Focused: A hate to love sports romance(58)

I couldn't spare any of my rioting attention to Beatrice, but the fact that she stood and walked briskly from the office was answer enough. Silence descended when she slammed the door shut behind her. Closing my eyes, I tried to remember what it had felt like just an hour earlier.

Apathy sounded like heaven.

Not caring sounded like the best kind of escape I could have imagined.

And in that, I recognized it for what it had been: protection. I insulated myself in numbness because without it, I would have had to admit what Rick was telling me now. That Molly slid through an unseen chink in my armor and planted herself there, right next to my heart. A hole in my rib cage I hadn't known about before she showed up in that elevator. That space inside me belonged to her now.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to rip down the walls.

I wanted to find her.

"You hate me right now," Rick said calmly. "And I don't blame you."

Slowly, I lifted my head and stared at him. The side of my jaw twitched, and I knew I couldn't let a single word escape my mouth until the rage lessened. But all I could think about was her. How she'd feel when she heard about this.

"If I find out that you got a single second of footage of Molly without her consent, or a single moment we thought was private … if there's a fraction of a frame on that film that makes her look like she's being disrespected, I will make your life hell on earth," I vowed.

In the seconds after I spoke, it took me a moment to realize that he started smiling.

"What?" I snapped.

"And you still don't see it," he mused.

I shoved my hands into my hair and tugged on the strands. "Quit talking in circles, Rick."

He leaned toward me. "Think about what you just said to me. It wasn't about how you look, if you come off bad, or if it tarnishes your reputation. You'd tear my life apart if I did something to her."

My hands dropped numbly into my lap.

"She stepped back because she cared more about you being focused going into this season. She stepped back because it hurt her too much to be around you. And you let her. I'm not saying that you care less about her, but holy hell, Noah, for such a smart man, you are a fucking idiot when it comes to what you feel."

I swallowed roughly.

He turned his laptop and punched a few buttons. "There, I'm sending you our rough concept trailer. I'd intended to show it to you today before you and Beatrice lost your ever-loving, control-freak minds," he mumbled. After he snapped the laptop shut, he faced me again.

"H-how did you know?" My voice sounded like someone took a rusty, chewed-up chainsaw to my throat.

"Please," Marty said. "The day she stopped filming with us, you flipped the switch into Terminator mode. It was like watching a cyborg pretend to be a human."

I gave him an unamused look.

He tapped his camera. "Can't argue with me on this, buddy. I have it on film."

Rick held up a hand. "On film or not, whether you agree or not, I like you and I like Molly. I think you guys are great together." He leaned in. "But if you can't pull your head out of your ass long enough to realize what you found in her, then you don't deserve her."

Chewing on his words was slow and uncomfortable because the grain of truth was so big that it was unavoidable. I stared at him for a minute before speaking.

"I thought you weren't supposed to force action."

He laughed. "You know, my wife was filming a nature documentary a couple of years ago, and a flock of penguins got stuck in a ravine. The crew had to watch, completely helpless, as dozens of birds tried and tried and tried to get out to no avail. And if they did nothing, that entire flock would've died. So they broke their rule about intervening and carved stairs in the ice and snow, and the penguins marched right out of that ravine as soon as they had the chance."

I shook my head. "Not sure that's a flattering comparison if you're me."

He slapped me on the back. "They were smart enough to climb those stairs, Griffin. All I'm asking you to do is open your eyes. Once you do, your life will never be the same."





Chapter Twenty-Three





Molly





My office was quiet as I typed out a reply to an email that had been sitting in my inbox for all of two minutes. The plus side to absolutely no social life for the past eight weeks was that I was on top of my game at work.

Sure, the dark circles under my eyes were as dark as the movies I'd been bingeing, and I'd accidentally bawled my eyes out watching a holiday romance movie on Netflix when I was too lazy to get up and find the remote, but at work, I was slaying.

Turns out having your heart bruised up was excellent for your professional life.

I was a quick email replier, and Noah was breaking sack records left and right.

Okay, fine, my accomplishment didn't sound as impressive as his, but I'd take my victories where I could get them.

I typed harder, ignoring the impulse to pull out my phone and watch the footage of him getting the game ball in the locker room from the day before. He'd looked ... bored.

In the seven times I watched it the night before, tucked under my covers so Isabel couldn't hear me and hide my phone, I studied his face. He was smiling, but behind his eyes, I saw no spark. Absolutely nothing. And it tore uneven holes in my heart.