The conversation was reminiscent of words he’d used with his mother … before she’d packed up and left them for good.
Meg turned to him, eyes watery, and he pushed the old memories aside.
“You were the last decent guy I picked. Sometimes I think I
’m trying to find a better you.” She laughed, grabbed a tissue from her desk, and wiped her eyes. “Why couldn’t we be good together together?” she asked.
He thought of a certain brunette with knowing eyes and a wide smile and knew there was no one else he wanted to be with. “We grew up, Meggie,” he said, using his old nickname for her. One nobody used anymore.
She nodded. “I know. Kissing you now would be like kissing my brother. If I had one,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
He more than felt the same way. “Mike’s taking advantage of your generosity, not to mention your pocketbook.” The guy didn’t pay rent, rarely kicked in for food or anything else, and now he’d likely lost his job but was off to party in Vegas. None of which meant things would be changing any time soon. “Kick the bastard out the minute he gets home. And be more careful with your picks next time,” he said as sternly but as gently as he could.
She nodded, but he knew it would never be that easy. With Meg, drama seemed to follow.
“Thanks for coming over. You always know how to give me that shove in the right direction.” She leaned in and hugged him tight, her cheek rubbing against his.
The way she lingered told him more than anything how hard a time she was having. “Hang in there.”
“I will. Talk to you soon. And thanks again.”
“I’m used to being your sounding board.”
“More like my knight in shining armor, but don’t worry. I intend to find one who really belongs to me one day.”
He shook his head and laughed before heading back to the stadium.
Dylan had a lot of work to do, but he stopped by Olivia’s office on his return. Their lunch might have been canceled, but he wasn’t finished with her. Not by a long shot.
He knocked, because she deserved a little heads up, and let himself in before she could reply—because why give her too much time to pull her defenses together? He caught her at her desk, glasses on, in front of the computer screen.
She glanced up, and he got what he wanted, an unbridled look at her initial reaction. Startled pleasure before she wiped her expression clear. “Dylan. What brings you by?”
He started slowly. “How’d your meeting with Big go?”
She pinched her nose and sighed, her concern for the player all too obvious. “He really doesn’t understand that Wendell is bad for him. It’s sad, really. Marcus is one of those players who got through college because the teachers looked the other way with his grades.” She shook her head. “So added to lack of a solid education, he’s got no street smarts at all. There’s not a bit of slyness in him.”
“Because they all went to Wendell,” Dylan muttered.
Olivia nodded, her eyes sad. “Yeah. But between Coach’s bad cop and my good cop routine, we convinced him he needs to stand on his own and get rid of his cousin.”
“He understands what’s at stake?”
She spread her hands out on the desk. “He should. We made it clear.”
“So no more prostitutes he believes are real dates coming in and stealing the Rolex he neglected to put somewhere safe?”
She managed a smile at that memory.
“And no more arrests when Wendell and his buddies start a fight at a club?” he continued. Big had a history of following his cousin into trouble, strictly out of loyalty.
“You know what?” Olivia asked. “I believe that without Wendell around, he’ll have more time to focus on his training, his game, and on Alex and Madison’s career and lifestyle programs. He has the chance to really learn something productive about how to save money for the future and how to live his life during and after his time playing football.”
She finished her passionate speech, dark eyes flashing with the intensity of her beliefs. Her cheeks flushed, and of course, she had to lick those sexy red lips. Dylan couldn’t help but smile.
“What’s that grin for?” she asked.
“You really care for Big. It’s sweet.”