We both knew. He could lose everything.
I suddenly felt just a little bit like an asshole. “I just wanted to be sure you were doing okay. That’s all.”
Even though his face, by that point, was tipped down, I noticed the ripple in his trapezius muscles telling me what I wanted to know. He was all right, but he was stressed. “Everything is going better than anyone expected. The trainers are happy with my progress. I’m doing everything they’re telling me to.”
I couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “You know that’s one of the things I used to like the most about you. You know what you want and you’ll do whatever you have to get it. It’s really…” Attractive wasn’t the right word, and it definitely wasn’t the one I would choose to willingly say out loud in front of him. “Admirable.”
Honestly, looking back on my word choice fifteen seconds later, I knew that I’d meant what I said with the best intentions, but when I took in the lines bracketing the mouth I’d kissed a week ago, maybe it hadn’t come out that way.
“You don’t anymore?” His question was low.
Shit. “No, I do,” I backtracked and reached up to mess with my glasses, remembering right then that I’d taken them off, and dropped my hand. “I don’t know why I said I used to. I still do. You inspired me to quit, you know. I figured you of all people would understand why I did it.”
He turned his head so slowly, it was honestly a little creepy. But the way he looked at me…？ I wouldn’t know how to describe it. The only thing I knew for sure was it made the space between my shoulder blades tickle.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, that hard mouth twitching as he nodded almost reluctantly. “I understand.” He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the ground, getting to his feet and pulling his heel back toward his butt. “How’s your work going?”
Oh, lord. This might be the longest and most personal conversation we’d ever had. It was kind of exciting. “It’s been steady. I’ve been able to take on more projects, so I can’t complain.” I glanced at him to see if he was listening and he was. “I actually just got invited to go to one of the biggest romance novel conventions in the country, so that’s pretty exciting. I should be able to get more work if I go.”
“I thought you do book covers?” he asked.
“I do, but they let other people have tables as long as they pay, and if I go, I might be able to get more work out of it. Half my clients are authors, the rest is a mix of whatever anyone asks me to do.”
He switched legs as he asked in a genuine voice, “Like what?”
And it was moments like these that made the distance between us in the past so apparent. “Anything really. I’ve had some commissions for business cards, business logos, posters, and flyers. I’ve made a few designs for band T-shirts. A few tattoo designs.” I pointed at the shirt I was currently wearing. It was off-white with a neon colored sugar skull and ruby red roses surrounding the crown of the head. THE CLOUD COLLISION was spelled out just below the jaw. “I made this for my friend’s boyfriend’s band. I’ve also done some work for Zac and a couple of guys on your team.” I didn’t miss the way his head jerked up when I mentioned that. “Mostly redoing their logos and doing banners for them and things like that,” I told him, almost a little shyly, self-conscious about my work.
“Who?” he asked, perplexed and more than slightly surprised.
“Oh. Um, Richard Caine, Danny West, Cash Bajek, and that linebacker who got traded to Chicago during the offseason.”
“I never heard anything about it.”
I shrugged, trying to smile to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal.
He made this soft, little thoughtful sound of his, but didn’t add anything. The silence that wrapped around us wasn’t awkward at all. It just was what it was. After a few more stretches, Aiden touched me on the shoulder before disappearing into the house, apparently done.
By the time I made it inside and slipped my glasses back on, I found Zac standing at the stove in the kitchen. Aiden had taken a seat at the kitchen island with a glass of water. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I filled it up with the same.
“What are you making for dinner?” I asked Zac as I peeked over his shoulder.
He gave what smelled like onions and garlic a stir. “Spaghetti, darlin’。”
“I love spaghetti.” I batted my eyelashes when he glanced at me, earning me a grin. I took a seat on the stool one down from Aiden’s.
The tall Texan let out a soft laugh. “There’s more than enough. Aiden, you’re on your own. I put meat in the sauce.”
He just lifted one of those rounded shoulders dismissively.
I got up to get another glass of water when Zac asked from his spot still at the stove, breaking up the two pounds of ground beef he’d added to the vegetables. “Vanny, were you gonna want me to help you with your draft list again this year?”
I groaned. “I forgot. My brother just messaged me about it. I can’t let him win again this year, Zac. I can’t put up with his crap.”
He raised his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I got you. Don’t worry about it.”
“Thank—what?”
Aiden had his glass halfway to his mouth and was frowning. “You play fantasy football?” he asked, referring to the online role-playing game that millions of people participated in. Participants got to build imaginary teams during a mock draft, made up of players throughout the league. I’d been wrangled into playing against my brother and some of our mutual friends about three years ago and had joined in ever since. Back then, I had no idea what the hell a cornerback was, much less a bye week, but I’d learned a lot since then.
I nodded slowly at him, feeling like I’d done something wrong.
The big guy’s brow furrowed. “Who was on your team last year?”
I named the players I could remember, wondering where this was going and not having a good feeling about it.
“What was your defensive team?”
There it went. I slipped my hands under the counter and averted my eyes to the man at the stove, cursing him silently. “So you see…”
The noise Zac tried to muffle was the most obvious snicker in the world. Asshole.
“Was I not on your team?”
I gulped. “So you see—”
“Dallas wasn’t your team?” he accused me, sounding… well, I didn’t know if it was hurt or outraged, but it was definitely something.
“Ahh…” I slid a look at the traitor who was by that point trying to muffle his laugh. “Zac helped me with it.”
It was the thump that said Zac’s knees hit the floor.
“Look, it isn’t that I didn’t choose you specifically. I would choose you if I could, but Zac said Minnesota—”
“Minnesota.”
Jesus, he’d broken the state in two.
The big guy, honest to God, shook his head. His eyes went from me to Zac in… yep, that was outrage. Aiden held out his hand, wiggling those incredibly long fingers. “Let me see it.”
“See what?”