Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

LEMON

F ive wins, two losses. That’s where we are right now. With only three games after this one, we’re really fucking close to making it into the division championship. So fucking close, I can taste it.

My gaze touches the clock. There’s eight minutes left in the game and down by three. But my quarterback is having a day. He can’t seem to get his head on straight.

The ball snaps and he’s tucked inside the pocket tightly as he shuffles and backs up. But one of their players slips through and Cody has to make a run for it. Running isn’t his biggest strength. His arm and accuracy are.

The other player grabs his hand and Cody nearly loses the ball. He chooses to go down, taking the ball with him, protecting it with his body. The whistle calls the end of the play. Now we’re fourth and eleven.

Fuck .

I call a timeout and my group comes off the field. Cody’s shoulders are drooped, his head hanging. I had reservations about putting him in tonight because I’d been seeing his mental state waver. There’s something not football related bothering him.

My team gathers in a tight circle to listen to me, but Cody’s eyes aren’t on me. “Cody.” He looks up and I can see how guilty he feels right now. “Come here.”

Taking a breath, he steps into the huddle a little more. I reach for him and pull him down so he’s closer to my height and wrap my arms around him. He’s shocked, still, but then his arms wrap tightly around me. So tightly that I think he’s going to bruise a rib.

Having more than a hundred kids means watching them all can become a little difficult. I try, though. I try to know each of them as individuals. It makes observing their mental changes easier when I know what their normal is.

Cody’s breath is shaky as I hold him. I think he only pulls back because our timeout is almost over. He reaches into his helmet and wipes his eyes. “Thanks, Coach,” he whispers

As he backs up, several of his teammates clap his back. I have a feeling many know what’s going on.

“Tell me if you need to sit out,” I say.

He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. “No. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

“I understand you want to get your time in while you can, but it’s important to know your limits,” I tell him.

Cody gives me a smile. “I need to stay in.”

“I have an idea,” Peyton interjects. “A play that we’ve kind of been toying with.”

“You don’t think we should punt?” I ask, raising a brow.

Peyton shakes his head. “I know it’s a risk, Coach, but I think we can do this.”

I consider him for a minute before waving him on. I have confidence in my team. They’re good kids. They’re smart, and take just enough risk without being too willy nilly.

Peyton explains what he wants the team to do, but I can already tell that they have been working on this. Each of them knows their place and positions. They’re excited and ready.

We break and I watch as they file back on the field. I’m not sure exactly what they’re calling this. It’s a Hail Mary and yet… not.

Cody doesn’t call anything. The ball snaps and Cody turns the other way and sprints a couple yards, which has their team confused. Adam, who had slammed into one of their linebackers, suddenly spins them around like they’re dancing and lets go of the man he’s had in his hold before taking off down the field. Cody and Adam aren’t looking at each other as they run in opposite directions, though Cody has slowed considerably as he turns around and starts jogging in the correct direction this time.

“What are they doing?” Norman asks, warily.

I chuckle. “Winging it?” I suggest.

But they’re not. Adam looks over his shoulder and throws his hand up as he continues forward. Cody unleashes the ball. His ball control is enough to make any man drool. It’s a high arc, a perfect spiral, and headed directly for Adam.

The other team is bearing down on Adam now, but not before he gets himself under the ball and catches it while he’s righting his body to cover the remainder of the feet to the goal. The whole play is so perfect, that it looks like the ball is on a string.

He’s untouched when he crosses into the end zone.

Cheers erupt and I hear the commentators yelling over them, amazed and excited.

“Huh,” Norman mutters.

I shrug. “It seems like a lot of excessive energy, but apparently the confusion worked.”

“It’ll only work this once.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I say with a smile as I watch my boys celebrate. “It’s not something they can pull off every game, but I would wager a bet they could make it happen once more this season.”

Our kicker gets us the extra point and we’re now ahead by four. We win the game with that score and I’m nearly vibrating with pride at how they played.

“One game closer,” I tell them before letting them go. “Keep it up. I know you have it in you. You deserve the championship.”

