Page 7 of Tumbling the Cornerback

“Howard,” she sighed. “What the hell, kid?”

The meeting at Caitlin's office was squeezed in just after three, which meant I had enough time to run back to my place, shower, grab a pretty tasteless but balanced prepared meals the team nutritionist had arranged for us, then turn right around and zip back into town. The team's PR office was in an imposing older building in central Austin, one of those really Eighties office towers that screamed oil money built this. Inside, the place wasn't as dated, all decked out in a modern, minimalist style making me afraid to touch anything in case I left a smudge.

Security buzzed me in with barely a glance, and the receptionist offered me a smile, waving me past with a flick of his wrist. "Everyone's upstairs already. They're running early, so don't worry! You're right on time!"

"Everyone? Who's everyone?" I paused at his desk, glancing up at the ceiling as if I could see through the intervening floors into Caitlin's office.

He shrugged. "I don't know all of their names. She's ready for you," he added, glancing at his screen. "She says they're waiting."

Shit.

Thankfully, the elevator was the fast sort. Usually, they made me queasy, but today, it meant less time to dwell on what I was about to walk into. It couldn't be that bad, right? Sure, it was a pain in the ass, and I felt awful Lucas had been given short shrift, but maybe we could issue a statement, I thought. Something official from me, not the team, about how I was proud to be invited to take part in the event and how Lucas had done an awesome job...

A tiny—slightly more selfish than I'd like to admit—part of me imagined Lucas smiling up at me as I gave this fantasy statement to one of the team's pet reporters. In my little daydream, Lucas's eyes were crinkled with amusement and maybe a bit of admiration. He leaned into me, those full lips of his curved in the most damn adorable smile and?—

The doors slid open to reveal his scowling face. Not a single dimple to be had.

The carriage dinged, and the doors started to slide shut before I shoved my foot out, making them bounce back and open once more. "Please exit the elevator," an automated voice ordered. "Please exit the elevator."

I stood there, uneasiness bubbling behind my ribs. Past Lucas, Phil, Cass, and Liesel sat in the plush waiting area. Caitlin's door was shut, but she had to be in her office unless she'd decided to take off for the afternoon and leave us all to duke it out.

Which, judging by the look on Lucas' face, I'd likely lose.

"Oh my god," Lucas muttered. He made an exaggerated come here motion with both hands. "Step away from the elevator."

Phil gave me an up nod, ignoring Lucas entirely. "Hey, Coop. Sorry to ruin your afternoon plans. How'd workout go?"

"Uh, fine," I muttered, slipping away from the carriage and striding towards the waiting area. It was hard not to look at Lucas—I wanted to offer my apologies again, but a slight widening of Phil's eyes and a tiny, almost invisible, shake of his head put me off that idea for the time being. "Really...sweaty."

Lucas snorted softly. "In this heat? Gee, imagine that."

Cass made a quelling sound and muttered, "Lucas. Remember what you promised."

Pressing his full lips into a thin line, he gave one sharp nod in response.

"Sorry," Liesel muttered, looking very sheepish as she offered her hand.

I smiled. We shook hands and did the standard awkward small talk. I was rescued from having to think of another way to mention how hot the weather was when Caitlin flung open her office door. She gave us all a broad, expectant grin. "Well, this is gonna be a thing, huh?"

"Cait," Phil sighed, standing to give her one of those bro-y, professional hugs. "Thanks for getting us together on short notice."

"Well, you know me. Nothing I love more than cleaning up messes."

I winced, my face going hot. "I really didn't intend?—"

"Bup bup bup!" Caitlin shushed me, holding up one hand. "Let's get comfortable. Then we'll talk."

We filed into her spacious office like baby ducks, taking up our perches around her desk in the comfy chairs. The size, accommodating of players' huge frames, made Lucas look like he was lost. He frowned, sinking back into the large leather club chair and tucking his feet up under his thighs. Like me, he'd dressed casually but nicely for this meeting. Where I wore light colors—a pale blue Polo shirt and light khakis—he was in dark red and black, with sharp-toed boots and a thin leather strap around his wrist.

He looked fierce.

Sexy.

And a little annoyed.

"Dude, stop staring," he muttered under his breath while the others started verbally posturing to assert dominance or whatever. "You're weirding me out."

"I like your boots," I blurted, maybe a shade too loud because Phil shot me a slightly confused look before returning his attention to what Liesel was saying.

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