Fox (The Player Book 4) Page 4

  Thank God.

  “Come on, Fox,” she said, wringing out the cloth and letting the water soak it again. “There’s more to this. You’ve been through this before and you never got this bad. And it’s more than just some of your friends getting the call and not you. Spill.” She kept washing him, telling herself it was for his benefit. Liar.

  The noise he made was somewhere between a sigh and a moan. “I’m a Coulter,” he stated flatly.

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “Coulters don’t fail. We just…don’t. Except me. I fail. I’m a failure.” He said with quiet conviction.

  Sasha dropped the washcloth to floor and reached over to pull him toward her, resting his wet head against her shoulder, enveloping his big body in her own. “You are not a failure, and your family isn’t perfect. Look at your grandfather. He didn’t medal in the Olympics.”

  “No, he just helped Gram defect and then won two Super Bowls.”

  “And your dad…he was better at basketball than baseball,” she said, ignoring his counter-arguments.

  “He still made the pros for both.”

  “Bryce choked his first time in the semi—”

  “He didn’t choke, he blew out his knee.”

  “I’m trying to make you feel better,” she reminded him with a hard squeeze of his shoulder.

  “Yeah, well you suck at it. No wonder the prick is looking for someone else to stroke his ego,” Fox said. “Ego-stroking takes a firm grip, and finesse, and knowing just when to tease.”

  Sasha barked a laugh even as she flushed. Because the fact that he made the joke meant she was succeeding in cheering him up. Also, because listening to him say it while they were both in their sopping wet underwear in her shower struck her as particularly funny.

  “Your tits are huge,” he said, as he nuzzled into her cleavage. “Seriously, they’re like big soft pillows. Keep laughing like that. It’s really comfy.”

  She was laughing even harder when she gave his head a small shove off her chest. Because while he was making her laugh, he was also making her warm and tingly deep inside. She reached past him to turn off the water, letting it go cold for a moment before turning it off completely. She could still feel the warmth of his cheek pressed into her flesh, his shoulder and arm against her belly as she’d held him.

  After a long moment, she stood, stepped out, and grabbed the towel she’d set out for him, wrapping it around herself and going to the linen closet to fetch another one for him. “I guess I have a few things to figure out now. I’m not sorry Ryan’s moving out. Don’t get me wrong.”

  “But you’re gonna miss the extra paycheck?” Fox finished for her, using his hands to brush as much of the water from his body as he could.

  He didn’t appear to notice her holding the towel out for him as he slid his fingers through his hair to squeeze out more water. Sasha cleared her throat and looked away from the sight of his waterlogged boxers clinging to, uh …man parts. It was…distracting.

  “Oh, thanks,” he muttered, taking the towel and covering himself. “If you want, I can stay here and pay you rent. Then we’d be roomies and we wouldn’t need to spend half our nights on the phone dissecting Mr. Robot.”

  Sasha laughed. “You’re not serious.”

  “Why not?” Fox asked as he leaned against the doorframe with his hand holding the towel together at his waist. Shit, did he even know what he looked like? All lean muscle, and tattoos. Wet and…sexy. Wait, what? This was Fox. He was her friend.

  Sasha’s grip on her own towel tightened. “Because I do not need my apartment overrun by hockey groupies. I’ll…figure something out.”

  He rolled his eyes. “It wouldn’t be that bad. Besides, I do understand what discretion means. And obviously the whole ‘sugar daddy’ thing doucheface said was complete bullshit. I don’t mind the couch for tonight or whatever. I can’t keep crashing on my other friends’ couches—not…now…”

  She had opened her mouth to object, but Sasha realized why he didn’t want to crash with those friends anymore before she actually said anything. He could take their hospitality when they were teammates, but now it would be tainted with pity rather than camaraderie.

  “And I wouldn’t mind a real bed now and then that didn’t require awkward meals with my parents. With Gage at college, I’m the only one left there. I can’t take that much attention,” he explained, his gaze pleading.

  Sasha wanted to say yes. He was going through a rough patch right now, and she wanted to help. And she couldn’t deny how useful it would be to have his help paying the bills. But she was afraid. They were already too close. And if he was under her roof, she worried she’d slip-up and he’d see that hidden kernel of hope that he’d one day look at her as more than just his friend. Hope was such a stupid thing.

  What’s more, with both of them standing in her bathroom in nothing more than wet underwear and bath towels, she was too aware of that line in their friendship that she knew was better left uncrossed. Jokes that were fine when she had a boyfriend or when he had a girlfriend were a gray area now. But with the forced intimacy of living together…there might be two bedrooms, but there was still only one bathroom. She wasn’t sure what that might do to their friendship, and she didn’t think she was ready to find out.

  Not to mention, Fox was hell on women. She knew him well. There would be half-naked women around here in no time. She was so close to getting her degree, and if the internship continued on as well as it was going, she might even have a job when she was done.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said cautiously. “It’s just… I need to…stay focused on things right now. That was my big mistake with getting involved with Ryan. He was too much of a distraction.” She headed out of the bathroom and he followed on her heels.

