9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Cole

"Wanna tell me why you made our new specialist cry today?" Moxie graciously waits until the locker room clears out before he asks that one.

With the way the guys were even more obsessed with Carissa today than they were yesterday, my foot-in-mouth syndrome probably would have resulted in my execution before practice ended, so I've spent the bulk of practice in the weight room. I took my time in the shower, waiting until the locker room sounds died down, but I didn't change fast enough to avoid the captain.

I knew it was only a matter of time before Moxie confronted me.

If I told him the truth I learned today, that Carissa is Tamlin Park's sister, he would probably validate my anger. Then again, he was all chummy with Tamlin when she was here. But if he knew Tamlin wasn't Tamlin and that she's actually married to an extremely famous baseball player…

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea that the incredibly likable blonde woman with Carissa at Derek's house the other day is the same leggy brunette who for most of her career has ruined lives. If Darcy is so good at acting, what might her sister be like? Maybe Carissa isn't the peppy and innocent girl she's shown me so far.

"What was your take on Tamlin Park?" I ask instead of answering Moxie's question.

As he settles on the bench next to me, Moxie gives me a brow-furrowed look that clearly says he's not okay with my change in subject. "Park? She doesn't seem as predatory as I've heard, but it's not like I want to be BFFs."

I choke out a laugh as I pull on a fresh t-shirt. "You did not just say BFF."

"Stop changing the subject. What happened with Carissa?"

She's related to Tamlin . I could say that so easily. It's not like I signed an NDA, and I'm sure the world would be better off knowing the ruthless reporter is actually an alter ego. But something stops me. Darcy was…nice. Bonnie loves her, and I generally trust Bonnie's opinion. And Carissa is so convinced that Tamlin—Darcy—isn't a threat.

Maybe I should give Darcy the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe Carissa deserves that too.

She certainly doesn't deserve some of the things I said to her this afternoon. I haven't been able to stop thinking about what came out of my mouth in my anger and fear, especially because Moxie showed up before I could apologize.

"I was a jerk," I say after a long moment of silence.

Moxie snickers. "You? No!"

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm, Auxier. I know I've been…gruff lately."

That just gets another laugh out of him. "We're downplaying everything? Okay. Carissa seemed upset this morning."

He's in rare form today, and I wonder if it's because of my tension with Carissa or because practice didn't go well today. This is the third day in a row that Coach failed to show up, and at this point it's a gamble if he'll be at Saturday's game. What is he being paid for? Moxie is doing most of the coaching anyway, so we might as well use that money on the guy who deserves it.

Sighing, I stuff my sweat-soaked clothes into my bag and drop onto the bench. "I offered her a ride, but I'm not in a great mood as it is, and she…" Why can't I just call her out on her tie to Tamlin? "She triggered something. It wasn't her fault."

"The guys noticed she's upset, and they've spent more time making her laugh than they have fixing our lineout issue."

I grunt. "She's going to bring nothing but trouble."

Moxie doesn't say anything for a long time, making me wonder if he agrees with me or if he's trying to find a way to counter my comment. But what he ends up saying is nothing like what I expect. "She's the only reason Mel didn't quit this afternoon."

"Mel was going to quit?" Alarm pulses through me at the thought of our athletic trainer leaving us. Sure, we could hire a new one, but we're already treading water as it is, and Mel has been the best thing to ever happen to this team. She doesn't take any crap from the guys, and she has a talent for convincing stubborn men to take the small steps to avoid injuries. Without her, we probably would have lost half a dozen guys to injury before the season was halfway over.

Shrugging, Moxie gives me a grim smile that isn't at all comforting. "With all the stuff with her kid and finding childcare, she's barely managing everything. If I knew how to help her, I would."

I don't know a ton about Mel outside of her work with the team, but I do know she's had it rough since her divorce. I should probably make an effort to talk to her more, though it's not like I would be good company. "But she didn't quit?" I ask.

"Nope. Carissa talked her out of it. Honestly, I'm getting the sense that Carissa could talk anyone into doing or not doing something. She's weirdly persuasive. "

I'm fully aware of that, which is part of the problem. She could have been lying through her teeth about her sister's intentions.

Have I always been this paranoid? Probably, though I'm going to blame some of it on being friends with Derek as long as I have. He has paranoid on lock down, no matter how much he pretends otherwise. It's not his fault, given the nature of his career, but I do think it makes it hard for him to grow close to people.

And maybe my paranoia is also… I swallow, not sure I want to let my thoughts go down this path. Sage often tiptoed around what she really thought and felt. I convinced myself that it was because she worried about how her feelings would affect others, but looking back, it's harder to justify the way she always did whatever it took to get what she wanted.

Not everyone is like Sage, but there's a part of me that will always wonder if a person is showing me how they really feel.

Moxie is watching me, waiting for a response, but I don't know what to say. I would have loved to avoid this conversation entirely. So when I say nothing, he rolls his eyes and gets to his feet so he's looking down on me. "I'm going to be your captain for a second, okay?"

