Page 63 of Stick Play

I glance up and catch Theo walking by, his ears perked, far too interested in our private conversation. I shift a bit so he can’t see the phone. Something tells me the douche bag already knows anyway, and from his grin, he looks like he’s happy to see me getting reamed out. But I’m not getting reamed out. Coach has a pensive look on his face, not an angry one. What is actually happening here?

“You like her.”

It’s a statement, and it’s a true one. “Yes,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

He nods, and goes quiet again. I prepare myself for him to tell me to break it off, and I can’t help but think it might be best for Gina and Zoe. “This is good for you, Ash.”

“Yeah, okay I’ll end…wait, what did you just say?” Holy Christ, Brady was right. He said Coach might see things this way. I glance up and meet his gaze. When I do, his dark eyes hold nothing but delight and satisfaction.

“You like the idea of me being with a single mom?” My brain is racing, so I’m not entirely sure I heard him correctly.

“It’s stability, Ash. She seems like a nice woman and obviously you adore her daughter as much as she adores you.” He snickers. “There’s a lot being said about her wearing your jersey. Fans are going crazy about that.”

“Really?”

I try to see his phone again, but he tucks it away and sits back. “There’s not going to be any drama with Zoe’s father, is there?”

“No. He’s not in the picture.”

He nods again. “I like this for you. It’s not conventional.” As he falls silent, I realize he’s right. Nothing about Gina or her life is conventional. Her mom leaving her, being raised by her grandparents, a married man who tossed her away when she was pregnant, a nurse running her own café. A sweet, loving woman who’s been doing it all on her own for years now.

“Still,” Coach begins again, pulling my thoughts back. “It’s a good look for you. Good for the team’s image. Besides that, you were on fire last night, and I couldn’t help but think it was to impress your girls.”

My girls…

Fuck me sideways. I love the sound of that.

“Keep up the good work, Ash.”

“Just to be clear, you want me to be seen with Gina and Zoe,” I ask, because I’m dense like that. Truthfully, I need to hear it again, because there’s a part of me that thinks my brain might just be making this shit up.

“Yes. Now go, call your girl. That’s obviously why you were racing to the elevators.”

I stand and none of this sits right with me. While I’m glad Coach isn’t ripping me a new arsehole, being with Gina, and stepping out to get our pictures taken for all to see, seems a little…manipulative. I want to be with her because I’m damn crazy about her. The last thing I want is to exploit what’s going on between us because it’s good for the team’s image.

Shit, this might have gone down worse than I thought.

I walk to the elevator, head down when I hear hushed voices, people recognizing me. Normally I’d stop and sign autographs. Tonight, I’m not in the mood to be around anyone but Gina. Too bad she’s in Boston and I’m in Tampa. I steal a glance at my phone to check the time before I stab the button for the elevator. She had dinner with the girls tonight, and while it’s late, I told her I’d call and I want to keep my word. I don’t, however, want to wake her.

I hurry to my room, happy the guys have all gone to bed, and happy that I have my own room. After I let myself inside, I flop down onto my bed and pull out my phone. I see a text from an unknown number and ignore it.

Relaxing on my pillow as best I can after that weird conversation with Coach, I call Gina and she answers on the second ring. It’s insane what the sound of her voice does to my insides, but as soon as I hear it, and the unease beneath her one word greeting, my stomach tightens. Has she seen all the media hype about Callie, her and Zoe?

“Hey,” I murmur softly. “Not catching you at a bad time, am I?”

“No, not at all.” I hear rustling noises in the background. Is she too in bed? “How was your flight?”

“Delayed, delayed, delayed.”

She chuckles softly. “Yeah, I knew that. Brighton was getting updates from Noah at dinner. Sorry to hear about that. You must be exhausted.”

“I’m okay. How are you?”

“I’m a bit tired.”

“I kept you up too late.” I kick off my shoes and push my blankets down.

“I don’t mind late nights.”

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