CHAPTER 4 LINCOLN

We all knew the call would come at some point, and it comes when I'm running drills with defense on a Thursday afternoon. I ignore it. I don't take calls when I'm on the field with players.

But when he calls again later in the evening, I know I can't put it off forever.

I'm still at the office, but it's mostly empty now. Even Jack has gone home to his wife and kids. Steve is around here somewhere, and Mike's car was still in the parking lot when I walked by a few minutes ago. A few guys are down in the training room, but my floor is quiet as I study film ahead of Sunday's match against the Titans.

"What can I do for you, Dad?" I answer.

He huffs out a laugh but doesn't return the rather genial greeting. "I know you know about your brother. I'm just reiterating how essential it is no one finds out."

My chest tightens a little as I still wonder whether Jolene overheard. She hasn't mentioned it since it happened a few days ago, but we also haven't seen each other much in the last two days. "Yeah, I'm well aware." My tone is dry, and he doesn't seem to care for that.

"Stay away from that reporter, Lincoln. You're playing with fire."

I blow out a breath. "I know what I'm doing."

"Playing podcast with that little girl? You're being ridiculous to find ways to spend time with her. You think I don't know what you're up to?"

I'm certain he has no clue what I'm up to. "I'm not sure why you want to live my life for me, but I've got this handled."

"If she finds out about what Asher did, you know it's both your asses on the line," he reminds me—as if I need the reminder.

"I'm well aware. How about a thanks for paying off his debts instead of the constant confirmations that I'm subpar?" I can't help when the words fall from my mouth, and he's as surprised by them as I am. "I need to go." I end the call, and I think for a moment he might call back, but he doesn't.

I know I need to keep the secret, and I'm tired of my father constantly putting pressure on me and trying to run my life for me. I may not be doing a bang-up job of it myself right now, but I don't need his interference.

I need to keep my focus on the season. We have one preseason game remaining, and then we have two weeks to get ready for kickoff weekend.

We're ready. We're making the tweaks we need to now so we can start the season with a bang. Our first game is here at home against the Seahawks—our number one rival—and that is where my focus needs to be. Not on all this other noise that's simply taking my attention from where it should be.

I shouldn't have agreed to the podcast. I was in a tight spot and wanted to work on my image, so I thought Ellie's plan had some merit. I thought it was a way to improve my status in the community, and maybe it is. But despite the fact that it means more time with Jolene, it's also serving to become a distraction—one more thing on my already full plate.

But I committed to it, and I will see it through. The good news is that the studio is close by, so if I have a free moment, I can pop in to record with Jolene if she's around. I can make it a working lunch or dinner if I need to as well. And likely, that's what it's going to turn into. It's been tough finding the time for it in between everything else.

But it does mean I get a weekly date with Jolene, and I can't complain about that.

And speaking of distractions…

I pause everything where I'm at to head out for dinner. I'm meeting Sam tonight at the Gridiron for a late dinner, and the only goal is to appear happy.

I don't want to go. I have things I need to finish, things I'm in the middle of, and the last thing I want to do is go out to another dinner with my girlfriend's best friend.

This whole act is completely ridiculous, but I'm in far too deep now.

The paparazzi snaps photos of us while we laugh and eat, and we're seen arm-in-arm exiting the restaurant. I walk her to her car, and she heads home while I walk across the street back to the office without a goodbye kiss because I refuse to kiss another woman even though Jolene found it fine to allow Graham's lips on hers.

It was an innocent enough dinner, and I hope it was good enough to fool the people we're trying to fool. But I can't worry too much about it. I needed to eat dinner anyway, and the break served me well since my eyes were fatigued after staring at film for the last few hours.

I'm refreshed now, and I put in another couple hours with a glass of whiskey and a notepad beside me. Time ticks on, and I find myself growing tired. Eventually I lay on the couch for a few minutes just to rest my eyes, but I guess I fall into a deep sleep because when I wake, it's with a jolt as someone shakes my arm and blinding light streams in through my office windows.

"Coach, practice is starting in an hour. Can I get you anything?" It's Megan's voice.

I'm groggy as I sit up and run a palm down my cheek and along my jaw. I stretch my neck, and it's stiff as hell after sleeping on the couch. "Fuck," I mutter, and she giggles as I narrow my eyes at her. "An XL coffee. Stat. And a number two from the cafeteria breakfast menu."

"Right away." She nods and hurries off, and I lean back and stare out the window as my eyes adjust to the brightness here in my office.

Megan returns twenty minutes later with a bag of food and my coffee, and I'm in new clothes thanks to having essentially unlimited options available to me at all times here at the practice facility. I showered down in the locker room and used my emergency toothbrush, and I'm good as new.

It was the first time I slept in my office, and it likely won't be the last, though I'll admit my bed is much more comfortable, in particular when Jolene is sharing it.

Speaking of Jolene, I can't help but wonder what she's up to this morning as I take the first bite of my bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit. I send her a text to let her know I'm thinking about her.

Me: Good morning. Hope you have a great day.

No reply comes, but my phone starts to ring a few beats later, and it's her.

"Hey," I answer softly.

"Have you seen the headlines?" she demands, and I sense something in her tone that both tears at my heart and terrifies me.

I drop my sandwich on my desk as my blood runs cold. "What headlines?"

"Rivera printed the photos of us, Lincoln."