Page 11 of Sneak Attack

She knew what I meant. What I was and wasn’t saying.

“Difference is, y’all were kids and made mistakes. No harm meant even though tragedy hit. Doesn’t mean it can’t be made right is all, and I know how hard that was for you. But now that she’s back, maybe you can finally put the past to rest.” She came to me and settled her soft palm on my arm. Her cool hand was ice to my burning bicep, and I barely resisted a flinch. “I want that foryoumore than anyone else, Cole. It’s time.”

I yanked my arm away and stepped back. “I need to go pick up Bongo. And stay out of this, Ma. You don’t know everything.”

“I know more than you think. Always did, and maybe I’ve kept my mouth shut long enough.”

“Please.” I scoffed, although the threat sent a tingle of ice pricks at the back of my neck. “You ain’t ever kept your mouth shut for anything or anyone and you know it.”

I grinned at her, softening the insult while Ma shook her head and tightened her low ponytail. “Love you, Cole. Always will. And Jasper. Selma too in my own way.”

The way that meant forced Southern politeness with mutteredbless her heartsbeneath her breath. It was better than it’d once been though, back when Selma learned she was pregnant.

“I know, Ma.” I went to her and kissed her cheek before saying my goodbyes.

* * *

Training camp was always the hardest part of preseason training. I only had Jasper half the time as it was and then giving him up for a full week made my heart seize in a way I never could have predicted before becoming a parent. Fortunately for Jasper, he had a ton of family around to keep him busy when I was working. Not only did his mom and I co-parent well all things considered, but both of us had parents in town. Jasper had an aunt, Selma’s sister who lived in Nashville and visited often, and my brother who was in his senior year of college, came home as often as he could from Georgia.

We just got back from camp a week ago and had one week before our first preseason game. I had to spend my time focusing on what was important—the family I’d built since she tore out my heart—and my job. I was twenty-six, still a baby in the league, and while I might have gotten the starter spot with the Steel on a lucky break due to an injury, and then subsequent retirement, of our former quarterback, I’d worked my ass off last year to earn the privilege of keeping that spot.

Last year, our team had lost in our wild card playoff game, the first time Nashville had made the playoffs in five years. There were eyes on us then, since I didn’t start until game seven and once I took over we were undefeated the rest of the season. Everyone’s expectations were higher this year—the owners, coaches, management, players, and most of all, the fans. The stress heavier. Once I’d taken over last year, there’d been chatter of our team going either way as we struggled to find our balance with a younger roster, and a handful of our defense line retiring. We proved all the critics incorrect, which meant now those same critics expected us to do better, take the team farther. There was a thrum of electricity in the stands at training camp, chatter in the streets when I spent time in Nashville.

The Steel’s fans wanted us to have a ring. Wanted us to bring the Super Bowl Championship to their beloved city and they were all relying on me to get the job done.

For the next five to six months, my sole focus needed to remain cemented where it’d been the last five years.

On Jasper and my goals and my job.

The last thing I needed was the distraction of Eden.

Which was why the fact I was huffing and puffing through my workouts was even more frustrating.

“Bruh. What is your problem?” Dawson Butler, our tight end and one of my closest teammates, grunted as he helped spot my bench press. “You’ve been struggling all day.”

“Nothing.” I shoved to sit, sweat dripping down the sides of my face and I wiped it off with the hem of my shirt before it hit the scruff of my beard. “An off day.”

“You don’t have those.”

Dawson was big, burly with hair past his shoulders he usually had up in a man-bun while he worked out. Today he’d left it down and it clung to his equally sweaty shirt with the sleeves ripped off. He and I were also drafted together, but while I had to wait until my time came to earn my starting spot, he was already breaking scoring and receiving records left and right, blowing guys who had been in the league for ten years out of the water with his speed, skill, and ability to hurdle most defenders who tried to dive for him.

He hadn’t let any of the success change him though. He was as much of an asshole now, as he was the day we first met.

“Everyone’s entitled to them.” I grabbed my towel and stood off the bench.

The last thing I was going to talk about was my bad day, or the reason for it. I was supposed to be forgetting her existence.

If only that had worked in the last seven years, it might not be so difficult now.

“Is it Jasper? Selma?”

“Leave it, Butler. It’s fine.”

I was harsher than intended and didn’t bother taking it back or apologizing. Butler was known for being a jerk and not just to his teammates, but to his coaches and media. The man showed up to play, hung out occasionally in small groups with the team when he had to, and then who knew what he did besides live like a hermit.

“You’re never like this.”

I glared at him, draping the towel over my shoulders. “And you usually don’t ask so many damn questions.”

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