“She is.” This is one of the things I’ve always loved about Maddox. He cares about me beyond my performance on the field.
As we eat, we chat about my family, then he says, “And what are you thinking you want to do when your contract is up at the end of the season? Renew?”
My stomach dips with new nerves. “If they’ll have me.”
He furrows his brow, clearly surprised I said that. “Pretty sure they’ll have you. I can’t make any promises, but you’re one of the top quarterbacks in the league.” He tilts his head, studies me. “What’s going on, Drew?”
I’m so used to being the confident guy with him, showing him I belong in the sport, that I’m worthy of the contracts he inks. Usually that’s all I need to be. But my emotions are seeping through the cracks today. I’m still unsure if I made the right choice on Monday morning.
But I don’t need to burden Maddox with that.
“Nothing really,” I say, but I can hear the lie in my voice.
Maddox must too, since he sets down his fork with purpose. “What’s really going on, and how can I help you?”
I don’t want to be the guy who complains about his lady woes. But I can’t keep it from him, especially since he seems to be figuring it out already.
“Just woman trouble,” I say, trying to make light of it.
He looks concerned. “Did something go wrong with Brooke?”
He knows I was seeing her, since our pics were all over socials.
I heave a sigh, then let a little more of the truth out. “Yeah. And it’s probably all my fault.” Fuck, that’s a relief to say.
But I just miss her ridiculously.
“What are you going to do about it?”
That is the question, but I’ve got zero answers. “I don’t know, Maddox. I thought maybe I was distracted because of her. And I was supposed to do this press tour with the team today. She got me out of it. But it’s not in my nature to back out.”
“It’s not. That’s not your style. You work hard and you represent,” he says. “But is that what’s eating at you?”
I scratch my jaw, then shake my head. “Yes, but mostly I just miss her.”
He gives a soft smile. “And have you talked to Carter about that?”
I give him a quizzical look. “Why do you ask?”
“He’s always the one you talk to about your romantic woes. He usually knows what you should do.”
Maybe I’ve avoided talking to him about Brooke these last few days. For that very reason.
But I can change that right away.
25
THURSDAY AFTERNOON QUARTERBACK
Brooke
Drew and I never went parasailing, but even so, I shift my gaze away from the parasailer floating above the ocean. It reminds me of the day we met.
I don’t need any reminders of the conversations we had, the way we flirted, or our instant connection.
I’m at an oceanfront café Thursday afternoon with Cara. I worked from home this morning, and I’ll be heading to the stadium for the tour shortly. But first, lunch. We’re celebrating that Cara just aced one of her key exams.
“I’ll say it again—I’m seriously proud of you.” I toast with the remains of my iced tea one last time as we wrap up.