by Timms, Lexy
“Name one.”
“Last night, today in the shower…” she ticked them off on her fingers.
“Look,” Nate said. “Up until you, sex was just sex and I never had any shortage of partners. I didn’t know that it could be this different, so random hook-ups were part of the bennies for being ten, too.”
“And now?”
He shrugged. “Now, I’m retiring. That makes me an old man with a gold watch. Can’t get more grown up than that.”
She bit her lip. “You’re too young, Nate, you’ve got so many good years left…”
“Yeah,” he said, “I do. And each year, I have a ton—literally a ton—of muscle and bone and stink that falls on me. I’ve broken six bones, had an uncountable number of bruises, twisted, sprained, and damaged knees, ankles, wrists, neck, ribs, and even my left hip once. How many good years is my body going to last under that every week?”
“But you love it,” she said, knowing in her heart that football was as much a part of him as the scar on the back of his right hand.
Nate said nothing, just continued to drive in silence to the mall on the south end of the city and found a parking spot after nearly twenty minutes of searching.
“I’m sorry,” she said, needing to break the silence as he took her hand in his. They walked across the parking lot. “It’s your decision, I don’t have the right…”
“Hey!” someone cried. “It’s the Bouncing Broncos Girl!” Two rather large heavyset men with large smiles came running up to them. Amanda could feel Nate tense. It felt protective. Right up until she realized he seriously was preparing for a fight.
“Nate…”
“Oh shit!” The second guy was the first one to notice that there was a rather large man with his hand crushing that of the Bouncing Broncos Girl. “It’s Nate Turner!”
“TNT!”
A crowd began to gather. “‘Bouncing Broncos Girl’ was echoed more than once. Amanda somehow managed to get her hand free and shook it to get the circulation going again. “Nate, we should…” She tried to steer him into the restaurant.
“I thought she was fucking Billy Bartock,” someone said from the growing crowd. There had to be a dozen people around them by now. Mostly males.
“She is!” said another voice. “It was in today’s paper!”
“Shit, she gets around!”
“Hey, Nate, you like sloppy seconds?”
Nate spun, tearing his arm from Amanda. She grabbed at him, wrapping both hands around his bicep, and tried to drag him away. Her heart pounded and she blinked back tears as she begged him to come with her.
Did Nate seriously just growl?
The crowd shifted, giving him some space. They might not have a lot of respect for TNT, but no one was willing to mess with him.
“Shit,” someone said in the sudden silence. “She really is the Broncos’ girl, isn’t she? A pass-around girl!”
There were more than a few laughs and Nate was now in a fury, only barely restrained.
“Nate…”
He glanced at her. Saw her face. It was no longer her tugging at him. He grasped her wrist, then turned and strode through the doors of the mall, as if daring someone to get in his way, towing Amanda behind him like an errant child.
Three people scrambled to clear a path before the angry freight train that Nate had become plowed through. Two of them tangled in each other’s legs and went down in a heap. Nate was now in full blown rage and she could feel him trembling as she held his arm.
“Hey, let me know when she’s gone through the team and is starting on the fans,” someone called from somewhere behind them, and the crowd erupted in laughter except for the occasional murmured ‘shut up’ that was said softly as if afraid to be heard.
Nate stalked into the restaurant next to the front door of the mall and stopped at the front desk, asking for a table for two without actually unclenching his jaw. Nate in a fury was a daunting sight. Amanda couldn’t reconcile the devil that held her wrist with the quiet gentleman who had caressed her cheek less than an hour ago. It was like being a part of the Jekyll and Hyde story, and her entire body ached for the tenderness of the morning.
She wished that they’d stayed in bed, with her being snuggled, held, and protected.
“Nate,” she said quietly, “you’re hurting me.”
He released her immediately. “I’m sorry. I just needed to get away and I couldn’t leave you there.” He was visibly shaking.
“Thank you for not leaving me,” Amanda said, rubbing her wrist.
“I really am sorry.” He glanced down at her arm. “Do you need to have that looked at?” His concern was genuine, and she did see in his eyes that he was as upset about her wrist as he was angry at the crowd.
“No, I’m sorry. I… I don’t know why they called me that… well,” she colored, “I do, but I was just trying to get Billy’s attention, to find out where you’d gone.”
“Is that what they meant?” Nate asked.
Amanda was confused. “Who meant what?”
“Them,” he gestured to the crowd that had all but dispersed. The original two men had their phones out and were snapping pictures through the window of the restaurant. As they watched, a security guard showed up and shooed them off.
“What they said about you and Billy in today’s papers,” Nate clarified, his eyes narrowing. “You were in yesterday’s paper; what’s today’s?”
“I don’t know,” Amanda quit rubbing her wrist. “If you recall, I was with you all day, so I haven’t had a chance to go to a newsstand,” she snapped, not liking where this was going.
He looked around and reached into his back pocket to retrieve his phone. He tapped it a few times and his face fell before becoming unreadable again. He handed her the phone.
There was a picture of her and Billy at the Chinese restaurant last night. He was leaning in. It was when he was trying to tell her he needed a beard and she was too dense to understand. It looked like they were on a tryst. She even had her hand on Billy’s leg.
