I just can’t.
Every day, it eats at me. I expect it to start to dull, to get easier, but it doesn’t.
I’m so fucking pathetic.
I know I have to do something. I keep going back and forth about it. I consider stepping down. I consider asking Atlas to find me a new team.
In the end, I know there’s no good solution. But only one course of action seems to make any sense to me at all.
It’s the one course of action I really, really don’t want to take. But I need to do it.
Not just for myself. But for Leah as well.
I wait another few days. By Thursday, though, I can’t handle it anymore.
I find Atlas sitting in one of the tape rooms, watching a replay of the last game.
His feet are kicked up on a chair, a cigar pinched between his teeth. He has a whisky glass on the table, empty except for some ice.
I knock on the door. “Atlas?”
He looks up. “Ah, Coach. Come in.”
I step into the room. It’s dark when I shut the door. Just the game playing on the big screen in silence, evidence of my failure.
“Glad you’re here,” he says. “I’ve been studying this. I wanted to ask you a few questions.”
“Sure,” I say, even though I make it a point to avoid his questions. “But I actually hoped I could talk to you first.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Sure thing.” He pauses the game, motions at a chair. “Take a seat.”
I sit, even though I’d rather stand. “It’s about… well, I don’t know how to say this.”
“It’s about why we lost, isn’t it?”
I nod slowly. “It is.”
“And you’re ashamed of it?”
I narrow my eyes. “Something like that.”
“Okay then. Out with it.”
I stare at the younger man for a moment. He seems so strange to me, but I have to remember that he’s a self-made billionaire. He didn’t inherit his money. He has talents that I haven’t quite seen yet.
“I’ve been seeing Leah Reed,” I say.
He stares at me. Surprise doesn’t register.
“The trainer,” I prompt him softly.
He sighs. “I know who you mean. I’m just processing this information.”
I nod and look away. “I know it’s inappropriate for me to be seeing an employee. I understand this is a violation. I know you’ll do what you have to do.”
He’s silent. He puffs on his cigar and stares at me. I think he’d drink more whisky if he had some.
Finally, he sighs. “So I guess that’s why she decided not to go out with me.”
I hesitate and shrug. “I guess so.”
“Why didn’t you speak up before?”
“I… didn’t think I could.”
He waves the cigar at me. “Frankly, Cole, you should’ve realized I wouldn’t give a shit. I mean, I was trying to date her myself.”
I frown. “You don’t care?”
“Of course I don’t care. I was trying to date her myself.”
“You don’t work for the team, though.”
“I own the damn team. It’s even worse for me to be with her than you.” He sighs, shakes his head. “I just don’t care about that.”
“You honestly don’t mind if I see her?”
I can see cracks in the roof. I feel like light is starting to shine down on me, but I don’t let myself get excited.
“Not unless it’s going to distract you,” he says softly, arching an eyebrow. “Is it?”
“Not any more than I already am,” I admit. “And we were winning before.”
He snorts. “I guess things aren’t good between you two.”
“Sean caught us. I figured it was time to stop, but…”
“But you don’t want to stop.”
“Not at all.”
He shrugs. “Then don’t. Sean will keep his mouth shut.”
“I can’t believe you’re taking this so well.”
“Believe it.” He leans toward me. “Listen, Cole. I don’t give a fuck who you sleep with, so long as you’re winning. If fucking Leah’s going to help you win, then you better start fucking her again.”
I wince a little at the vulgarity of what he’s saying, but he’s right. I mean, about fucking Leah.
I need to start doing that again. Fucking hell, I really need it.
“Okay,” I manage to say. “I mean… okay.”
“So go for her, you idiot. If you like her, and she likes you, what’s the harm?”
“Okay.” I feel so stupid. It was this simple from the start.
Well, not exactly. Just because Atlas says I can go for it, doesn’t mean it’s an appropriate thing. I still have to hide it from the league.
But with Atlas’s permission, it’ll be easier. He can protect us, keep the league off our backs…
“Well? Go fucking talk to her.” Atlas waves me away.
“Thanks,” I manage to say, standing up.
“Oh, and Cole? If we ever lose again like we did to Seattle, I’m going to fire you.”
He’s not laughing.
I don’t laugh either.
“We won’t.”
“Good man. See you later.”
I nod and leave the room.
Atlas Gage is a weird guy. A very weird guy.