Page 7 of Score to Settle
“I won’t interfere in you getting to know Jake for yourself,” Mama says as I lay the table mats. “But I will say this—Dylan is the strong silent type, while Jake and Chase act like life is one big joke. But it is just an act, I can assure you. Jake especially is a hard nut to crack. Don’t give up. He’s sweet as sugar in the middle and I want the world to know it. This feature wasn’t his idea, so you can expect some pushback from him. If you want my advice, don’t hammer him with questions. He doesn’t like opening up at the best of times so let him do it at his own pace. It’s why I wanted you to stay here. He also feeds off emotions, which is why he performs best in front of a cheering crowd. Be patient. Relax around him and he’ll do the same.”
I can’t stop the grimace from reaching my face. Relaxed. Patient. They’re not words anyone has ever used to describe me before. “I can handle it,” I say, hoping it’s true.
Mama’s penetrating gaze finds me again. She pauses for a moment and then nods. “I think you can.” Her confidence in me should be a boost but it has the opposite effect. A crushing wave of what-the-fuck-am-I-doing anxiety sweeps through me again. I have no experience in writing profiles like this on anyone, least of all football stars. I lied to get this job, pretending I knew as much about football as I do other sports. And I didn’t tell Tim that I knew Jake in high school. If Tim learns the truth, I’m finished. And even if he doesn’t, there’s a high chance I’m going to fail so badly,Sports Magazineis going to fire my ass before the week is out. I’ll be humiliated again, but worse because this time my career in journalism will be done and I’ll have nothing.
But before I can freak out any more, Mama is calling up the stairs, “Get your asses down here. Dinner is ready.” She then places a steaming pot of chili on the table in front of me and I take a deep breath as footsteps crash down the stairs.
Relax. I can do that… right?
FOUR
JAKE
DYLAN:Quit being a pussy and get your ass down here. You’re hiding!
JAKE:I’m not!
CHASE:What’s he hiding from?
DYLAN:The reporter is here. Worried she’s going to realize you’re full of shit, Jake?
CHASE:Give her some of the Sullivan charm.
JAKE:Pretty sure she’s immune. Wish you were here, little bro!
DYLAN:If you’re not downstairs in 60 seconds, I’m telling her about the time we stole your clothes after swimming in the lake and you had to walk home butt naked while those scouts were visiting.
I’m royally pissed as I grab Buck’s ball and stride out the back door in the direction of the lake. Does Harper think goingbarefoot with red polish on her toes, wearing tight jeans and a tighter sweater, laughing along to Mama’s favorite stories from our childhoods, is fooling anyone into thinking she’s anything but a hard-nosed journalist out for my blood?
Harper barely looked at me over dinner, let alone asked me a question. I groan, catching the irony. I don’t want a reporter up my ass and she’s not, and I’m still not happy. But it rubs me the wrong way that she’s here twenty-four-seven. Sleeping in Chase’s bedroom. In the room next to mine. It’s not what I signed up for.
One thing she needs to learn is how thin the walls are.
Jake already thinks he’s God’s gift to the world. I’m looking forward to digging deeper to find out if there’s anything underneath.
Even from my bedroom I heard the mocking tone to herif, like she already knew the answer. Harper clearly has her own opinion of me and her own agenda. But she still needs me to open up if she wants her story. If she thinks I’m going to make this easy for her, she can think again.
I didn’t say a word over dinner. Eating up and getting out, heading to the lake to throw the ball for Buck while Dylan bobs in the water a few meters away, working on his knee exercises. Without the sun, the temperature has dropped. I’m grateful for my old college sweatshirt as the first stars appear over our heads. Based on the sprinkling of water I felt when Buck shook his fur a minute ago, the lake is cold as fuck.
“That grumpy ass face of yours is ruining the view,” I call to Dylan, unable to resist the goad. “Have your balls dropped off in that water yet?”
Dylan grits his teeth and ignores me, twisting his body one way then the other.
Buck drops the ball at my feet and barks.
“You wanna go again?” I laugh.
He barks his reply, and I throw the ball so it lands a foot away from Dylan’s face. Buck throws himself after it with an almighty splash, almost drowning Dylan’s angry, “Watch out!”
“Sorry!” I grin, not sorry at all and we both know it.
“You’re a giant dick, Jake.”
I cup a hand to my ear. “What’s that? I have a giant dick? So I’m told. No need to be jealous, Dyl. I hear there’s medication you can get for that now.”
Two years ago, Dylan would’ve grabbed me and pulled me into the lake, the both of us laughing, but now he just growls at me. The guilt hits like a football flying into my gut. We used to be inseparable, especially after Dad died. Dylan is only a year older than me, but he’s always had my back. I don’t think I’d have made it through high school without him breaking up fights and sometimes diving in and throwing a few punches himself before hauling me away.
He hasn’t been the same since his knee popped on the fifty-yard line. I feel sick thinking of the moment I watched from the benches as he went down. It was the third quarter against the Indianapolis Riverrunners. Stormhawks were down by four and needed the win. All eyes were on Dylan as he dropped back for a big pass play. As soon as the ball left his hands, I saw a linebacker barreling toward him at full speed. Dylan tried to jump out the way, but it was too late. The linebacker’s helmet crashed into his knee and I swear I heard the pop from the sideline. I definitely heard the scream of pain he unleashed. I tore across the field and was first by his side as he writhed in agony.