Bouncing Broncos Girl Bounces from Bronco to Bucking Bronco read the caption.
Amanda laughed. “Wow, if they only knew.”
“Knew what?” Nate asked. He wasn’t laughing.
“Nothing,” Amanda said quickly. Damnit. She had to watch her tongue a hell of a lot better than this. “Nothing. Nate, Billy just wanted to talk to me. We had dinner.”
“You left with him, in his car.”
Amanda started to get angry again. “Wait a minute here. Please remember, Mr. Turner, that at that time I was still a hired hand. I was hired to pretend I was your girlfriend.”
“So the beach was pretending?” Nate stepped back and crossed his arms, his expression becoming rather dark. Brooding.
“Excuse me, your table is ready!” The hostess went from chipper to uncertain in the time it took for her to grab the menus from the podium. She looked from one to the other, then over to her manager for help.
“No!” Amanda said, ignoring the interruption, “No, of course not.”
“Then why did you go on a date with Billy?”
“It wasn’t a date!” Amanda shoved a hand through her hair, not caring that she’d just messed up her hairstyle completely. “He just wanted to talk. That’s all!”
“Wait, if you went home with him…”
“I DID NOT!” Amanda shouted, stomping her foot.
Nate stared at her. “You said he took you home.”
“No, I didn’t say that! But, yes, he did.”
“Why didn’t you drive?”
“Because your girlfriend was blocking the driveway!” Seriously, what was this, the Inquisition? He was between her and the door. Leaving was looking better and better.
The hostess had been replaced with a man in a suit and tie. The manager, from the look of things, who was fast losing patience with his celebrity guest. “I’m sorry, Mr. Thomas, if you’re not wanting the table I am going to have go give it to another guest.�
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“I DUMPED HER!” Nate’s voice carried far enough that the restaurant around them was going silent, as the customers dropped their own conversations in favor of the drama playing out in front of them.
Amanda looked at the manager. At the growing audience. She stepped in to speak, keeping her voice pitched low. “I didn’t date Billy! The entire idea is ridiculous!”
“Why?”
She threw up her hands, discretion abandoned in frustration. “Because I can’t tell you! That’s why!”
“What?”
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave, please.” The manager was no longer smiling, and the hostess appeared to be calling security.
“I was just thinking that very same thing,” Nate said coldly, and stalked out.
Amanda turned to the hostess and manager in confusion. She smiled and a thought suddenly crossed her mind. Shit! My car’s still in the temporary parking lot at the airport, isn’t it?
The girl she’d seen in the mirror collapsed onto a bench as life around her resumed. A couple was seated, probably where she and Nate were supposed to be. The manager gave her a nasty look but left her alone. The wait staff kept a wary distance. Amanda didn’t even bother to look up when someone took her picture with their phone.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” the hostess asked sympathetically.
“Call me a cab?” Amanda asked and fished around in her purse to root out her single emergency-only credit card. She played with it between her fingers. “Not even Bogart is going to work tonight.”
She stifled a sob.
Here’s looking at you, kid.
Chapter 18
“Thanks for seeing me, Coach Johnson.” Amanda nervously slipped a strand of hair behind her ear. “And for coming in on your day off.” She stared at the floor. She’d taken one look at him, and had decided this was the better choice. Coach wasn’t happy. It was obvious from the way he had his arms crossed. Even the scowl he habitually wore seemed deeper somehow. He looked like a crude carving made of iron, someone’s first attempt at making a bust, but the metal was just too implacable.
“You said it was important,” he reminded her as the silence lengthened. It was amazing how quiet his office was. You’d think a place like this, right between the locker room and gymnasium, would have more sound bleeding through the walls.
You’d think there would be more distractions.
“I wanted to thank you.” She swallowed hard. “You offered me a great job, and I… wasn’t able to do it for you. I think I need to stay with children from now on. Less… complicated.”
She glanced up to see how he was taking the news. For a moment, the iron that comprised his face softened to some degree. He uncrossed his arms. Leaned back in his chair. Relaxed. “I read the papers, too. I know you’re not dating Billy.”
This was the last thing she’d expected. She sat up, looked right at him. “You do?”
He smiled. “It’s more than a little obvious. Billy’s preferences are easy to spot, but it’s never affected his game or his team.”
“Billy’s afraid you’ll find out.”
Coach shrugged. “Look at me.” He stood and let his hands fall to his sides.
Amanda shrugged. “I’m sorry, what am I supposed to be seeing?”
“What do I look like to you?”
It was a test, and she still wasn’t sure what he was asking. “Big, tough, scary…?”
“You know that I’m barely an inch taller than you are.”
Amanda started. Coach was one of those people who took over a room just by walking in to it. He filled any space to overflowing, and if he so much as cleared his throat every conversation stopped. He was Coach, not just a name or a job description. It was an entity unto itself… COACH.
He was right; if she’d been wearing her stilettos she would have towered over him.
Coach sat again, reaching for his ever-present cup of coffee, and drank before speaking. “My grandfather owned a cattle ranch. He was about my size, little smaller in the gut, maybe, but it was hard living.” His face softened a little. A good memory then.
