Only the more I try to reflect, the more opposition my mind gives me. It’s like it’s got whiplash, which I can fully understand. We’ve gone all over the place with this guy from war to kindness to…well, jury is still out.
I can see Austin pacing the yard from my spot and it makes me smile; there’s a delicious ease in the way he moves, his muscular frame silhouetted in the sunshine with a dog on his heels as he paces, focusing on whoever is on the other end of his call.
To me, being around Austin is like biting into one of those chocolate hard shells you pour over ice cream. It’s a little odd, almost jarring—the way it’s hard and crusty, not smooth and warm like fudge. You expect something sweet and rich, but instead, you get this cold, stiff exterior that takes a bit of effort to crack through.
However, once you do break through, there’s something underneath that’s worth it. The softness isn’t warm, though—it’s still ice cold, just like the ice cream inside. Maybe that’s not the perfect comparison, because while the shell might be cold, there’s something about discovering that softer side of him that makes you want to keep digging deeper, to see if there’s warmth hiding somewhere after all.
The door closes in the kitchen, signaling Austin’s return. But so does Harley, who comes running in and throws herself next to me, panting, with a tennis ball in her mouth.
I point to the ball as Austin comes into the room. “Where did you get that?”
He shrugs. “It was on the driveway. Maybe she brought it with her?”
I look at Harley, and Harley looks back at me with big brown eyes. “Well, at least you brought your own toys.”
“Be careful, she may see Jared pull up wearing one of his costumes and think he’s a giant squeaky toy,” Austin says with a laugh.
“Good point,” I agree. “But, since she’s not my dog, I probably don’t need to worry about that.”
Austin grins. “Probably.”
I head into the kitchen, taking my mug with me and grabbing Austin’s empty one as I go. “More coffee?”
“Please,” he says as he follows me. “I had to slam mine during that call.”
“Good news?” I ask. Not that I expect him to share it with me, considering we were at each other’s throats a mere twenty-four hours ago.
“It was my coach, Coach Donovan from Tampa Bay. Looks like I’m going back to practice soon.”
Now there’s a surprising bit of information. “You are?”
“Before I came over last night, I found out that I’m one assessment away from being allowed to train again for the team.”
“Really?” I put the coffee pot down in mid-pour and stare at him blankly at first as his words sink in, then I clap my hands together in excitement. “That’s amazing! You’ve got to be so thrilled.”
“When Emma told me, I was thrilled. I was so surprised I didn’t know what to do, but I wanted to tell someone.” He shakes his head. “But then all I could think about was the fact I’d been so rude to you. To everyone around me. It made me question the karma of it all, how I was getting the good end of the stick, you know?”
I go back to pouring our coffee, then handing him his mug. “Austin, you were sidelined from a horrific injury and it sounds like you have been beating yourself up and doing that thing people do to themselves where they blame their actions for all the things wrong in the world.”
He takes the mug from me and leans against the counter. “What do you mean?”
“Look, I’ve worked with extreme achiever personalities—what else would you get in LA when you’re dealing with actors and billionaires and all that jazz? You’re an athlete, you are your craft. Much like an actor is. When things go wrong, you blame yourself and only you, and then those around you mistake your passion for venom.”
“But Iwasbeing venomous,” he pipes up. “That’s why I came over here. I wanted to take accountability for how I’ve acted. I can do that with my family, and I will, but I don’t know. For some reason yesterday it was more important that I make things right with you first.”
“I appreciate that, and it’s a good thing you did. It would seem I needed your help at the same time last night, so…” I smile and head back into the living room. “It’s a win-win.”
“I guess so,” he says with a chuckle as he settles into my recliner. “You’re very forgiving. Should I be worried? Am I going to go home and secretly, while I’ve been here, you’ve had a thousand pounds of cattle crap dumped in my living room?”
“Now that would be a great prank, but no.” I snort. “I’m not that organized nor that vindictive. But the mud splattering…yeah, you pushed me with that one.”
“I feel like I’ll be apologizing to you for a long time,” he says, wincing.
“At least as long as we live next to each other.” I snap my fingers. “Don’t forget, you need to call those tenants today. Just let them know I spoke to you and that you’re aware of the issues. If they hear your voice and know things are in the works, everyone will calm down.”
“Which means Levi will calm down, too,” he says with a grin.
“Exactly.”
