Exploring the Rules: An Enemies-to-Lovers Sports Romance Standalone Page 30

  Me: It’s going to be great. You’re going to be working at an observatory.

  Chloe: MIGHT be working at an observatory. I haven’t been hired.

  Me: Yet.

  It’s difficult for me not to try and influence the situation. A donation would certainly help to ensure her the position, yet, I have absolutely no doubt she’d be livid and doubt herself and her abilities if she ever found out. Still, it feels like being sidelined during an important game.

  Chloe: How are you? Are you ready for your first day of work?

  I send her a picture of my new office.

  Chloe: Look at you! All official! Tell me there’s a nameplate on the door.

  Me: No nameplate. I might need you to get me one.

  Chloe: With a picture of Uranus beside it.

  Me: Are you calling me a god, again? ;)

  Chloe: Clearly.

  I laugh, hearing the sarcasm behind her words.

  Me: How’s the hotel?

  Chloe: It’s so nice. Nessie is already dreading not having one of the hotel beds. We all appreciate you allowing us to stay here. It’s been nice to not have to rush through the unpacking process.

  Me: I’m glad. You can stay as long as you’d like.

  Chloe: Thank you. We move into our apartment tomorrow, though.

  Me: September 7th you’re off for Labor Day. What would you say to meeting me in San Francisco on the 3rd? You could fly home late Monday, be back for classes on Tuesday.

  Chloe: Yes!!!! I’ll start looking for flights.

  Me: I’ll take care of the arrangements. I just wanted to check with you before I made plans.

  Chloe: I have a four-day weekend for Thanksgiving. I can meet you closer to the East Coast. Or come to England so you don’t have to fly.

  I stare at her text for a second, rereading her words that are offering to give up one of her traditions for me. I know the significance without it being spelled out.

  My office door opens and Phil returns, holding two mugs with a bottle squeezed to his side with an elbow. “I thought we should celebrate with a bit of whiskey.” He walks to my new desk and sets the cups down before liberally splashing a heavy hand of alcohol into each glass. “Oh, my apologies,” he says, noticing my phone is out with an unwritten reply. My response to Chloe should likely be thought out or at least something more than a thumbs up, and yet, my thoughts are firing off on all cylinders, making it seem nearly impossible to find the right words.

  “It’s all right,” I tell him. “We can get started in just a moment.”

  Me: I miss you. We’ll figure something out for Thanksgiving. I have a meeting to attend, but I’ll chat with you later, after you wake up.

  Chloe: I miss you, too. Good luck on your first day.

  I pocket my phone and move around to the front of my desk. It doesn’t feel that far outside of my norm to be in an office setting, focusing on spreadsheets and projections, in fact, it helps to be at work where I can focus all my thoughts and efforts on things that don’t have me considering how long a flight would take to get me to Seattle.

  31

  Chloe

  It’s been a week since we returned from California. Four days since Nessie and I moved into our apartment downtown. It’s barely bigger than the suite I was staying in, and the amenities pale in comparison, but the normalcy is comforting. We have two bedrooms and one tiny bathroom, a kitchen that won’t allow more than one drawer or appliance to be open at the same time, and a living room that is so small our couch has to sit at an angle for our front door to open. I don’t mind the tiny space. It feels kind of cozy, and having our things out of storage and in the same place every day has been nice.

  The doorbell rings, and Nessie glances at me as she straightens her hair, checking to make sure I’m ready. I pull in a deep breath and nod.

  She opens the door, and Cooper stands there, his attention bouncing between Nessie and me, discomfort and hesitation apparent as his shoulders square, and he hangs back from the door.

  Nessie reaches a hand out, and he takes it, stepping into the apartment. She kisses his cheek and grabs her purse. “You guys need to talk.”

  His eyes round as he looks from her to me and then back to Nessie. “What?”

  “You guys are best friends. You need to get past this. I’m going to take a walk and pick up some pizza. I’ll be back.” She kisses him again.

  Cooper remains by the door, his gaze over my shoulder, over my head, at my feet.

  “Why can’t you look at me?” I ask him, calling him on the fact.

  His eyes finally meet mine, but quickly shift away. “I am.”

  “Why aren’t you talking to me?” I ask him.

  His gaze darts back to mine. “I am.”

  “Yeah, like we’re strangers. You talk to me all formally, and you never call or return my texts. I’ve tried talking to you about Ricky and Tyler, and you just tell me everything’s fine.”

  His jaw ticks, and his attention moves to the short hall that leads to the bathroom. “Why didn’t you tell me about Ricky, Chloe? Why didn’t you let me help you?”

  My eyes flood with tears I’ve managed to keep away for the past two days, and a pronounced frown forms on my wobbly mouth. “Because I was embarrassed,” I tell him. “I was really embarrassed.”

  Cooper says my name so quietly it sounds like a breath as he closes the short distance between us and hugs me.

