Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
“I’d really like that, but”—I looked over at the table where four sets of eyes were zeroed in on us—“I really shouldn’t bail on my group. They’re here to celebrate my birthday, after all.”
“It’s your birthday?” he echoed, his smile widening. “Which one?”
“Umm…” My cheeks heated as I admitted, “My twenty-first.”
“That’s a big one. We should celebrate.”
He was obviously older than me by a bit, so I’d been worried that he wouldn’t be interested anymore once he knew my age. His lack of reaction was a big relief. “As long as ‘we’ includes my roommate Ivy and her friends, we should definitely do that.”
“Absolutely. We have plenty of room.” The crowd seemed to part as he guided me over to the curved booth.
Darla batted her overly mascaraed lashes at Cole, and I was struck by the urge to scratch her eyes out. While I reconsidered inviting them to the VIP section with us, Ivy smiled up at us. “Done dancing already?”
“Yeah, we’re going to head upstairs, where it’s a little quieter.” Darla perked up and switched her smile to me. With her attention away from Cole, I felt more inclined to be gracious. “Cole says there’s space for all of us. Maybe we can flag down the server to get our bottle service transferred up there and then tip her out?”
“Yes, that’s such a great idea,” Darla cooed, pulling some cash from her purse. “I’ll take care of the tip since it’s your birthday and all.”
All three girls gaped at their friend, who normally split the bill down to the penny when they went out from what Ivy had told me. My roommate pressed her lips together as she nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”
It only took a few minutes to speak with our server and head upstairs, at which point Darla made a beeline for a group of players while Ivy, Jen, and Stephanie settled at a booth with our drinks. Cole guided me over to a table for two in the corner, sitting with his back to his team.
Having all of his attention focused on me was a heady feeling, and I took advantage of the opportunity. “Now that we can actually hear each other, tell me why you like coaching more than playing.”
“You don’t pull any punches, do you?” He shook his head with a chuckle, raking his fingers through his thick hair. “I’ve been asked this question plenty of times by the media, and I’ve always said it’s because I enjoy helping to develop the guys who play for the Nighthawks into the best players they can be, especially the rookies. There’s something really gratifying about sharpening the skills of young players who go on to accomplish great things on the field.”
Cole’s answer said a lot of great things about him, but I hadn’t missed his choice of wording at the start. “But that isn’t the whole story, is it?”
“Good catch, lass.” Reaching across the tabletop, he tangled his fingers with mine, sending a shock of awareness up my arm. “I started playing football when I was four. My dad loved the sport, and some of my best memories of him are when he coached my games. But I got a concussion my senior year of college that scared the fuck out of me. While I was recovering, my head coach could tell that I struggled with not being on the field. I felt fine, but my screening numbers weren’t back to my baseline from the start of the season. He asked me to help the offensive coach to keep me involved, and it just seemed as though coaching was where I was supposed to be.”
Squeezing his hand, I flashed him a soft smile. “That’s such an inspiring story. Why don’t you just say that when you’re asked? I’m sure people would eat it up.”
“Just feels too fucking personal to share.” He shrugged. “And I’m not that good at opening up to people, except for my inner circle, which isn’t all that big.”
I already appreciated Cole speaking so freely with me, but knowing this was something he kept close made his story mean even more. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“We might’ve only met tonight, but you’re different, lass.” He lifted my hand to press a kiss to my knuckles. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re most definitely in the circle.”
“Good, because I definitely want to be there.”
His blue eyes twinkled with mischievousness as he murmured, “Then you’re gonna have to share a story with me too, lass. That’s how being in the inner circle works.”
“Okay, that seems fair.” Tapping my finger against my chin, I racked my brain for something personal enough to make it an even exchange. Or at least close to one. “I work at a great salon in Soho and have a pretty full list of regular clients, but even more than getting in at one of the elite places in the Upper East Side, I would love to open my own salon someday.”