Page 66 of Who's Saving You
“Are we going to talk about this?”
“You’re different when no one’s watching.”
“Careful, Nik. You sound like a man who’s falling.”
And, of course, my fucked-up response,“Too late.”I said it in Greek, and she didn’t question me, but I already know I’m in trouble.
When we got to my condo, the first thing she did was shut herself in her room, and I walked out.
~~
The weight room smells like rubber and sweat. I finish my training session and head for the shower, still hearing the guys chirping behind me. The mood has shifted back to normal again and I can only hope that the chatter Coach Gage was talking about was because of my shitty playtime.
“Yo, Papas, take it easy and let the other rookies eat, huh?” one of the veteran linemen, Knox Garrison, calls out.
I smirk over my shoulder, meeting his cheesy grin. “Never. I’m fucking starving to be here.”
Jameson walks past, claps me on the shoulder,grinning. “It’s exactly why Gage brought you here.” Then, “Yo, Garrison, don’t ever tell him to slow down! We need him on our side!”
I chuckle and disappear into the showers, hearing their laughter, and then stand under the hot water longer than I should, letting the water try to wash away the dirt that’s coming from the past. I take a deep breath and step out with a towel wrapped around my waist. Quickly drying off, my mind, as usual, drifts right back to Noelle.
The weekend was just a big explosion. She wrapped herself around me, allowing me to use her in a way that grounded me, making me feel something more than shame. She doesn’t even know what it is, but what we were trying to hold off couldn’t be held any longer.
There's a league dinner tonight, and it's the last thing I want to do. What I really want is to go back to my condo and see Noelle. I want to feel her out, test what this is between us once more. Instead, my phone buzzes with a text, reminding me I have to be professional tonight.
Eva: Car’s outside.
Mom would hate these dinners, I think to myself as I flip up my collar and throw a tie around my neck. She’d rather be home, cooking lamb and potatoes, the way her mother did. And I find myself wishing I were home for that dinner instead of this one. Eva thrives in these scenarios, and I guess I’m more like Mom; I’d rather just stay hidden.Especially now.But she tells me that showing up will be best. Dane agrees and is meeting us there, and although Eva is never out of character, tonight she swears she’s there as family, not on business.
I send off a text to Stone, making sure Noelle is safe for the night, and slide into the back seat, seeing my sister with her perfect hair and an unreadable expression. As usual, she has perfected the professional look, not letting anyone in.
“I spoke with league PR,” she says. “You’re off-limits to press this week.”
“Hello, dear sister. I’m wonderful, and how are you?”
She gives me a dry look and repeats herself. “No press, Nik.”
“Why?”
“Because you need to focus, and the press doesn’t care about your game right now.”
“Of course they care. I had an amazing game on Thursday. It’s all they’re talking about.”
She studies her perfectly painted nails. “It’s allmostof them are talking about.”
“You still mad over this legacy piece? It’s good PR. All questions so far have been surface-level.”
She rolls her eyes. “So far.”
“Why does this upset you so much?”
She lets out a sigh. “We’ve seen this before. Everyone wants a quote they can twist into a story. Right now, it’s fine, but it will turn. You know this.”
I smooth my hands down the tops of my thighs and look out the window. “I’m not stupid, Eva.”
“No,” she says calmly. “But you’re trusting. Especially with people who have deadlines to feed.”
She doesn’t say Noelle’s name. She doesn’t have to. I bite my lip to keep quiet. I don’t want to fight with my sister, but she and I have different takes on how we deal with the media and our jobs. She wants me closed off, giving just enough, and I agree that certain things need notbe spoken of, but I still have to give some to make the press happy. We drive a couple of blocks in silence before I ask, “Since when does your driver smoke in the car?”