  “I knew how much you hated Ricky and how dumb you thought it was that I was dating him, and I felt so embarrassed by what happened, and a part of me felt like you deserved to tell me that I should have expected it. He was such an asshole in high school. I don’t know how I overlooked all of it and how stupid it was that I felt special because he finally noticed me.”

  Cooper shakes his head. “I’m your best friend. You’ve seen me at my absolute worst, during stretches where I was terrified I’d turn out like my dad and when everyone made fun of me and teased me. You saw the ugliest years of my life. And it hurt that you didn’t allow me in when you were hurt, when you needed me. I want to help you, just like you’ve always helped me, so maybe it was my pride, but I just felt like you not only kept a secret from me, but it was a secret about a situation I was supposed to be there for—a situation I wanted to be there for.”

  And for the first time since July, when it all happened, I cry and tell Cooper all the details of that afternoon, including all my ugly fears and admitting to him for the first time how it impacted me—how there’s an edge of doubt I have about everyone I encounter. How that man in Vegas had triggered me, and how I’d been able to recall the look in Ricky’s eyes, the ugly words he used as he accused me of being a tease and used them to justify what he was trying to do.

  Cooper listens to each of my confessions and replaces each of them with a validation and assurance. And I know that he’s right because, through all of the ugly, I’ve learned so much about myself.

  “Knock knock,” Nessie says, carrying two pizzas. She winces as she looks across the battlefield of our faces, mine likely red and tear-streaked and Cooper’s exhausted. “How are we doing?” she asks.

  Cooper nods. “We’re good.”

  Nessie’s green eyes return to me for confirmation, a hopeful smile curving her lips.

  I nod. “Thanks, Ness.”

  Her smile becomes a sigh. “I’m glad. I know you guys had a lot to talk about.” She comes into the living room and sets the pizzas down on our coffee table.

  “Since I’m already going to need half a bottle of medicine for my crying-induced headache, can we discuss Virginia?” I move to the far end of the couch so she can sit beside Cooper.

  Her eyebrows rise with surprise as she takes a seat, keeping my gaze.

  “I wanted to go, but I also didn’t. Leaving Florida was hard, but I had you guys, and then after that situation with Ricky, I just really didn’t want to be alone for the year.”

  Nessie’s shoulders sink as she reaches out a hand, resting it on
my knee as a fresh round of tears pool in my eyes.

  I continue. “I know you want what’s best for me, and you’re always so good at pushing me to be the best version of myself, and I knew if I tried to tell you about it, you’d want me to go because I’ve talked about this for so long. I know I lied and how unfair that was of me, but it just seemed like the easiest way to stay.”

  “I never wanted you to go,” she admits. “I only wanted you to go because you wanted to go.”

  I place my hand on hers. “Brighton has one of the best astrophysics programs in the entire country, and more importantly, it has you, so I didn’t choose Brighton to be selfless, I chose it for me because having you guys in my life means more than everything else.”

  Nessie wipes away a quick trail of tears that fall across her cheek. She nods as she licks her lips. “I’m glad you chose Brighton,” she tells me. “And I’m sorry I didn’t listen. When you explain it, everything makes sense, I was just so caught up in the fact that you’d lied. I wish you’d just told me.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry about that. I should’ve told you.”

  She squeezes my fingers. “But I also understand why you didn’t. I know I’m not always the best listener.”

  I shake my head, dismissing her words.

  Cooper leans forward. “If it’s any consolation, I’m really fucking glad you turned them down,” he says, his dark eyes intense as he swallows hard, and I know that between this and Ricky and him still missing Tyler, this has been an equally difficult week for Coop.

  “I think we just start making plans for our island retreat,” Nessie says, opening one of the pizzas. “We can all work remotely. Build a giant beach house with a pool.”

  “As long as there’s coffee,” I say, reaching for a slice of pizza. “Then I’m in.”

  Tyler

  “I received a call about a Davenport hotel in Rome going bankrupt. He hired a contractor who fucked him over. It was a mess and cost him an absolute fortune to restore it and get things back open. I’ve heard it’s nice, but he’s drowning in debt and is going to have to sell it to cauterize,” Dad tips his newspaper up as he says this.

  I reach for my cup of tea so I can discreetly look at my watch. It’s seven a.m. here in London, one a.m. in Seattle. I always count the difference. It’s a reflex that has me imagining what Chloe is doing, where she is, what she might be thinking.

  “Have you arranged for your things to be shipped over, or do you need anything?” Dad lowers his paper when I don’t comment on the Davenport site.

  I lift a shoulder and take a long drink of my tea.

  “Everything’s replaceable,” he reminds me. One might mistake his comment as benign, but his words are a tumor, intended to cause harm and inflict pain as his brows hitch, and his eyes challenge me to object.

  I have to set my cup down so I don’t throw it, my muscles strained with objections. I don’t take his bait. Not again.

  Grandad comes into the dining room, wearing a brown suit as he takes a seat at the head of the table, creating a wave of memories of my childhood.

  “I’d like to lead the project on the San Francisco site,” I tell Dad, skirting the issue entirely.

  He blinks, dropping his paper. “Why?”

