Page 8 of Sidelining the Safety

MAC

Katy leaned against the counter next to Mac and rested her head on his shoulder. She batted her eyelashes. “You’re smitten.”

Mac scoffed. “Am not.”

Katy straightened as she laughed. “Are too. Don’t deny it. Only one other person puts that kind of smile on your face.”

“What are you talking about?” Mac peered down at his sister. He worried, noticing not for the first time the dark smudges under her eyes. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, but just as quickly, shook her head. “I’ve got some stuff going on.”

Mac tucked his phone away and put his arm around her, pinning her to his side in a half-hug. “Anything I can help with?”

“I wish.”

“You can talk to me. Anytime. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, thanks. I just… can’t right now. I’m kinda hoping the problem will go away on its own.” She turned away from him, occupying herself with straightening the stack of silverware.

Problem? That got Mac’s attention. “Is there an issue with the diner? Do we need to hire more people? Get the accountant involved?”

“It’s personal, Mac.”

He stared at her back and saw her shoulders sag. Oh, fuck. Momma had done that right before she’d hit them with some not-so-great news. They’d gone through the whole breast cancer ordeal with her a couple of years ago. “Is it… medical?” He hoped, hoped, hoped this wasn’t a repeat. They’d get through it, but he prayed she’d said no.

“Fuck no, thank God.” She turned around enough to glare at him.

Mac let out a relieved breath. “I had to ask.”

“Ugh.” She batted him lightly on the chest before hugging him. “Thanks for being a great brother. I promise I’ll come talk to you if I need to.”

Mac tightened his arms around her, a silent offering of his support. “That’s all I ask.”

CHAPTER 7

LEE

Lee dragged ass into the locker room. With the way he felt, the hard wooden bench looked like the comfiest chair ever. He must have clocked ten miles in hard sprints, and damn, he’d never caught that many balls before in a single practice. His arms were a mess of red, swollen flesh from the punted ball slapping his forearms.

Coach J seemed happy though, so Lee chalked it up to a win and thanked God when Coach turned him over to the defensive line practice. Coach Mike took one look at him and sent him to the locker room, muttering about Jax working his players too hard.

“Matty!” Yowie bounced into the dressing room. “Whoa. Do not sit down. Head right to medical and get those arms iced. Shit. Why didn’t you say something?”

Lee narrowed his eyes and peered at Yowie.

“Oh fuck.” Yowie put an arm around Lee’s back and steered him toward the med room. “You came from one of those old-timey coaches, huh? The ones who never let you quit? You can’t do that here. If you’re hurting, you gotta speak up because it's better to catch a problem before it becomes a problem, you get me?”

Lee grunted. “Would’ve been nice for someone to say that to me sooner.” Yes, he was absolutely throwing Yowie under the bus, but at that moment, he couldn’t have cared less. His arms fucking throbbed and his legs felt like jelly.

Yowie frowned but didn’t reply as he pushed through the swinging door. “Dr. Rosie, I got a live one for you.”

“It better not be you, Aiden,” she threw back, not bothering to look his way, her gaze focused on her computer. “You were just here.”

“Not me.”

Her head snapped his way at that; her body followed. The teasing smile faded as she strode across the room from her desk. “Lee, right? What happened?”

“Coach J put him through his paces,” Yowie snickered. “Arms and legs, yeah?”

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