  “What makes you think I’d be a distraction?” Fox asked as he held up a hand to keep her from laughing. He gestured to his chest. “You know what? Don’t bother answering that. You’re right. I’m hot. But just so you know, it’s an open offer. If you have a hard time at all and change your mind…” He winked.

  “Get your clothes on,” she scolded him, even as she chuckled.

  “Consider my night on the couch tonight as an audition,” he called over his shoulder as she departed for her bedroom. “I won’t even sleep naked… Unless, you want me to. You know what? I suggest having naked roommate night. C’mon. It’ll be fun.”

  “You are incorrigible,” she called out.

  “I don’t even know what that means.”

  After Sasha closed her bedroom door, she leaned back against it, willing her heart to stop pounding and trying to convince herself the rush of heat in her lower belly was nothing more than a biological response.

  No, having him living with her would definitely be more of a distraction than she could handle at the moment. Their friendship was one of the few things in her life that she could count on. While her jobs and school were going well for her, they weren’t exactly stress-free. Hanging out with Fox was a great way for her to relax, and she desperately needed that. No reason to go and make something complicated that didn’t need to be.

  Four

  It wasn’t like Fox was really sneaking into his own house, he was merely trying to avoid seeing anyone. Particularly his grandfather. But sure enough, as he rounded the corner into the study, Gramps was the first one he saw. He stopped abruptly, hoping the old man hadn’t seen him, but it was too late for that.

  “Fox?”

  He sighed. “Hey, Gramps.”

  “Well, fancy seeing you here. You couldn’t sleep in your bed last night?”

  Fox let that one slide. The old man could fish as much as he wanted.

  “I had some things to take care of.” He pondered to himself, Yeah, like having a fitful night of dreams of my best friend. Those soft lips. And God, her breasts.

  The memory alone of his face pressed into her tits, water raining down on them, was enough to give him wet dreams for a m
onth. He tried to remind himself that she was Sasha, his best friend. He needed to get her tits off his mind. Normally, he was able to forget that Sasha was a girl. They were best friends and confidants as teenagers, even as children. Although, at one point he was convinced that she had cooties, but after that phase they became thick as thieves.

  “Well, Gramps, I’d love to chat, but I have some things—”

  “Just wait a second, Fox. How did it go yesterday?”

  Yesterday was the last thing he wanted to talk about. “You know how these things go, Gramps. I wasn’t who they were looking for this time.”

  His grandfather shook his head, “They don’t seem to understand that you’re a Coulter. Don’t name and legacy mean anything? They are fools. Like I’ve been telling you for years, you need to change sports. You’re big enough…play football. We can get you a private coach to work with you. I have pull, and believe I could get you some tryouts.”

  Fox took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “Gramps, I don’t want to change sports. I love hockey, it’s been my whole life. Hockey to me, is like football to you.”

  Gramps sat back in his chair. “Well, listen to me. From the sounds of it, you won’t make the cut again. How long do you think you have before they stop calling you up in the first place?”

  That was the last thing he needed to hear. “Gramps, I’m going to head to my room.”

  “Don’t sulk. That’s conduct unbecoming a Coulter. If you’ll let me help you, I can have a coach here tomorrow.”

  “Shit—dammit, Gramps! Just give it a rest. You would think you’d have learned your lesson by now after Bryce and Dax. But you still can’t help it. You just push, push, push your agenda.” Fox took a deep breath. “This is why I stayed with Sasha last night. Just so I could avoid this conversation.”

  Immediately, Fox wished he could take back those words. They would just give his grandfather another issue to press. It would make the old man happy to see him and Sasha together. After all, Gramps and Sasha’s grandfather had played ball together.

  Gramps lit up. “I always did like that girl. You’d be doing well if you’d snag her up before someone else does. She’s pretty enough to be any pro athlete’s wife. With her connections, she won’t stay off the market for long.”

  Why did I bother coming home again?

  Fox shook his head. “Please, I’m begging you. Just stop.”

  “I don’t know why the lot of you walk around here being as ungrateful as you are. I am the patriarch of the family. The glue that holds us together. It's my name that you bear. You don’t want to listen to me about your career or your prospects, fine. You don’t want to be with Sasha, fine. It’s probably better anyway, given how her father blew his entire fortune. That girl needs a meal ticket. And we don’t want another golden-haired goddess with her claws sunk into this family.”

  “Gramps, that’s enough.”

  “Fox is right, Dad. Give it a rest.”

  Fox turned to find his father in the doorway. His color was better than usual. But still, he looked tired. A shadow wound its way around Fox’s spine, as the warmth settled into his body. His father looked improved, but was he actually better? How long would he remain better, if he kept pushing at the pace he was?

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hi, Fox. We heard from Echo. Sorry about the trials.”

  More pity. Just what I needed.

  Fox shrugged. “I’ll get it next time. I’ll see you later. I’m going to grab some stuff from my room before heading to practice.”

  Fox ran out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn’t run to escape his grandfather, or even the specter of his father’s illness. He ran from the pity, as it was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

  I don’t need their pity. Dammit, I’m a Coulter, not a washout. I can’t be.