  “I think we should utilize part of it for a charity. We could use the tax write-off, and it would be great publicity,” I add when his head begins to tilt, ensuring me he’s going to say no. Money is his favorite language, but accolades and good press are a very close second.

  “You should let him,” Grandad says as one of the house staff pours his tea. “There’s only one way to know if he’s going to be able to cut it.”

  Dad looks between us and then releases a long sigh. “I suppose. But you’ll need to clear everything by Phil.”

  My phone vibrates against my thigh.

  It’s her.

  It has to be.

  “That’s fair. I’ll start preparing some projections and get them to Phil by next week. Excuse me.” I don’t give an excuse, pushing my chair back and walking the long distance to my room.

  Cooper: Football starts in 2 days.

  I tip my head back and pace the length of my childhood room. My father has hired an estate agent to find me a flat, but I haven’t made the time to meet with him.

  It’s been two weeks since I arrived in London.

  Every day feels longer than the last.

  I call Coop.

  “I figured you’d be at work,” he says, his tone dry. Bored.

  “I have a business proposition,” I tell him.

  He’s silent for a beat. “As long as it doesn’t involve Chloe.”

  Just the sound of her name sends my thoughts to splinter and my heart to race. “What would I hire you to do with Chloe?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just saying I don’t want to be involved. I can’t be on your side in this.”

  “Is she okay?”

  He laughs, and it’s cold and sardonic. “Is she okay?” he repeats my question. “I’ve seen my best friend cry more during this past week than I have a decade.”

  I swipe a hand down my face, recalling the shock and pain that she’d tried to smile through when she assured me I should go—needed to go.

  “How did Coach take the news that you’re leaving the team?”

  “I haven’t told him,” I admit.

  “Why?”

  “It’s been busy,” I lie. After ten days of being here, I’m realizing that my being here had little to do with the business and everything to do with the illusion Dad was creating. I was back home, training and preparing to take over the family business. It looked regal, professional—official. It had little to do with being here because in a matter of days, my father will be leaving back for the States, and grandad will be traveling to Dubai where he lives for half the year.

  “I’ll be there.”

  “What? Where?”

  “Practice.”

  “What?” Cooper asks.

  “I have a job proposal for you that I’m going to send you. But, I’m coming back to the states. I’m going to lead the San Francisco project, and I’ll need to be closer.” The idea snowballs as I tear open my closet and reach for my suitcase. “I have to go.”

  “What do you want me to tell her?”

  “Nothing. I’ll tell her myself.” I hang up as I reach for a hanger, and call Anika.

  “Good morning, Mr. Banks.”

  “Anika, I need a flight to Seattle.”

  “For when, sir?”

  “Now.”

  I shove the rest of the few items I’d packed back into my suitcase, grab the second, which was never unpacked, and head to the bathroom, where I stare at the few items I have in here before ignoring them and returning to the dining room where my father and grandad have received their breakfasts.

  “This hotel is in my blood, but I love it for many reasons far beyond that. I love that we care about each location and work to ensure the city and it’s history is reflected in the architecture, and that we find ways to give back in each community because that was where we started—where our roots were planted. I love the company, and I’ve always dreamed of becoming the CEO, and that’s what I want to do, but right now, I want to finish school. I want to play football. I want my last two years. And I also want to take lead on the San Francisco project. And when I’m done with it, you’re going to know you didn’t make a mistake by choosing me because it’s going to become our flagship in the States. It’s going to become the hotel that everyone wants to travel to and see with renowned restaurants and luxury. It’s going to be amazing, and I’m going to do it while living in Seattle and finishing my education at Brighton.”

  “This was not our deal,” Dad says, throwing his napkin to the table as he stands to level the playing field.

  “But it should have been, and it is now.”

  Dad tips his chin. “Lewis has more experience. He’s older, more qualified.”

  I shake my head. �
�And I’ll never be able to compete with that. I can’t make myself age ten years overnight. He will always have more experience than me. Always.” I punctuate the word, my voice rising. “But it’s not his name or his family’s legacy that fails if he does. I have worked my entire life to try and be good enough, and if you can’t see that, then you never are.”

  Grandad clears his throat, setting his spoon down. “What is this nonsense about Lewis? Lewis isn’t a Banks.” Though his words support my position, I want to argue that my name isn’t the sole reason I deserve to be my father’s successor.

  “It’s more than that. The hotels are my childhood—my life. I want to live up to this legacy our family has built. I want to continue to make the name Banks Hotel something that makes us proud, our employees proud, and the communities we’re in proud.”

  “How are you going to do that with football and being distracted?”

  Distracted. He still won’t say her name.

  “Football has taught me teamwork, brotherhood, and discipline. I was a good football player when I started, and now, I’m getting news stories. I’ve earned a starting position. I don’t need you to be proud of me but it should make you realize how hard I’ve worked for this and recognize that I have that same determination and drive that I’ll be applying as the CEO.”

  Grandad leans back in his chair, his attention moving to Dad.

  “What about her?” Dad asks.