I couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of my eye from time to time as I drove. The radio wasn’t on and it was one thing for us to eat at the counter together quietly but a totally different thing for us to be in the car not saying a word. “Did they tell you what was wrong with your car?” I made myself ask.

“The driver thought it was something with the computer.”

That made sense. I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as more lightning filled the horizon. “Has your training been going okay?”

“Fine.”

“Please tell me more,” I snickered. “At least you’ve won all your games so far.”

“Barely,” he said in a thin tone that seemed sandwiched between frustration and anger.

I’d seen a short segment just yesterday about this superstar the Three Hundreds had played against a few days ago, and I’d been amazed. “That guy from Green Bay was huge.”

I could feel the insulted expression he was shooting my way even though I was facing forward. “He isn’t that big,” he corrected me with a huff.

He was though. I’d seen pictures of the guy the Three Hundreds were playing against, and I’d seen him on television. The guy was six foot five and just shy of three hundred pounds; he was definitely stockier than Aiden and I could tell those extra pounds weren’t pure muscle, but big was big. I kept my mouth shut though and didn’t insist he was wrong. I could pretend his opponent hadn’t been the size of Delaware. Sure.

“Well, your team won.”

Aiden shifted around in his seat. “I could have played better.”

What could I say to that? I’d sat through enough interviews with people fawning all over him to know that Aiden soaked up every single one of his imperfections and every mistake he’d ever committed. It was stupid and wonderful how much he expected of himself. Nothing was ever good enough. He had so much to improve on, according to him.

“Oh, Aiden.”

“What?”

“You’re the best in the country—and I’m not just saying that to be nice—and it means nothing to you.”

He made a dismissive noise, those long fingers resting on his knee kind of flicked up in a dismissive gesture. “I want to be remembered years from now. I have to win a championship for that.”

Something about his tone pecked at my brain, at that part of me that had stayed up for years to quit my day job one day. “Then you’ll be happy?” I asked carefully.

“Maybe.”

I wasn’t sure what it was about his ‘maybe’ that chewed up my insides. “You’ve won Defensive Player of the Year three years out of eight, big guy. I don’t think anyone will ever forget you. I’m just saying. You should be proud of yourself. You’ve worked hard for it.”

He didn’t agree or disagree, but when I turned to look at the passenger side mirror, he was facing out the window with what amounted to about the most thoughtful expression I’d ever seen.

Maybe.

On the other hand, I might have been imagining it.

My phone started ringing loudly from its spot where I’d left it in the cup holder. I glanced at it, but the screen was faced down, and I couldn’t get a good look without grabbing it, which I sure as hell wasn’t going to do, especially not when the rain started slapping the windshield more forcefully. As quickly as the ringing came on, it went out.

Then it started all over again.

“Are you going to answer that?” Aiden asked.

“I don’t like to talk on the phone when I’m driving,” I explained, just as the phone stopped ringing.

He hummed.

Then it started once more.

With a sigh, he grabbed it and looked at the screen. “It’s your mom.”

Oh shit. “Don’t—”

“Hello?” the big guy answered, putting the phone to his face. “She’s busy.” I turned my head to see his lower lip slightly jutting out. “I’ll make sure to let her know.” By the amount of anger in his enunciation, that was the last thing he was planning on doing.

How about that. Before I could thank him for his phone answering skills, he touched my phone’s screen and set it back into the cup holder. Wariness wiggled around in my belly and I cleared my throat. “My best friend finally found out we got married.”

“I thought you told her.”

“She knew we were going to do it, but I didn’t tell her we actually did. She said her brother told her, so I wonder how he found out.”

“She didn’t tell you?”

Thinking about how the conversation had gone again, I smirked at myself. “No. She was too busy yelling.”

Aiden made a thoughtful yet absent sound.

“That might be why my mom called. I’m usually the one who calls her.” Except for when she’d called in the wake of my failed trip to El Paso. Just thinking about it made me mad all over again. Maybe I’d wait to call her back… next month. I shook the bitter thought off. “Where’s your lawyer’s office at?”

Thirty minutes later, I pulled my Explorer into the multi-level covered parking lot adjacent to a tall professional office building.

“I’ll wait here,” I said, turning off the engine.

Aiden shook his head as he opened the car door. “Come with me.”

I eyed my legs and then shook my own head. “I’m not really dressed…”