Amanda nodded, feeling the knots in her stomach come loose just a little bit.
“I remember one summer I was out there to help and he had this bull. It was a ton and half of meat and muscle and had the brainpower of a hamster. That bull terrorized the entire place, no one could get near it but my grandfather. He showed up and that bull turned into a docile little baby, ‘cause it feared him, yes, but also because he was a hard man. But fair. He never hurt that bull. But didn’t let it be in charge either.”
Amanda wasn’t quite getting it. There was something profound here, she inferred that from the seriousness of his posture and the urgency with which he looked at her. Expectant, like he thought she should get it. But it was slipping past her. He must have seen that.
“You are what you present yourself. I have 400-pound professional football players who are trained, taught, and schooled to slam into each other at high speed. I have men who are young and healthy and towering over me who respect me because I command their respect. I accept that as my due. If you don’t, you’ll never get it from anyone. Not even children.”
Amanda nodded miserably. She’d been thinking the same thing for some time, actually. If she couldn’t handle one overgrown teenager in the body of a pro-football player, what did she think she could do with kids who really needed her, who needed her help?
But that wasn’t the matter at hand, was it? This was about Nate. And what she’d been hired to do here.
“I don’t think this is a good for me, or the team, and especially not for Nate,” she said after a long pause. “I think I really just need to move on.” She looked up, biting her lip. Unsure. “Please?”
Coach shrugged, though the disappointment on his face let her know she’d let him down. The knots in her stomach tightened right back up again. Please don’t let me throw up. “You’re not an indentured servant; you can leave when you like. You’re an intelligent woman. It’s your choice.” He sighed a little as he said it.
“I don’t feel very smart right now,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “At least when you’re in charge of children, you don’t end up…”
“…falling in love with them?” Coach finished for her.
Amanda nodded. “It got complicated.”
“So where to then?”
She shrugged. “I thought maybe I would stay at my parents’ house for a while, try to figure things out from there. I need to get moved out of Nate’s house. I wanted to ask you, if I could get some of the last check in advance. I ended up with a $650.00 parking ticket at the airport.”
Coach blinked at that. “Where the hell did you park, a fireplug in the loading zone?”
“No, I shared a cab with Nate on the way home. I was such an idiot on the plane and, well, I forgot the stupid car was there…”
“Give me the ticket, the team will pay for that,” Coach said and held out his hand. “You did get the car back?”
She nodded and rummaged in her purse until she found it. “I had to pay to get it out of the lot. It kinda took every penny I had,” she said as she handed it to him.
“I’ll see to it that you’re reimbursed right away,” he assured her. “Tell me something, though…”
Amanda glanced up from stuffing the contents back into her purse.
“You told everyone that Nate was going to retire, you shot your mouth off repeatedly on things best kept private, but if you’d told everyone that Billy was gay Nate wouldn’t be jealous right now.”
“You think he’s jealous?” A compact fell to the floor. Followed by a feminine product that should have embarrassed her, but didn’t. She was so beyond petty embarrassments right now.
“Why didn’t you say anything about Billy when you had no problem telling the world about Nate?”
She shrugged, and bent to retrieve the wayward item. “I’m an idiot?”
�
�No,” he said with a heavy sigh, “you’re not an idiot, you’re just acting like one. Why?”
“Because I’m not in love with Billy,” Amanda cried. “I don’t want to Nate to retire. Not yet! It would kill him.”
Coach nodded. “So will this.”
“I can’t stay,” Amanda said softly, dumping the last items back into the purse and standing up to go. “I’m sorry.”
“I see that.” Coach nodded and stepped around to the other side of his desk, hand outstretched to shake hers. “Thank you for your time and efforts. You’ll be missed. Be safe.”
Amanda stood her ground. Her mouth opened and closed and the room started to swim through the tears that gathered in her eyes. Her throat was dry and she found she was trembling. A part of her had thought he would fight her, beg her, force her to stay. A part of her wanted him to. She would have taken the coward’s way out, and stayed and made things worse if he had fought her. But instead he stood there and shook her hand like the whole thing meant nothing. He truly was an immovable object.
Amanda bolted. She fled through the building and out to her car and there found sanctuary, a hole in the chaos that was her world. There she wept.
After a while, a heartbeat, a lifetime—it was all the same—she started the car and wiped her eyes.
It was time to go home.
Chapter 19
“Well, Ms. Jones.” There was nothing friendly about the woman behind the desk. She had hair that had been dark at one time, run through with iron-grey streaks, pulled back so tightly from her head into a bun that it was a wonder her features weren’t distorted all out of proportion. Somehow the woman even managed a frown, brow creasing and nose wrinkled up like she’d just seen something disgusting on the bottom of her shoe.
Sadly, she was staring at Amanda.
The sun blazed outside of the window and Colorado Springs traffic sliced past the window in silence. The laughter and screams of children permeated the building and Amanda noticed that Mrs. Klinger had, in addition to the two adult seats on Amanda’s side of the desk, two smaller, child-size chairs.
