy, and you made that clear from the very beginning. So this new . . .”—he flicks his wrist in an annoyed gesture—“friendship is odd.”
“Maybe I decided I should give the guy a chance.” I thank the waitress when she brings over our food and pick up a rench fry. “And he’s not a Bear. He’s a goddamn Panther now.” I munch on the fry, but I know this is far from over.
I should have just skipped this dinner and told Chance to come over.
“Look, you’re my oldest friend,” he says, not touching his food and leaning in a little closer. “It doesn’t look good. Not at all, and people are starting to talk.”
My skin heats, and I feel my palms starting to sweat. I hate that I let gossip have this impact on me, but the fear creeps up anyway.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I narrow my eyes at him, waiting for his answer, but I already know what it is.
“You know why he was fired,” he says matter-of-factly.
“I do.” Only I know the actual story and not just idle gossip.
“So you being chummy with him on the sidelines—it doesn’t look good. Don’t tell me you don’t know that.”
I frown. “It doesn’t look good for a coach and an assistant coach to get along?”
He looks annoyed at me, becoming flustered. “You know exactly what I mean.” He keeps his voice low. “He had an affair with a player, for Christ’s sake. A male player.” A raging shiver goes through me because if it had been a female, he wouldn’t be batting an eye. “And it’s not just at games when you’re coaching. People have seen his truck at your house. You’ve been seen in this diner with him.”
Christ. I really have no privacy at all.
I lean in closer, keeping my voice deadly quiet as I eye him angrily. “We both know why he was actually fired. The truth is”—my voice shakes for only a moment, but I quickly right myself—“he was fired for being gay in a small town. And he didn’t touch that goddamn player. Not once. He was trying to help him.”
Billy’s eyes widen in shock as he stares at me. “Noah . . .”
“Don’t.” I sit back in the booth and hold up a hand to stop him. “He’s my friend. We’re chummy, and nothing you or this town says is going to change that simply because he’s a gay man.”
His face is nearly purple as he shakes his head at me. “I’m your friend. I’m trying to warn you. People are starting to talk, damn it. It isn’t right.”
“What isn’t?” I ask, challenging him to accuse me of what he’s thinking. Of what the whole town is talking about. Would I admit there’s more going on with Chance? Even before I know exactly what that thing is? I don’t know. At this point, I’m starting to think that yeah, I might.
“You know what I mean. With him being”—he waves his hand again, flustered—“him.”
I stand up, taking my wallet out of my back pocket and tossing a twenty down on the table. “I don’t want your goddamn warnings anymore. You hear me?” I keep my voice low and my tone calm, but I’m internally shaking.
“I’m just being your friend.”
I give a firm shake of my head. “A real friend wouldn’t warn me and expect me to conform to the town’s expectations. A real friend would have my back when those expectations are cruel and harmful. You wouldn’t want to change me. You’d want to take on the town and right the wrongs.”
“This is Kensley—” he starts, and I shake my head at him again.
“It’s time for Kensley to change and grow.”
With that, I turn and leave, walking out of the diner before I even take a breath. Lord knows this whole thing will be the town’s new gossip. There were plenty of people in there to spread the word.
But I don’t care.
Right now, I’m texting Chance, and with any luck, he’ll be at my house around the same time I pull up.
Because I know without a doubt, if I fall apart, he’ll let me.
And I think that’s exactly what I need right now.
TWENTY
CHANCE
This is a big game. A huge game. One I’m not really sure how the hell I feel about because we’re playing Big Bend in Big Bend. I’m trying like hell to hide my nerves, but I feel Noah’s eyes on mine as we ride the bus. He’s in the seat across from mine.
Each of us sitting alone.
All I want is to be snuggled up next to him and for him to tell me this is going to be okay. We didn’t talk about it last night when I met him at his house.
He was quiet, and so was I, for once, thinking about tonight.
I don’t know if he was quiet because of this matchup or if something happened at dinner with his friend. Honestly, I was afraid to ask.
We ended up having a nice, quiet evening where I kissed him goodbye after he walked me to my truck.
But despite the nerves of the game, and really, really not wanting to be back in my hometown, it’s his birthday.
Friday the 13th in October.
And I shift in my seat a little, thinking about the surprise I have under my gym pants just for him when we’re finally alone. I don’t want this night to be ruined for anything.
So here we go. I’m Team Panthers all the way. I’m all-in.
Fuck the Bears.
That’s pretty much the sentiment as we all unload from the bus and make our way to the field. The boys are already in their uniforms and warming up when I finally step a little closer to Noah. “You think they’re ready?”
He gives me a stern nod, eyeing the other side of the field with a quiet anger only Noah Asher can pull off. “They fucked you over.” His voice is a low, gravelly sort of growl, and holy shit, does it do things to me.
“I just want to win this thing and go home.” I swear the staunch, put-together coach shivers when I say that.
Home.
It’s not my home, but it’s felt like it in the very short time I’ve known him. I still haven’t stayed the night. Both of us are nervous about someone seeing my truck there all night, but God, I want to wake up in his arms.
I watch his throat move as he swallows, and his chest expands when he takes a deep breath. “I want that too.”
I grin but keep quiet as we gather the team to start the game. It’s a cool night with the sun setting and nearly down in the sky. It’s kind of pretty, looking out over the stadium as it lowers, with the stadium lights illuminating the field. I try like hell to not look at the Big Bend coaches and the people in administration who had me fired without hearing me out.
Who shunned me.
I stand proudly in my red and black with my head held high. And the boys came to play.
It’s not an all-out slaughter, but Kensley was ahead the entire time, and it wasn’t even close. Thank. Fuck.