He approached slowly, giving them plenty of time to hush up before he reached eavesdropping range. Aileen saw him first, and shot him a beautiful smile. His chest tightened all over again, but for a completely different reason. Cassie smiled as well. She was a pretty woman, with a sunny personality, who had been handed a shitty situation to deal with recently. But she was handling it with as much grace as possible, and he could respect her for it. But her smile didn’t make his insides jitter around like Freckles’ did.

Damn. He just had to have the hots for a reporter. More than the hots, unfortunately.

Trey Owens walked up behind him and nudged his shoulder. “What are they talking about?”

“She’s not grilling Cassie,” Killian said defensively. “They’re just talking. Cassie could get up and walk away any time she wanted.”

Trey held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I wasn’t accusing her of anything. Just curious.” He eyed Killian warily. “Are you gonna bite my head off if I go get my girl?”

Killian rolled his eyes and swept his hand out, indicating he was free and clear. Trey winked and ran up to grab Cassie. She stood and her smile brightened several degrees for her lover. She reached out to hug him, then repelled back. “Trey! Shower before you hug me!”

He ignored her admonishments and hooked an arm around her shoulder. They walked down the bleachers together, and he could hear Trey mention dropping her off at her father’s office before taking off to get lunch with the guys.

Killian told himself he wasn’t upset he hadn’t been asked to go out.

Aileen approached warily, like she might walk up to a bear with its paw caught in a trap. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He let her get close, then asked, “What were you two laughing about?”

She shrugged, a small smile curving her lips. “Nothing much.”

“Does she know what your job is?”

Her smile faltered, but she held onto it as best she could. He wanted to kick himself in the nuts for dimming that light. “I told her, she still sat with me. I wasn’t hiding my identity for a story, if that’s what you’re implying. I could have, but I didn’t. That’s not how I operate. And I’m not all that happy you think so low of me.” She kept walking right past him, and he reached to grab her elbow before he remembered they were in a public place. Causing a scene was not high on his list of priorities.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. It was small, but enough to stop her from leaving the bleachers. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant . . . I wanted to make sure she couldn’t come back and accuse you later. She’s a nice lady, and I doubt she would have. But I’m used to playing by the Cover Your Ass playbook.” It was the most important playbook, in his opinion.

She looked out onto the empty practice field for a few moments before nodding. “Fine. I understand. We were just talking, that’s all. I’m not doing a story on her.”

He soaked that in for a moment. “Isn’t everyone trying to? I thought that was the big push. Everyone harass the coach’s daughter, see if she’s really the reason Stephen left the team, or whatever.”

“Stephen left the team?” She blinked up at him, and he saw sharp interest. She’d put her journalist hat back on. “Permanently? Or just for a while? Is he injured? Personal reasons? Where’s his family from?”

Killian shook his head, exasperated. Then a thought came over him. “You know, this is probably a much juicier story than anything you could get from me. Why don’t you make the switch? You probably don’t have jack crap to make a decent story on me anyway. The Stephen thing is much more interesting.” Sorry, Stephen.

She hesitated only for a second, but that hesitation almost offended him. That she would even consider giving up his story for something else. Which was stupid because it was his idea in the first place, to get her off his back.

Then she shook her head. “Nope. I’ve made my choice.” She poked him in the shoulder with one finger. “Good try, though.”

His relieved breath must have sounded more like a belabored sigh, because she scowled. “It’s your day, anyway, so technically I shouldn’t have even come here. You’re supposed to be interviewing me, for who knows what reason.”

He still hadn’t quite figured that out himself. He’d realized there was no way of annoying her. She let things that normal people found irritating roll off her like water on a duck’s back. If he wanted to survive the invasion of privacy without her finding Charlie, he’d have to find another way.

Maybe the other way was just to persevere through the next two weeks. After that, she should be done with the stupid thing. The regular season would be over, and he could concentrate on getting through play-offs in tact.

“I’m not chasing a sensational story. I mean, I know viewers like the drama, and I might, too. But that’s why I watch Real Housewives and The Bachelor. Get my drama fix. I want a real story. Not some mocked-up, overhyped, sensational tale that goes nowhere.” She shrugged. “That’s probably what Stephen is. And I’m about ninety-seven percent sure that’s what that whole ‘love triangle’ crap was, too.” She used quote fingers and a grimace to make her point clear on what she thought of the media coverage surrounding Coach Jordan’s daughter and her supposed two lovers. “You could tell me otherwise, and I’d consider it. But I’m not about to just go chasing after what will likely be a dead end. He’s reported to have personal issues, which was why he’s been out. Clearly, nobody else thought it was all that interesting or they’d have chased it down already.”

More like, they couldn’t find him. Not yet, anyway. “And you don’t care about his personal issues? When you care about mine?” Stupid question. He shouldn’t want her to care about his personal issues.

“I care about telling a story that hasn’t seen the light of day yet. Whether he’s got a sick parent, or an injury the team is trying to cover up, that’s not a new thing.” She grinned up at him. “You are.”

They reached the players’ parking lot before he thought better. He’d been walking on autopilot. When he talked to her, it was like the rest of the world just bled away in a wash of gray. And all he could see, all he could focus on, were auburn strands and cute freckles. “Sorry, let me walk you to your car.”

“Not here. I taxi’d again.”

Damn it. He hated she was spending money she obviously didn’t have chasing him around. “Stop doing that.”

She raised a brow and lifted a hand. “I have to get around somehow. And since my apartment is too far for me to bike . . .” She lifted a hand to wave at Josiah, who was peddling past them on his way home. He popped a wheelie in salute. Immature a-hole. “And the bus doesn’t drop me off close enough to here, I have to rely on the taxi.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “You could take this as a sign of flattery and give me an interview right here and now, all juicy personal details included, so I can stop doing it.”

“Fat chance. Get in.” He walked around and opened his door for her. She didn’t wait, just hopped in, as if she knew he’d be taking her home from the start.

Chapter Fifteen

After he got in and started the car, Killian asked, “When is Sybil going to be fixed?”

“Already is. She’s being held hostage. I have to wait until next week to get her.”

“Hostage for what, a king’s ransom?” He took off down the street, glancing over. She was staring out her window, so all he could see was the curve of one ear and her neck. Both were flushed a vibrant red.