"As opposed to…?"

He purses his lips. "Your friend, Cole."

Oh. "I didn't realize we were friends," I admit, though it hurts me to say it out loud. What does that say about me that I can't tell when someone considers me as more than a teammate or acquaintance?

"Annoyingly, that illustrates the point I'm about to make. You need to be better."

I already know what he means, but I ask anyway. "Better about what? I'm already the best scrum-half the Thunder has had."

"I'm only going to allow that response because you're right." He folds his arms, narrowing his eyes at me and reminding me why he's the team captain. He's an easygoing guy, but when he needs to, he can drive a point home. "I mean you need to be better with your relationships. "

"I—"

"I'm not talking about your celebrity gang. The whole world knows you and Derek Riley are tight and have been for years. I'm talking about outside of that. I'm talking about the people who are supposed to rely on you but can't because they don't know you."

Why do I get the sense that I'm about to get homework from yet another person in my life? I'm lucky I didn't get some sort of direction from my dad and Gramps last night, though I'm sure one or both of them is gearing up for it.

Moxie takes a deep breath. Apparently this is going to be hard for me to hear, based on the worried look in his eyes. "Cole, if you're not careful, this breakup is going to ruin your life. You're already on thin ice."

I grit my teeth as the words ‘thin ice' immediately spark life back into the line I thought I had gotten over. This is not a hockey romance . If it was… If it was, I wouldn't be the hero. I'd be the guy who scares the girl into the arms of the guy who deserves her.

"I don't…" A locker room isn't a great place for a heart to heart, but after the way I turned on Carissa this morning, I'm pretty sure I've hit my lowest of low. At this point, what do I have to lose? Moxie and Derek are both right about this breakup interfering with my life, and it's only gotten worse since Sage showed up here last week to give me the wedding invite.

I'm falling apart. Becoming someone I don't like.

I clear my throat. "I don't know how to get over this, Mox. It feels like she ripped my heart out of my chest and tore it to pieces, and I'm not alive anymore. I don't know how to keep going."

Whether he expected me to say something so raw, Moxie barely reacts outside of sitting next to me again, his eyes on his feet. Apparently we're friends, but I doubt he was prepared to be bombarded with honesty. I wasn't prepared to give it. I haven't even told Derek any of this stuff, so the fact that Moxie got it out of me so easily is telling.

What it tells remains to be seen.

"Okay," he says after a long spell of silence that leaves the locker room feeling spacious and cold. Two things it has never been. "I'm not going to pretend I'm an expert on matters of the heart, because I'm not."

But he's a decent guy, and I'll take any advice he might give me.

"You dated Sage for a while, yeah?"

I nod. "Almost four years."

"And you were thinking of marriage and all that, right?"

Another nod. I still have the ring. It's sitting in the back of my underwear drawer even though that's probably the least safe place I could put something so valuable. If anyone were to break into my house, that would be the first place they look. "I was waiting for a good time to propose."

"Waiting for how long?"

I turn to look at him, wondering why he wants to know something like that. "I don't know. I got the ring like a year before we broke up." Before she dumped me.

Moxie nods as if he'd expected an answer like that. "So you knew you wanted to be with her forever, but you spent a year trying to work up the courage to tell her as much. Why do you think that is?"

"Because I'm cursed." Oh. No. That's not what I wanted to say. That's not the kind of thing you say to someone and expect them to take you seriously, which is a problem because I am dead serious.

Clearing his throat, he matches my gaze with an unreadable expression and a whole lot of thoughts behind his eyes. "Cursed," he repeats.

I push to my feet and head for the door before this conversation gets any further away from me. "Forget I said anything."

But when I reach the hallway, I collide with a petite blonde who squeaks in alarm as my momentum sends her flying backward. I catch Carissa's arm—thankfully—and we stand motionless for a few seconds until I realize she's hanging at a forty-five-degree angle. Tugging her upright, I make sure she's steady before I take a step back.

"Sorry," I say, though it's more of a grunt.

Her eyebrows dip low. "What's cursed?"

I swear under my breath and fold my arms, but at least it seems like she only heard the tail end of our conversation. "Nothing. Uh." I should apologize about this morning. I know I should. But seeing her freckled nose and warm brown eyes is only reminding me that I have done nothing but distrust her since the moment she got here, and she'd be better off without me anywhere near her.

"Apparently Cole is cursed," Moxie says, coming up behind me. "Sorry, Carissa. I thought this conversation would be…" He glances at me. "…shorter. You ready?"

I'm assuming Moxie is Carissa's ride home today, which is way better than any of the other guys but still not something I like. Of anyone on the team, Malcolm Auxier is the one who would, without question, treat a woman right. Carissa might actually fall for him.

Though Carissa nods, her eyes are on me. "Why are you cursed?"

"I'm wondering that myself," Moxie adds.