  “What aspects do you want me to change?” Sasha took out paper and pen, ready to take as many notes as necessary as she sat in Ida’s office.

  Ida shook her head. “Not many, actually. Just one major thing. We want you to focus on a central character, sort of like a case study. Yes, you’re talking about the effect that this amount of pressure can have on these young athletes well into adulthood. I just don’t think we can properly illuminate that without actually using someone specific as an example.”

  Sasha waited for Ida to mention a certain local high school kid, for whom everyone had big plans. He made it to college, but busted his knee during his first game. His injury caused him to lose his scholarship, so he pretty much came back home to San Diego and started at a community college. He was trying to get his life back on track.

  Sasha pointed to the young man’s name on the list. “You mean him?”

  “No, closer to home than that. Fox Coulter. You know him, right? The word is he’s a very good friend of yours. Other rumors are centered around the fact that he has been trying to make it to the major league NHL for years. Coming from a family like the Coulters? That’s huge! You should use that.”

  Sasha sat up straighter. “You want me to do the story about Fox?” She repeated what Ida had said in the vain hope that she had heard incorrectly. There was no way that her boss, her mentor, was asking her to throw her best friend under the bus for a story.

  “Exactly.” Ida shrugged. “Well, in a manner of speaking. But if you use the template as a starting point, we can go from there. Expand on what you’re hypothesizing. I think it’d be great, and seeing as you two are friends, he’d be a perfect subject to focus on because you know him so well.”

  “Ida, I don’t think I can do that. He’s my friend,” Sasha protested. “There are things that he’s told me in confidence. Things he would never tell anyone else.”

  “Exactly! You can get to the heart of the matter, your friend, and also become a journalist. We’re not naming names. Why would I call him out? You can see what his attempts are doing to his psyche. Your relationship will inform your questions when you go talk to experts and psychologists.”

  “I’m not doing the story on Fox. Do you have any idea how hurt he would be?”

  “I understand.” Ida said. “And I’m not asking you to do a story on Fox Coulter. I’m asking you to do the story you pitched, just with Fox Coulter in mind. He makes a great case study. He’s young and has had every advantage known to man, but still can’t make it. So if someone like him can’t make it with an athletic gene pool like his, then what’s it really like for normal people?”

  Sasha tried to sort it all out in her head. Use Fox to inform my story? No. I can’t do that.

  “I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be down for it.”

  “Sasha, you’re a smart kid,” Ida replied. “And you look beautiful on camera. I think with a story like this you can make your mark. Like I said, I’m not asking you to give up the source, and I’m not asking you to do a story about Fox. I think you can talk to him and use some of what he tells you as a way to map out your story. Take a little time to think about it and let me know.”

  Sasha watched her boss walk away. What was she supposed to do? The tiny voice in her head spoke again. Well, it’s not about him. It’s about pressure from people like his grandfather and the rest of his family and what that does to him.

  Sasha got an idea. There might be a way to do this story without using Fox at all. She had thought of another athlete to use as her focus, and that might work. Ida didn’t need to know, and that way she didn’t have to hurt Fox. The only drawback was that Fox would eventually see the story.

  Would he recognize some of himself? Not if I don’t use him as a template. She could interview some of his brothers. Bryce, Dax—hell, even Echo. Yeah, that could work. They’d all seen their share of adversity.

  Sasha was friends with all of them. They all grew up together, but Fox was always her best friend. This might just work, and she could leave Fox out of her story.

  Once her brain worked out a way around the Fox issue, the excitement set in. They really liked he
r proposal. She could do amazing things. She could help people. Her goal was within reach.

  Five

  For Sasha, the next week and a half passed in a whirlwind of school, internship, school, work, internship, and work again. The restaurant was a high-end place, so the tips were generally pretty good. But parties also tended to take their time making the turnover was slow which unfortunately, balanced things out in the end.

  She’d probably have been able to make more if she worked as a bartender, but that would require taking a class and she was stretched thin as it was. She hadn’t found a new roommate yet, and desperation was becoming a thing with rent coming due in another week along with the electricity and water bills.

  “Hey, Freddie, how’s your apartment hunt going?” she asked the bartender, Frederica, while waiting for her to mix the drinks she needed for table seven. “I’ve got an extra room that’s up for grabs.”

  Freddie’s smile was strained as she concentrated on the shaker in her hands, the noise of the ice too loud for her to answer right away. “Sorry, Sash,” Freddie said as she poured out the drink and added its garnish. “I just finished unpacking at my new place. It’s smaller than a closet, but the view over the water is worth it. Not to mention the rent is manageable with me all by my lonesome.”

  Damn, she’d taken too long to ask. “Yeah, I figured, but it was worth a shot,” Sasha said as she carefully placed the drinks on the serving tray.

  “You haven’t gotten back together with Ryan, then?”

  “Nope. There will be no mending of anything with Ryan,” she said. “I’m through making excuses for his general douchery, and I’m done wasting my time and energy on carrying his ego around for him. He picked up the last of his things while I was in class yesterday morning and then I had the locks changed. That’s the last I have to see of him…except when I’m at the station.”