28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Carissa

"Carissa, honey, are you sure you want to be here right now?" Mel rubs her hand along my back as we make our way out onto the field after all the Thunder players leave the locker room. "I promise I can handle everything on my own. I was doing it before you came along, and one more game won't hurt me."

She has no idea how tempted I am to say yes to her offer. When I read the article last night, I did my best to brush it off, and I mostly succeeded. Only half of what they said about me was true, and I'm smart enough to know that someone's opinion of me doesn't matter more than my opinion of myself. At least, I know that in theory.

After a morning of watching whatever romcoms I could find on the hotel TV channels, and an afternoon of fielding Darcy's calls and apology texts by telling her I'm totally fine, I thought I was doing okay .

But that was before all the staring.

Apparently many of the Portland Pathfinder fans are also Hot Scoop readers.

I can't hear anything they say from the stands, but I can see them pointing and looking at their phones. Even now, as Portland kicks off to start the second half, people are clearly talking about me, none of them with smiles or warmth.

Don't they have better things to worry about?

The first forty minutes of this game were brutal, and it didn't help that I spent the whole time trying to distract myself from the crowd by watching Cole, who has looked weighed down by the stress of trying to captain his team while the coach shouts useless insults from the sidelines. Cole has had a permanent crease in his forehead all night, and I worry about what will happen to his spirit if the Thunder lose their first game with him as captain.

Summed up, this game is awful all around.

During the first play of the second half, Noah gets knocked down and stays down, and memories of Moxie's injury grip my heart in a vise. But when Mel rushes over, neither of them look too concerned as they talk. After a few seconds, Mel looks over at me, nods, and jogs back to the sideline, leaving Noah sitting in the middle of the field.

"He wants you to help," she says before I can ask.

I frown. "But—"

"Better hurry. Don't want to waste too much time."

While I'd much prefer to stay where I am, I grip the straps of my medic backpack and hurry out onto the field, ignoring the whispers that fill the arena like wind. "Where does it hurt?" I ask, crouching in front of Noah.

He grins at me. "Hamstring."

I cock my head as I reach to feel how tight the muscle is. "I don't see how that's a smiling matter, Tinkerbell."

His smile only grows. "Tape me up? "

More confused than anything, I wrap tape around his thigh and below his knee. "Better?"

"I hope so," he replies and hops up, holding out his hand to help me stand. "Thanks, Rizzo!" He hurries off to rejoin the rest of the team, and I wander back to Mel with my brow drawn low.

"That was weird," I mutter.

"I think the boys like you," Mel replies.

Only a couple of minutes later, Wyatt apparently does something to his arm and rushes over to me, begging me to add some tape to his shoulder even though the ball is still in play. I do what he asks as quickly as I can, and he kisses my cheek before darting back into play just in time to catch the ball Cole throws to him. He skirts around a defender with a spin move and bolts, leaving the other players in the dust as he reaches the try line and sets the ball down dead center field.

The Thunder fans who came up to Portland erupt into cheers, and the guys all congratulate each other while Cole sets up his conversion kick and gets us two more points so we're only down by three.

After the next scrum, Grayson claims to have pulled a muscle in his calf, though he tells me so with a smile on his face, just like Noah. Not two minutes later, Freddie needs a bandage for a cut I can't see.

As the game continues, player after player finds himself injured and needing my services, all the while Cole keeps the ball moving forward while we have possession and away from the try zone when we don't. Every time I make my way onto the field to take care of what I'm starting to expect are fake injuries, Cole sends me a warm, reassuring smile, no matter how far he is from me.

I don't know what his play is, but he planned this. Whatever this is.

Freddie kicks the ball forward, and Wyatt speeds ahead to catch it and score another try. When Cole takes the ball to kick the conversion, he finds me on the sideline and points at me before putting his hand over his heart .

My own heart stumbles in my chest as the crowd quiets for the first time all night, like they can't believe Cole would acknowledge me after that Hot Scoop article.

The rest of the guys, lined up behind Cole, all look over at me in unison, their smiles wide and stances relaxed. After a tense first half, it's like they've suddenly stopped caring about what happens with the game. And I feel their support in every bit of me.

Tears prick my eyes as Cole sets up his kick and sends the ball flying straight down the middle of the posts. Even the Portland announcer remarks on the perfect trajectory, his tone clearly impressed. Cole walks back to the team, his eyes on me the whole time, and smiles when I blink away my welling tears to meet his gaze.

"You okay?" he asks, too far for me to hear, but I can read the question on his lips.

I nod, and I actually mean it. He and the guys have every reason to keep their distance from me after Hot Scoop's scathing assessment of my character, but as the game comes to a close a few minutes later, the Thunder ahead by four, the entire team swarms around me, pulling me in to join their celebration while the announcer says something about me being a good luck charm.

