Page 34 of By His Rule

Do I want to deal with that? No, I really fucking don’t. But at this point, I don’t have much choice.

My thumb hovers over the “apply now” button, but I don’t get a chance to hit it because my cell begins ringing, the name Wilder appearing at the top of the screen.

I frown before glancing at the time.

He should be in class.

Answering the call, I put my cell to my ear.

“What do you need bailing out of this time?” I ask lightly.

Wilder’s best fake laugh fills the line, and my stomach knots.

Shit. Something is wrong.

“Wilder? What’s going on? Shouldn’t you be in class?”

Concern for my little brother floods through my veins, and I find myself on my feet, pacing back and forth through my living room.

I haven’t told them that I’ve lost my job. I don’t want them to worry. They’ve already got more stress in their lives than seniors at high school should have as it is. I don’t need them to lose sleep over the fact I’m currently unemployed.

“Yeah, I should. I just…my cleats are fucked, and Coach is gonna rip me a new one if I turn up in sneakers again.”

My stomach sinks.

“How is being out of class helping here, exactly?” I ask, mentally trying to figure out how I’m going to get him a pair there in the next…I look at the clock again. Three hours.

“I was trying to get some money together. I’ve got some friends who owe me, but?—”

“Why didn’t you just call me?” I ask, although I already know the answer. It’s the reason why they both have jobs of their own.

“You know why, Lor. I fucking hate this.”

“I know, but sometimes we’ve just got to swallow our pride and ask for help.” The words taste like ash on my tongue.

That’s all Tate wanted. It’s why she applied for that job. She wanted to help me when I refused to help myself.

“I know,” he mutters.

“Send me the link for what you need. I’ll sort it,” I say, sounding a lot more confident than I feel. He’s going to want the best. Hell, he deserves the best. He’s one hell of a player.

He sighs heavily.

“I mean the ones you really want, not the second-best pair that will lessen your guilt over this. I want to buy them for you, okay?”

“I’ll pick up some more shifts. I’ll?—”

“No, Wilder. Your focus needs to be football right now. It’s your final chance to?—”

“Lori, I?—”

“I want to see you go all the way this year, Wilder. There might be miles between us, but I’m right behind you. And I’ll be there. Your playoff game, the final. I’ll be there screaming louder than everyone else.”

I don’t need to be able to see him to know he’s scrubbing his hand down his face and rubbing at the designer stubble on his jaw.

On the outside, he’s the stereotypical quarterback and bad boy. But there is so much more to Wilder. He has a sweet and vulnerable side that he doesn’t let out very often.

“Okay,” he finally says.

---