Focused: A hate to love sports romance(50)

Rick came up to me and found a seat on the grass. "You're quiet today."

I smiled at him. "Just enjoying the day."

He nodded. His mouth opened like he was going to say something, but he shook his head and stopped.

"What?" I asked him.

"Just ... curious about something," he said carefully, watching Noah and his grandma laugh. We were sitting far enough away that we were out of earshot, and I liked it better that way. Give them privacy where they could take it. "Why do you think he's stayed away for so long?"

My eyebrows popped up at his question. This was the first time Rick had asked my opinion about something of this magnitude. But I supposed it was his job to delve into the hidden layers of his subjects. It was what made him good at his job.

"And you want to know what I think?"

He nodded. "I do. You're intuitive. You've got good instincts when it comes to dealing with someone like him, who was clearly hesitant about this. Now look at him. He barely notices when we're around anymore."

I laughed. "I don't know about that." It wasn't lost on me that I'd ignored his compliment, focusing instead on his observation about Noah. "But thank you," I said carefully. "I like my job. I always have."

"You're good at it." He nudged me with his shoulder. "That's why I'm curious what you see when you look at him."

My face went hot, and I was so incredibly thankful that Rick wasn't looking at me. I thought so, so many inappropriate things when I looked at Noah, none of which Rick needed to know about. I cleared my head of the more lurid ways I could answer that question and focused on the scene in front of us.

"I think," I started slowly, "that it's easier for someone like Noah to stay focused when he keeps blinders on to everything else besides football. Probably to his detriment. Time with his grandma this way, it probably feels like, I don't know, an intrusion on his process, if it comes at the wrong time. So he ignores it. I don't think it means he loves her less, but I think he's so good at compartmentalizing his life that he's separated himself from everything outside of football that matters." I sighed. "And that's sad."

Rick's gaze was heavy on me, but I didn't turn to meet it. I didn't want to know what he'd see in my eyes, in my face, at my answer.

"I think you're spot-on," he said after a minute.

I looked at him when I felt like my face was into a more controlled mask. "Yeah?"

"But it's more than sad," he continued. "It's heartbreaking. When you observe people for a living, like I do, like Marty does, you see where they're headed. Sometimes before they do. And someone like Noah will let his entire life go by unnoticed by the time he retires. He'll finish playing and have nothing left, except for some trophies that mean nothing. Records that hold no weight, except some arbitrary importance that a single, small group of people put on it. Records that can, and will, be broken by someone else someday."

My eyes welled with tears, and I blinked rapidly to push them back.

"And there's nothing I can say that would change that for him," Rick said sadly. "He has to figure that out for himself." He paused and glanced at me again. "I just pray he doesn't ..." He stopped and exhaled heavily. "Shit, I don't know."

"What?"

Rick pierced me with a serious look. "I pray he doesn't hurt someone amazing in the process."

My mouth fell open.

He knew.

"Rick," I whispered.

He held up a hand. "Just the rambles of a man who's seen a lot. Okay? That's all it is."

Even though my heart was thrashing in my chest, I nodded slowly.

His words flipped and turned and tumbled in my head for the rest of the day. I made it a point to stay behind Marty because I was so afraid of what he might catch on my face if that camera turned in my direction.

I was quiet through dinner, another delicious carb and meat heavy affair that was made with obvious love. Noah kept glancing in my direction, but I kept my eyes off him because I was afraid it would be written all over my face.

I could fall in love with you so easily.

And you would break my heart if you couldn't love me back in the way I deserve.

Because Rick was right.

It wasn't my job to fix Noah's priorities. It wasn't my job to show him that he could have it both ways. He could have a life filled with love and family and be the best at his job while he was fortunate enough to do it.

I pretended to read a book while the guys played a card game with Noah's grandma and everyone slowly marched off to bed.

Before Marty went upstairs, I said good night and kept my face even as I clicked the door shut behind me. One single tear slipped out as I washed my face, and I turned the faucet to ice cold to snap myself out of it.

About an hour later, as I stared mindlessly at the screen of my phone where I was huddled under the covers, I heard Noah approach the door. I held my breath, and when he knocked softly, I climbed out from under the blanket and opened it for him.

His eyes searched my face as he walked in. "Are you okay? You were so quiet today."

If one word escaped my lips about how I was feeling, I'd coat the walls with my messy emotional state. So I nodded, my hands reaching for the hem of his shirt to tug it up over his head. He complied but looked concerned as he tossed it to the ground.