My team runs back to the locker room. Everyone except Cody. When he lingers, I hold my arms open for him and he sinks into another hug. This time, he doesn’t let go for a very long time.

There’s a lot of judgment about staff touching students, but here’s the thing. We’re adults. Cody is twenty-one. He knows how to say no. And I’m sorry, but when one of my kids needs a hug, they’re getting a fucking hug. Fuck all the idiots out there who can’t tell the difference between preying on people and comforting them.

“My grandmother is in the hospital,” Cody whispers. “She raised me and it’s really getting to me that I can’t be there with her. There are days she’s doing really well, and then there are days when she’s not. I’m terrified that she’s going to die and I’m not going to be able to be with her. I talk to her every day, but… what if I don’t get to say goodbye? What if I don’t get to tell her how much I love her?”

I can hear the tremor in his voice as he tells me. My arms tighten a little more. Closing my eyes, I try not to cry with him.

“If you need to go to her, then you should go,” I tell him. “There’s nothing wrong with putting college—and football—on hold for a year. It’ll still be here when you get back. Scholarships, agents—they’ll all take this into consideration.”

Cody takes a deep breath. “I know,” he admits. “I’ve thought about it, but she keeps telling me to stay and… I just don’t know what the right decision is.”

“I’ll make a deal with you. You check in with me frequently about your mental state and I’ll let you keep playing.”

“Promise,” he says.

“You also need to know when it’s time to ask for help. I understand you want to do as your grandmother requests, but if you need to be with her for you , then go. Whether it’s for a day or a year or something in between. It’s not only about what she needs but what you need too.”

He sighs and pulls back. “Thank you.” His eyes are bloodshot.

I pat his cheek. “Life can wait. Not forever, but it can definitely wait a while. Good family is most important.”

Cody laughs quietly and rubs his eyes. He nods. “I appreciate it. And… and the hug. Thanks.”

Grinning, I slap his arm. “Sometimes a good hug speaks to a lot inside you.”

He smiles, nods again, and turns for the locker room. There are a few of his teammates hanging out, waiting for him, and I smile as I watch them surround Cody and give him affectionate bro hugs and shit. But this is RDU, so our version of a bro hug is definitely more affectionate and longer. There’s less stigma and healthier expectations here.

“Lehhhh… monnnnn!”

A wide smile splits my face as I turn to find my sister walking toward me. She’s smiling as she steps down from the bleachers. I meet her halfway between us and wrap her in a hug.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” I say.

“Thought you needed a surprise visit from your favorite sister,” Sugar answers.

Once, Mom used to give us a hard time about having favorite siblings. It makes Saffron feel left out. Uh… that’s the point, Mom. We did a better job of making sure Steak felt loved, though. Since Saffron demanded our parents’ attention all the fucking time, we made sure Steak wasn’t neglected.

I squeeze her tightly and then take a step back. “Seriously, you just came for the game? Where’s Fish?”

“Fish is home with her father and yes, I came for your game, and you best be taking me for dinner after this. I’m starving.”

I rarely do anything to help clean up after the games anyway, so I wave at Norman before linking my arm through my sister’s. We have a large work-study crew for games. That’s why I hire them—so I don’t have to do the work.

We stop by my office, and I change out of my game clothes. Grabbing my bag, I try to ignore all the places Hansley’s fucked me in my office. Thankfully, Sugar chooses a chair that we haven’t touched. I’m going to make sure we don’t.

“Where did you park?” I ask on our way out of the building.

Sugar shakes her head. “Patrick dropped me off. I told him you’d bring me home after.”

“Or I’ll just make you sleep over and we can stay up all night painting nails and…” I trail off with a frown. “What did we used to do when you spent the night? It seems so long ago.”

“It was long ago,” she says, sighing. “Patrick and I have been together for almost twelve years. Can you believe that?”

“Has it really been that long since we’ve had a sleepover?”

“Yeah. So we’ll have to plan one! Fish isn’t nursing anymore, so Patrick will have it under control.”

I grin. “Awesome. Let’s definitely do that.”

“What’re you in the mood to eat? I’m not kidding when I say I’m starving. Fish has been super clingy, so I don’t think I’ve had anything since breakfast.”

