Page 7 of Game On

“Shane, Coach is on his way to the training facility to meet with you.” She took a step back, clutching her paperwork to her chest.

“Yeah, I forgot my umbrella. It belongs to the car rental company and I wouldn’t want to read in the tabloids I’ve taken to petty theft.” Efficiently using his large body, he maneuvered her back into the conference room, quietly closing the door behind them.

She rolled her eyes at him as he circled the table to retrieve the umbrella from the floor beside his chair. Laying her papers back on the table, she took a deep, fortifying breath. It was time to clear the air.

“As long as we have a moment of privacy,” she began, “I want to apologize for the other night in Cabo. I . . .”

“Save it, Dorothy. I caught the tender moment between you and the coach. Your friend the wedding planner did us both a favor back there in Mexico.” He stood inches from her. “What’s the matter? The coach’s wife is recovering from her cancer, so you figured before he dumped you, you’d make the moves on the future quarterback? Is that how it went?”

He was so close she could see the black rings around his gray irises. His eyes were sparkling with anger. Confused, Carly tried to gather her breath.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” She braced her hands on the table, hating the way his menacing stance affected her.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He stepped even closer. “Chicks like you are all over this league. Playing hard to get, always trying to find the best deal for themselves. Well, news flash, honey. I’m not playing. If the coach wants to dip his stick into you, that’s his business, not mine.”

What? She was no longer confused; she was incensed.

“That’s disgusting!” She reached up to push him away, but he was already at the door.

“Save it, sweetheart. What you do is your business. Just don’t let me hear any rumors about you and me in Cabo because nothing happened. Thank God! You try to say something did and I’ll rat you and the coach out to the Wizard of Oz in a heartbeat.”

He stormed out of the conference room before she could get a word in. Standing there with her mouth gaping open, her hands once again braced on the table, she was unsure whether to laugh or cry. Carly had had worse things said about her. The press—and people she thought she trusted—had certainly bested Shane Devlin’s accusations. But that didn’t mean his words didn’t hurt.

Hank’s secretary stuck her head in the room, startling her out of her shock.

“Gabe Harrelson’s wife is on the phone again. She’s not happy Gabe’s signing bonus is revoked because of his fall. Hank asked if you could reason with her.”

Great. Now she had two irrational people to deal with.

THREE

It was still drizzling several hours later when Shane walked from the practice facility back to the main office complex of the Blaze. Earlier, he’d managed to endure the press conference, followed by a meet and greet with trainers and coaches who hadn’t been paraded through the conference room that morning. Fortunately, Roscoe had taken off shortly after the media session. But not without a lecture.

“I know it’s asking a lot, but try to play nice, Shane,” Roscoe chided him before he left. “Smile for the media and suck it up. And, Hank’s assistant is off-limits, if you know what’s good for you.”

There was no way Roscoe could have picked up on the sexual tension between Shane and Carly. It was just typical Roscoe, practicing damage control. But Shane knew enough to steer clear of her.

“Don’t worry, I learned a valuable lesson in San Diego,” Shane said. Roscoe just grunted, slapping Shane on the back before heading to New York.

Locating his locker, he unpacked the few things he’d brought with him on the plane. A three-day mini-camp began in the morning, and he’d finally get an opportunity to let his arm do his talking. Shane was always more comfortable dealing with adversity on the field than off.

The drizzle cooled him off as he walked. Next on his schedule was a private meeting with Coach Richardson. Something he was not excited about. Up until this morning, Shane had been looking forward to playing for the man. Richardson had been a pro-bowl player in his day and had evolved into a top-notch coach, one who was known and respected for his fairness and integrity. That image was destroyed this morning.

The guy was married to a woman with cancer, for crying out loud. Shane shook his head in disgust.

The same disease that took Shane’s mother’s life some twenty years ago. Thinking of the coach’s three children, he grew angrier. That anger certainly had nothing to do with the fact that the coach’s hands had been all over Carly. No, he was upset that both Carly and Coach Richardson had somehow disappointed him.

Shane was someone who expected very little from people. Most people betray one another. It was a fact of life he’d grown up learning the hard way. It was the reason he didn’t let anyone close to him. Let them in, and they’d just screw you over later on. He didn’t want to delve too deeply into the particular reasons for his disappointment with the coach and Carly, however. That would only lead him to admit to feelings he didn’t want to feel. He needed to forget about the Blaze’s sexy siren and concentrate on learning the team’s system so he could play football.

Stepping into the main office building, he combed his fingers through his hair, trying to dry it. Not knowing where the coaches’ suite was located, he stopped to ask at the security office just inside the front doors.

“Shane Devlin, as I live and breathe,” a voice called from the back of the office.

Shane looked up to see a shiny-headed, African American man striding across the office, smiling with his hand extended in greeting.

“Donny Carter?” Shane smiled his first real smile in a long time. “What are you doing here?”

The two men clasped hands and then leaned in to tap each other on the back.

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