Page 96 of Whiskey Wednesdays
“Are you threatening me?” Coach Bailey asked softly.
Ben shook his head. “No. I’m just reminding you who you actually work for. If anyone has a right to be upset about this, it’d be Dr. Singhal and myself, and we don’t see a problem. I think we’re done here.” He got up and walked out, and I followed him.
As we walked back to the medical office, I glanced at Ben. “I’m sorry for involving you in this.”
“Confidentially, Coach Bailey isn’t well-loved. And in my opinion, he’s a narcissistic, egotistical prick.” He looked down at me. “Be careful, Isa. I don’t want to see him undermine all your hard work.”
I didn’t either.
When Connor got home that night, he greeted Elodie and my dad, but he avoided my eyes. Throughout dinner, he was quiet.
“How was your day?” I asked him after Dad headed home and we’d tucked Elodie in together. I wanted to tell him about my run-in with Coach Bailey, but he seemed so distant.
He finally looked at me, but didn’t smile. “It was fine. I have some work I need to finish up tonight though.”
I took the hint and left him alone. When he finally came into the bedroom, I pretended to be asleep. I didn’t tell Connor about Coach Bailey, and we didn’t talk about the article because he became quiet and withdrawn over the next week. But he often woke me up in the middle of the night to have sex.
As the week wore on, I wondered if he was embarrassed about his business colleagues and former teammates knowing about me. Then I wondered if he’d gotten bored and wanted me out of his house. I even worried that maybe he’d gotten sick and didn’t want to tell me.
On Friday night after we’d tucked Elodie in, I asked him again. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He glanced at me. “Nothing. I just have a few things on my mind. It doesn’t concern you.”
He was lying, and we both knew it. When I stopped in the middle of the hall, he took my hand and started pulling me.
I dug my heels in. “You’ve barely spoken to me since that article came out. What’s bothering you? Are you embarrassed to be with me?”
His jaw clenched. Connor pulled me into his bedroom and backed me against the door. He’d accused me of the same thing not long ago.
“I’m not embarrassed, and don’t say that again. Nothing’s bothering me except you still have your clothes on.”
He started taking off my shirt.
“Connor, talk to me. You can’t keep using sex to avoid whatever this is.”
He froze, then laid his forehead against mine. “I don’t want to lose you. I should have…”
“What? You should have what?”
When he didn’t answer, my stomach dropped. “I’m sleeping in the other room tonight. When you’re ready to tell me what in the actual fuck is going on, let me know.”
For the next two days, I slept alone. Connor finally came into the guest bedroom on Sunday night and picked me up. He carried me back to his bed and tucked me under him with his arm and leg hooked around me.
I lay still for a few minutes and listened to him breathe, then turned my head into his shoulder. His warm body smelled so good, and I wanted to run my hands up and down his chest. But there was a wall between us I couldn’t breach.
“Please talk to me.”
He pulled me closer but didn’t say anything. Long after he’d fallen asleep, I looked out the window at the early morning light, tears sliding down my cheeks.
Work dragged on Monday. I tried to hide my melancholy, but Titus cornered me in the medical office as I got ready to leave.
He leaned his hip against the counter and studied me. “Talk to me. You haven’t teased any of us all day. You’re starting to worry us.”
Pretending to study whatever was on my laptop, I gave him a small, distracted smile. “I’m fine. Just a little tired is all.”
“Bullshit. You look sad.” He reached over and grasped my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
I slid my computer into my backpack. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Connor stopped talking to me.”