“I’m starving too. Watching my kids expend so many calories is exhausting.” Sugar laughs. “The Italian place on Wyseck Street has super big portions and it’s delish.”

“Great.”

We talk about Fish on the way to the restaurant and I realize just how long it’s been since I’ve seen my niece. Once we settle into our booth and have ordered, Sugar turns to me and I realize this isn’t just a friendly visit.

It’s an ambush.

“So…” Sugar starts, and I sag in defeat. “Time to talk about what’s been up with you.”

“If I tell you I don’t know what you’re talking about, can we go back to talking about Fish?”

“Not a chance.”

“How about if I ask after?—”

“Nope,” Sugar says, popping the P. “Tell me what has you acting all weird lately.”

There are no less than half a dozen more distractions I’m prepared to throw at her, but a heavy sigh leaves me and I know I’m not going to fight it.

“There’s this guy I hate,” I say, and she settles in with a smirk. I’m pretty sure she thinks ‘hate’ is a code word. “Since the moment we met, it’s been… really hot on campus.”

Sugar snorts. “Has it now?”

I huff. “Yes, well.” Giving in, I let the floodgates open and begin just rambling about everything. Everything that’s happened. Everything I’ve said to him. Everything we’ve done—though, sans details. Sugar is my sister, even if she’s my bestie too.

“He’s been weird lately,” I admit, and I’m not sure what I did. “For a while, he was… different with me. Like, not so wary anymore. Confident and giving me these sexy little smiles. But now I haven’t seen him in, like, two weeks. We barely cross paths. He’s hardly ever in his office. But we still talk all the time online. Sometimes he’ll go hours without answering, but then he’s back and it’s like those moments of silence didn’t happen. But, Sugar, I haven’t seen him. I think he’s avoiding me.”

“You’re very personable,” she comments.

I glare. “Not helpful at all. You demanded I talk; now, I expect some decent sympathy and advice.”

Sugar sighs. “Lem, you said he’s married. Right?”

My stomach flips. “Yes.”

She gives me a look that I’m going to interpret that she hates Hansley too. Not disapproving in my direction.

I swallow.

“Lemon, he’s married. ”

Huffing, I lean back and cross my arms. This is always how it goes. There’s someone else. I’m too loud. Or I’m too opinionated. I’m too feminine. I’m just too… much.

But more than not, they want someone else. They never want me.

For just a little while, it felt like Hansley had wanted me, though.

“I’m so tired of this,” I mutter.

“Obviously, I don’t know this man. I can’t say for sure what’s going on. But I imagine if he’s having an affair, it’s putting strain on his home life. If he’s appearing as stressed as you say he is and his season hasn’t even started yet… I would wager a guess that it’s personal stress.”

“How do you know his season hasn’t started yet?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

Sugar gives me a sly smile. “I follow the school hockey team’s socials.”

“Blasphemy!” I hiss. “We are a football family.”

“I watch the footy too!”

“Ugh! I disown you as my sister.”

Sugar laughs. She leans over and clasps my hand. “Seriously, though. Put yourself in his shoes for a minute and think about what’s going on in his life from his end. I know you’re hurt, but I bet that this is really, truly hard for him for so many reasons, Lem.”

I’ve never pretended not to be selfish and self-absorbed. Not to Saffron-level, but in my life outside my family, I’m the queen of self-importance. I learned early on that no one will put me on the pedestal I deserve, so if I want to be treated like a queen, I was going to have to make it happen all on my own.

I’m tired of being disappointed.

Now I feel foolish for not thinking about what’s going on with Hansley. I knew he was married when I kissed him that first time. I’d researched this man in an effort to know my enemy. So I knew about his wife.

That didn’t stop me. It didn’t stop him, either, but if I think about what it must feel like to be him right now, knowing that I’ve been cheating on my spouse? Yeah, that can’t feel good. And what is his home life like, facing her? Knowing that he’s had his dick down my throat and in my ass.

“That’s…”

“Yep,” Sugar says.

Now, I really don’t know how to feel, much less what to do about it.