There is no way on this good earth that I will explain with Carissa standing there and looking at me with so much wariness. It's one thing to confide in Moxie, a man I trust almost as much as I trust Derek. But expecting me to open up to a woman who has every reason—and resource—to make my life a living hell? That's a hard no.

I shake my head. "I'm not talking about this."

Moxie lets out a heavy sigh that speaks of nothing but disappointment, which settles over me, almost suffocating. He's my only friend on this team, and if he's ready to give up on me, it must mean I'm truly hopeless. "Need a ride, Evanson?"

I don't want to say yes, but after the way the driver this morning was eagerly listening in on my conversation, I'm getting the sense that more people are going to be paying attention to me than I'd like for the next few weeks at least. "It's out of your way."

He rolls his eyes. "So is Carissa. She lives just down the street from you."

Carissa meets my gaze, but only for a moment before she's back to looking at her scuffed sneakers. If I had to guess, she's worried I'm going to share her sister's secret and is waiting for me to drop that bomb in front of the most important person on the team. I don't know if it's her fear or my guilt that ultimately keeps my mouth shut on that subject.

"I'd love a ride," I tell Moxie. "I won't make a habit of it."

Taking hold of Carissa's bag and slinging it over his shoulder, Moxie leads the way to his car.

He doesn't say anything to me until we're halfway to my neighborhood and he says my name, pulling my attention away from my phone, which has only marginally distracted me from my thoughts. "You could, you know," he says.

I furrow my brow. "I could what?" He and Carissa have been silent up front, leaving me to read through comments on the Hot Scoop article that posted this morning to make sure no one has figured out who Carissa is. There is plenty of speculation, but no mention of her name.

Moxie chuckles. "Make a habit of getting a ride. Take advantage of our unusually charitable teammates who will be in proximity to your house every day." He winks at Carissa.

She blushes, and the embarrassment is endearing. Not that she needs to endear anyone to her, especially not me. It seems Moxie is well on his way to earning her affection as it is, and I'd rather not get in the middle of that if I can help it. "I really don't need everyone to go out of their way for me," she says, glancing between us. "I plan to take the bus as much as I can."

I match Moxie's wrinkled nose at the thought of someone like her taking a bus everywhere. "Those buses are disgusting. "

"And you shouldn't wait at bus stops by yourself," he says.

"The area is decent," I add, "but not necessarily safe."

"Plus, the—"

"Easy, boys," Carissa says, holding up a hand and shutting us up. Her grin is wide and warm, and just like the first day I met her, that smile brightens the whole car around her. "I grew up in Philly. I may be small, but I'm a tough girl. I can handle myself."

Moxie meets my gaze in the rear view mirror, his concern obvious. She could be tough as nails, but that still wouldn't lessen either of our worries. Even if she can take care of herself, she shouldn't have to.

I groan as years of lectures from my dad and Gramps flash through my head. If they caught wind of me letting Carissa fend for herself, I'd never hear the end of it. I can fix this, but I don't know if she'll let me. I'll have to try.

"I have an idea. Drop us off at my place?" I say to Moxie, hoping he understands my implied meaning. He may not know my plan, but I want him to know my intentions are good.

Though he narrows his eyes for a moment, probably questioning my reasoning, he nods after a second and takes the turn into my neighborhood. When he pulls up in front of my house, Carissa doesn't move, which I expected, though I know she heard me say ‘us' because she flinched.

Moxie must like me if he's willing to stick around once I'm out of the car. He could easily drive off and take Carissa to her house, but he doesn't.

I knock on the passenger window and press my lips together when Carissa only rolls it down a few inches. She has every reason to be short with me, and I don't know if she'll go for my idea, but I want to try to kill two birds with one stone. Make up for the gruffness I showed her this morning and give her a way to avoid the bus .

"You don't have to trust me," I tell her through the space in the open window. "But do you trust Moxie?"

She looks at him. I can't see her expression, but his smile is warm and friendly. Too friendly, maybe. When she turns back to me, there's enough curiosity in her eyes to know I've taken a step in the right direction.

"I want to help you," I tell her. "But to do that, I need you to get out of the car. I promise I'll get you home safely."

After one more glance at Moxie, who says something too soft for me to hear, Carissa pushes the door open so quickly that I have to jump out of the way. "I don't like this," she says as she tucks her purse over her shoulder. "Mostly because I can't decide if I should like you ."

That gets a smile out of me, however brief. "It's probably better if you don't like me," I mumble. I salute Moxie, who gives me a warning look before driving off. Honestly, I half expected him to hang around, just in case, and his trust in me soothes a small part of my aching soul. If such an excellent judge of character can see good in me, maybe I'm not all bad.

"Come inside for a sec," I say, gesturing toward my front door.

Carissa scratches her chin as her eyes dart between me and the house. "Nothing weird or bad is going to happen to me, right?"

I roll my eyes. "I wouldn't tell you if it were. But no."

Apparently that's enough to get her to trust me, and she leads the way up the stepping stone pathway to the porch.

I hope I'm doing the right thing.