My tears break loose for the first time all day as the guys jump and whoop around me, clapping each other on the backs and throwing out hugs like candy at a parade. Many of them pat my shoulder or squeeze my hand, like I was actually part of helping them win the game. And when a familiar pair of arms wrap around me from behind in a supportive embrace, I feel like I might fall apart if not for his hold.

"What was that?" I whisper, gripping Cole's arms and praying he never lets go. I doubt he heard my question through the hullabaloo, but I don't care.

He tucks his chin over my shoulder and speaks into my ear, his voice a gentle purr. "That was us showing you that we know the real Carissa and don't care what someone else might say. We love you exactly as you are, past and all, and we wanted everyone else to know it too."

Love . Okay, so he said we love you and not I love you, but it was still him saying the word, and I'm desperate to believe his comment is a precursor to our impending conversation tonight. I don't expect him to be in love with me after only a few weeks of knowing me, but I want him to be willing to give us a chance. See where we might go.

"Thank you," I say, pressing my cheek against his.

"It was the guys," he replies, arms pulling me tighter against his chest. He may be sweaty, but he's warm and comfortable and safe, and I never want to leave his hold.

I shake my head. "That plan had you all over it."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because I know you better than you seem to think." I twist in his arms so I'm looking up into his face and can see the concern etched into his brow. I thought for sure he was worried about the game all night, but now I'm starting to think he was worried about me . "You risked losing the game to cheer me up."

His lips pull up in a crooked smile. "Trust me, we definitely would have lost if we hadn't cheered you up. These guys care about you more than I think you realize."

"You're basically our mascot now, Rizzo," someone says, though I'm not about to turn around to see who.

Mostly because I'm realizing that Cole is holding me close in the midst of his team and looking at me like I'm the most important thing in the world. And he doesn't seem to care about being seen. Reaching up, I press my palm to his cheek and smile when he leans into my touch. I hope this means good things for us.

"We'll talk later," he murmurs, as if reading my thoughts. "But maybe not tonight." Before my heart has a chance to sink, he leans forward and presses his lips to mine in a gentle kiss. "I am too tired to trust myself to act rationally right now, and you deserve my full and present attention. I'm not willing to make any mistakes when it comes to you." He kisses me again, then lets his arms drop as he steps back and tells the team to head to the locker room.

Cole is the last to go into the tunnel, and he pauses and looks back at me. "Don't worry, Paxton," he says, letting loose a full and real smile. "I'm not letting you go just yet."

Just yet . As Mel and I start gathering up our supplies and bringing it all to the bus that will take us back to the hotel, those two words keep running through my head. There's not a lot of confidence in those words, even if the rest of what he said was exactly what I wanted to hear.

It'll take a while for the guys to shower and change, so once we have everything loaded and Mel goes in search of a quiet corner of the stadium to make a phone call, I sit on the bus with my own phone in hand and make one of the most terrifying phone calls I've ever made. I almost hope he doesn't answer, but I think if anyone can help me figure out my best options here, he can.

The line connects, making my heart skip a beat. "Derek Riley's phone."

Hearing the unfamiliar female voice on the line, I frown down at my phone. "Um. Who is this?"

"Janie. Who is this ?"

"Carissa."

"Cole's Carissa?"

Before I can respond, there's a shuffling sound and then Derek's deep voice says, "Hey, Carissa. Sorry about that."

"Derek. Hi. Um, do you have a second?" It's after ten on a Saturday night, and I can't imagine what sort of thing might keep Derek Riley busy on a weekend. But he's also one of the most well-known people I've ever known. He could be filming a movie right now. Or at a fancy party. Or on a date. What if he's on a date?

"For you, I have all the seconds," Derek says. Goodness, how does anyone talk to this man without swooning? I can't see him, but his deep and velvety voice feels like slipping into a perfect temperature lavender bubble bath. He says something I can't make out, the same female voice responds, and there's a few seconds of silence and a sound like a closing door before Derek says, "Sorry about my assistant. I didn't realize she had my phone. How did the game go?"

Assistant. At least he's not on a date, though I still feel like I interrupted something so my reply comes out squeaky. "Good! We won, so that's good."

"Great! And how are you doing?"

Derek Riley is asking after my wellbeing. "Good," I chirp. And since that sounds dumb, I tell him about what the guys did with their made-up injuries. The longer I talk, the easier it gets, and I almost sound normal by the end. "They totally made my night."

He hums. He was quiet while I recounted the second half of the game, and it still takes him a while to say anything. "I think," he says slowly, "Cole had the right idea. From what I'm seeing online, a lot of people are questioning that last Hot Scoop article."

Relief rushes through me. "Really?"

"Don't freak out, but there are a whole bunch of pictures of you circulating around."

"Please tell me they're good pictures."

"It's you with the Thunder, and all of the guys are looking at you like you're their best friend."

That's good, right? That sounds good. "Okay, but what if it's the same situation as that airport photo? I swear I barely talked to any of those guys, but everyone thinks I was—"

"All the commentary is looking pretty good, Carissa. You can relax." Derek's words are warm and comforting, for which I am grateful. "I wouldn't be surprised if there's another Hot Scoop article tomorrow, but they'd be stupid to keep trying to tear you down when you have a whole team behind you. Ah."

