There were hidden sides to everyone. Sometimes we were lucky enough to discover what they were. But mostly, we never saw what was under the surface. They stayed hidden behind ego and short tempers and shitty moods that soured our disposition for really good reasons. Wasn’t that a shame? If we had moments like this with all the people who did us wrong, or who we caught on a bad day, maybe we could extend more grace in a world that seemed to do nothing but sow anger.
This wasn’t the same man from the shelter—hard and arrogant and proud. The same man who got behind the wheel of his car and did something stupid. It wasn’t the same man from the bar, either, unashamed of taking what he wanted because he saw that I wanted it too.
Except it was, and I didn’t really know how to reconcile all the sides to him.
“Are you sure it wasn’t you?” I asked quietly. “Who ordered the stuff?”
Archer didn’t answer right away. His eyes traced over my face, then moved to my house. What did he see when he looked at it?
The yard was neat, the grass green and lush, even though it was in need of being mowed. The deep-blue paint color was cheery, something I’d splurged on a couple years earlier, as was the pale-aqua front door. The empty flower boxes and cleared beds simply saidI’m too busy to do this, but to him, it might look like something else entirely.
“Wouldn’t I tell you if I did?” he said after a while. The sound of his voice felt like someone had struck a bell affixed to my spine. His eyes moved back to mine. “Wouldn’t I want credit for that?”
“That’s not an answer,” I said, banishing any hint of a tremor from my voice, even though there was a dangerous quaking in my ribs.
Archer’s mouth softened in a hint of a smile. He twirled his keys around his pointer finger and started walking backward. “See you at eight thirty, boss.”
Chapter Twelve
Archer
At this time of the evening, the buildings were almost empty. Mostly maintenance staff, but there were still lights when I walked past the lobby of the executive-staff offices—the team owner, GM, head and assistant coaches.
The weight room had been empty, too, and I worked myself harder than I should have, considering I’d already done a workout that morning.
But my muscles felt better, holding none of the tension from earlier.
Every time I was around Remi, the energy around us was like an idling engine, and the longer it went on, my body braced for the moment we’d take off. If I didn’t work through that, I couldn’t get the kind of release I wanted, so abusing my body with weights felt like the next best step. It didn’t make sense to drive home, because I didn’t really have anything to do there, and if I showed up at the shelter unannounced, I had a feeling Remi would tell me to get my ass back in the car.
“Evans.”
At the sound of Coach King’s voice, I slowed, wishing I’d been just a little bit less of an asshole the last time we talked, but when I turnedand saw his wife, Lily, at his side, my stomach crashed to the bottom of my feet.
They were hand in hand as they came down the hall from the area of his office. Coach was a big dude, only an inch or so shorter than me, and still in the same shape as when he’d played. His wife, Lily, was striking—tall and slim, jet-black hair, and piercing eyes that were locked right on me with an unreadable expression.
I knew why too.
She wasn’t the bubbly, outgoing wife you’d expect a head coach to have, but she’d earned the admiration of every single guy in the locker room over the last year. They’d recently welcomed twins, but if she was tired from taking care of the two babies, plus Coach’s two preteen kids, it didn’t show.
It was easy enough to recognize someone who kept their guard up like me, and when they approached, I sucked in a quick breath, lifting my chin like it might protect me if this went south.
“What are you doing here so late?” Coach asked.
“Decided to get another workout in.” I kept my hands loose by my sides. I gave Lily a quick nod. “Ma’am.”
She arched a dark eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with my attempt at manners. “I’m only two years older than you, dude.”
“Right.” My jaw clenched. “Mrs. King.”
“You can call meLily,” she answered with a wry smile.
Coach glanced sideways at his wife, a soft smile playing around his lips. Lovesick.
Not that long ago, I might have scoffed, thought him weak for it. But now, all I felt was a curl of envy so deep that I knew it would never go away.
What was it like to be so at peace with yourself in a relationship with another person? Someone not related to you, someone who chose you?
“Not sure you need extra workouts,” Coach said. “You’re already bigger than you were the last time you played.”