On the Shore (Cottonwood Cove, #3)(19)
I hate you.
Right back at you, sweetheart.
Why was I excited to let her interview me? I hated this shit.
But I was counting down the hours until tomorrow morning.
seven
Brinkley
My phone vibrated as I made my way toward the cove, and I glanced down to see the group chat already going.
Hugh
The football player that we are all supposed to hate has apparently hired Brinks to tell his story, and she’s yet to mention it.
Cage
Absolute bullshit. You demand we hate a guy that we’ve idolized for years, and now you’re working for him and fail to mention that?
Don’t get your panties in a twist. He hired me last night. The sun has barely come up. I haven’t had a chance to fill you in yet.
Georgia
Go Brinks. Do you still hate him?
Of course, I still hate him. He’s the devil. But I need this story, and he’s willing to tell it.
Hugh
He was also worried about her being with Breen Lockhart and came out of his way to ask me to make sure she got home safely.
Did someone give you a bottle of truth serum this morning, Loose Lips Reynolds?
Georgia
Swoon. <heart eyes emoji>
Hugh
Just speaking the truth, Brinks.
Finn
Damn. Hard to hate a dude who was looking out for you.
It’s all part of his game. He and Breen have a beef over a personal issue.
Cage
Release us from this ridiculous demand to hate the man. I haven’t been right since I agreed to this stupid pact.
Did you not make us all swear that we’d never talk to Jimmy Peters again after he stole your fifth-grade book report?
Cage
I was ten years old. You can befriend the dude now if you want. Mind you, he’s missing two teeth and reeks of whiskey every time I see him at Roddy’s Motor Shop. But have at it. He’s all yours.
Hugh
He smelled like pickles to me when I was there last week.
Finn
Interesting. I thought he smelled like deviled eggs.
Georgia
I’m kind of hungry now.
I’m here. First meeting with your favorite QB. You can worship the man if you want, you big traitors.
Georgia
Maddox will be so happy. Can you take a selfie with him for me?
<eyeroll emoji>
Cage
Send me the selfie.
Finn
I want it, too.
Hugh
Well, if everyone else is getting it, just send it my way.
<middle finger emoji>
I tucked my phone into my fanny pack and continued walking. I’d always been a morning person, so I didn’t mind meeting him this early for a run. I’d played collegiate volleyball. I could hold my own when it came to cardio. And I couldn’t wait to see if he was a man of his word or if this was just some sort of twisted game for him.
He’d acted irrationally last night when he saw me with Breen.
Breen was a playboy, and of course, he’d taken his shot.
But he’d missed.
Because I could take care of myself, and I didn’t need warnings from some arrogant NFL player who’d been an ass to me more times than he hadn’t.
Now he was suddenly concerned about me?
I made my way through the trees and down toward the cove. It was a gorgeous morning. A perfect day for a run. The sun was shining, and I could hear the water lapping against the shore as I made my way to our meeting point.
It had been a nice break being back home. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the simple things, like a quiet morning or a peaceful run outside versus a busy gym in the city.
I’d been working in my garden and had even started cooking and exploring new recipes.
Life was slower here.
Calmer.
Easier.
I looked up to see Lincoln standing with his arms folded over his chest, glaring at me.
“You’re late.” He raised a brow.
I glanced down at my watch and laughed. “It’s 7:02. Seriously? You’re calling me late?”
“I was here at seven.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’m here now. Are you going to tell me what’s off-limits and what I’m at liberty to ask you while we run?”
“No. The run is just to get some exercise. We can make small talk. Nothing I say on the run is on the record. Got it?”