I frown at that last surprised word, gripping my phone tighter. "What?"

"Janie just sent me another picture of you, and now I'm thinking you didn't call me to talk about you. Or Hot Scoop for that matter."

What sort of picture could tell him all that? He's right, but still… "What picture?"

"I just texted it to you."

I look down as the text comes in, a smile cracking through my nerves when I see a photo of me held in Cole's arms. Our heads are pressed together and my eyes are closed, my lips up in a smile. But it's Cole's expression that has me riveted. He looks entirely at peace wrapped around me, smiling gently and completely relaxed.

"That's a man I've never seen before," Derek says. "You've obviously done something to him."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Why did you call me?"

I take a deep breath, hoping this conversation was a good idea. "Because I think he's willing to try a relationship, but something is still holding him back from committing. And I'm terrified he's going to break my heart if I give it to him." Is this the kind of conversation I should be having with a guy's best friend? I don't know. But I'm pretty sure Cole doesn't trust anyone as much as he trusts Derek, except maybe his dad and Gramps, and I am so scared that this little life I'm building for myself is going to fall apart and leave me drifting again.

"He told you about his family curse, right?" Derek asks.

"Yeah. Do you think it's real?"

"Logically, no. But I believe Cole believes in it, and a conviction like his is enough to give something power. Curse or not, if he's worried he's going to lose you, then he will. "

"That's what I'm afraid of," I breathe, sinking lower in my seat. "Are we doomed?"

"Not according to that picture I sent you."

Sighing, I lift my feet up onto the seat in front of me, scrunching myself up. "So I know you're all famous and stuff and I have no right to ask you anything, but will you tell me what to do? You seem like the kind of guy who knows what to do in every situation."

He laughs, and once again I wonder how the whole world isn't in love with this man. Well, they probably are, now that I think about it. I've never seen a tabloid say anything bad about Derek Riley, like he has some kind of superpower of likability. "I'm glad you have a high opinion of me, Carissa, but I'm sure Cole will be the first one to tell you that I'm not that smart. Though…"

I roll my eyes at his thoughtful tone. "Do you know what to do in this situation?" I ask in a deadpan.

"Maybe. I think we need to get Cole to go to Sage's wedding."

Of all the things I thought he might say, it wasn't that. "Just to clarify, I'm asking you to convince Cole to date me . In a permanent sort of way."

He laughs again. "I'm aware. And the more I know you, Carissa, the more I think you're perfect for Cole."

"Oh. Well, thanks? But do you really think his ex's wedding is a good place to—"

"He needs to confront his demons."

I think about that for a second. "Are you telling me that Cole is still hung up on Sage?" I hate that idea.

"No, he's too smart to think his life is better with her in it. But Cole is…" He sighs. "He put so much of himself into that relationship, and I'm pretty sure when it ended, he came to the conclusion that he wasn't good enough. That he doesn't deserve that kind of happiness. "

Tears prick my eyes at the thought of someone as amazing as Cole feeling so contrary to reality. He deserves all the happiness in the world. "How is the wedding supposed to fix that?"

"I don't think Cole knows what he wants anymore, which is why he isn't willing to commit to the best thing to ever happen to him. That's you, by the way."

My grin is huge, and I'm glad no one is around right now to see me. "Thanks."

"Seeing what might have been should, in theory, help him see clearly and realize what he actually wants in life. Slapping him in the face with Sage marrying Javi might be the only thing to snap him out of all of this."

At this point, I'm willing to try anything, though I still don't know how it will do me any good. I may not know Derek very well, but I trust him. "That feels like a lot of pressure to put on this event he doesn't want to go to. How are we supposed to get Cole to that wedding?"

"Luckily for us, Freya already took care of that for us. But we'll probably want to put in some fail-safes, just in case. Plan for all contingencies."

"I can't decide if you sound like a spy because you played one in a movie or because you're actually a spy."

He groans. "Have you been talking to Liam?"

"Does he think you're a spy too?"

"I'm not a spy."

"That's exactly what a spy would say," I whisper.

"Please don't start—" He cuts himself off and growls. "Carissa, I'm an actor, not a spy. Let's stay on track here. We're helping Cole."

Right. Cole. The man I'm quickly falling in love with. Focus, Carissa . "What do we need to do for fail-safes?" I still don't know how Freya could manage to get Cole to go to that wedding, but at this point it's probably better if I just take my orders and do what I can.

"We're going to need the team to help. Think you can talk to them? "

I snort a laugh. "They just spent half a game pretending to be hurt so they could make me feel better. Yeah, I can talk to them."

"Great. And it's important that we keep Cole completely in the dark, or this will never work."

That might be harder, but I'm sure I can manage it. "What do I tell them?"

I can practically hear the smile in his voice. "Tell them they need to go back to hating Cole."