Page 77 of Coach Sully
“I’m sorry,” she whispers on the edge of tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—I shouldn’t have said—”
“No.” I wrap my arms around her body and pull her into me. “You did nothing wrong, Kendra. I’ll talk to him. Just give me a couple minutes, okay?”
She nods into my shirt, and I release her.
“It’s going to be okay,” I reassure.
On the way back to my phone, I hear him sighing a curse. I pick the phone up in time to see Whit slam the door to his office. “She’s fucking pregnant?!”
It’s a rhetorical question. I let him get his anger out as I take a seat on the sofa again. Might as well get comfortable, I will be here for a while. This ass-chewing will not be brief.
“How did—When is she due?”
“March. She got pregnant before the show, this all happened prior to the paperwork being signed. We didn’t know. She didn’t know she was pregnant when the contract was made.”
His eyes look less menacing after I explain. He nods, rubbing his fingers over his mouth, his gaze fixed on the floor. I won’t be surprised if there’s a scorched hole forming in the commercial berber carpet as we speak. It’s clear the wheels in his head areturning, assembling the timeline I’ve laid out. He’s searching for a loophole. There isn’t one, trust me. I’ve looked at this situation from every angle possible. Our situation is still hairy as fuck, but it sounds a lot less scandalous when you lay out all the facts. It was an accident, but one I have zero regrets about.
“We gotta put something together. Talk to PR. Get ahead of it. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me when you found out?”
I roll my eyes. “Would you?”
“Yes!” he shouts.
Bullshit. Before I can stop myself, I bark back, “Then why don’t you tell me what the fuck is going on between you and Delta Makkonen?” That shuts him up. I level him with a stare. “Are you involved with one of my players?”
He cuts his eyes to me, then looks away. The silence hangs heavy between us. The stillness is loud and clear.
“Then back the fuck off,” I say slowly.
He takes a deep breath and relaxes his shoulders.
I do the same and clear my throat. “We just have to wait out the contract. I’m still going on dates with every woman they throw at me. Hell, I’ve got another one already lined up for when I return. I’m going to flip through as many as I need to until production wraps up. Kendra is keeping things quiet on her end.”
“Who else knows?”
“You, Barrett Conway, and his wife, Raleigh.”
“Oh, is that all?” His voice is laced with sarcasm.
“The Conways won’t say shit,” I mutter. After summoning my courage, I say what I’m thinking. “If you think I’m not a good enough coach without the reality show, then you never should have asked me to join this organization.”
He stops pacing and scowls at me. “Our team has their coach. You are their coach! Why the fuck do you think I’m sweatingbullets right now? I don’t give a shit about the reality show, I don’t want to lose you or this sponsorship.”
I appreciate that. Leaning forward on the edge of the sofa, I glance at the floor, and nod. I am their coach. I feel it in my bones, the Rogues are my team.
“The organization can’t find out about this,” Whit says. He rubs the back of his neck as our eyes meet. “Look, that production company needs you more than you need it. If the network sues, let them. I’ll bring you back myself if I have to. We’ll figure it out.”
KENDRA
The Conways are at Sue’s place to ring in the new year. We opted to celebrate with the two of us in our little bungalow. I can’t believe Whit found out about us and the baby, but Sully seems convinced he won’t say anything because, apparently, he’s got dirt on him too. It’s a lot to take in, and it hasn’t helped the anxiety regarding our secret. For now, I will enjoy our night. I’m surprised I’m still awake this late. All the fresh air we’ve had has had me feeling like I’m in the first trimester again. I’m exhausted.
“Eleven fifty-nine,” Sully announces, handing me a champagne flute.
Laughing, I take it from him. “Can’t believe you got sparkling cider. Such a cornball.”
He plops down next to me on the sofa. “First New Year. We gotta celebrate,” he says firmly, as if it’s a mandate. For being a giant, he’s adorable.
“Do you have any new year’s resolutions?”