Kulti (28 page)

I
tried
to reason with myself that he was just being a dick because I started it. “No,” I said calmly, looking him right in the eye because being shy when you’re being rude just makes things worse. “I’ll put it back on in a sec.”

H
opefully if I waited a minute
, the anchors would be talking about something else.

T
he guy
just stared at me. Sometimes you didn’t need to actually say the word ‘bitch’ to get the message across. This guy had obviously mastered that talent.

I
sensed
Kulti before he actually made it back. He purposely walked right in front of me, the side of his leg bumping into my knees, before taking his spot on the chair next to mine. It took him all of a second to catch onto the ugly vibes the other man was sending.

T
he German leaned forward
, one elbow on his knee and half his body facing me, but his head was cocked at the stranger. Fortunately my hat was pulled down low on his forehead. “I’m sure there’s something else you can look at, friend.”

“
I
’d be looking
at the TV,
friend
, if your lady hadn’t turned it off,” the man explained.

K
ulti didn’t ask
me why I turned it off or why I didn’t turn it back on. He stayed in the same position he was in, his free hand resting on his other knee. “Instead of worrying about the television, maybe you should be worrying about your cholesterol, no?”

O
h God
.

“
M
iss Casillas
, will you follow me?” A voice spoke from the door.

I
stood
up and lightly punched Kulti in the shoulder as he stared across the room at the other man. He stood up after me, not giving the man another thought. Lowering my voice so only he could hear, I whispered, “You might want to call your publicist. They were talking about Kulti on
Sports Room,
and it wasn’t about him playing soccer.” I tipped my chin down. “Do you know what I mean?”

H
is eyes moved
from one of mine to the other before he nodded his understanding.

I
’m not
sure why I did it, but I reached over and gave his wrist a squeeze. “You didn’t steal anything or kill anyone. Whatever anyone else who doesn’t know you thinks, isn’t a big deal.”

“
M
iss Casillas
?” the medical personnel called my name once more.

“
I
’m coming
.” Making my eyes go wide at the German, I took a step back. “Let me go get this over with.”

T
he last thing
I did before heading to the back for my appointment was drop the remote on the seat next to the man’s wife. The x-ray went by quickly, mostly because I was thinking about the situation with Kulti. He hadn’t confirmed or denied anything. So what did that mean?

T
hirty minutes later
, I was sitting in a room with my doctor as he showed me a great set of films. “Nothing is broken. See? Not even a hairline fracture,” he confirmed.

“
T
hat’s
what I wanted to hear.” I smiled at the doctor I’d been going to since I moved to Houston. His medical assistant stood in the corner of the room.

“
Y
ou should look
into doing some milk commercials. You’ve got some strong bones on you, Sal,” he joked around, scribbling something into my file. “I recommend you take a week off to be on the safe side—“

I
choked
.

“—
b
ut at least four
days if you choose to be stubborn and get back.” He looked up with a smile.

Y
eah
, that wasn’t much better.

“
I
’ll get
you a note if you need one, or else just have someone shoot me a call or an email if they want to speak to me,” the doctor said. “You don’t want to make it any worse. Your body needs the rest.”

F
our days
off would really be five because I’d miss the game and have Sunday off by default.

H
anding
my file to his assistant, the older man smiled. “My wife and I went to your season opener,” he noted. “You’ve got a real talent, kiddo. I haven’t seen anyone move like you since
La Culebra
. You’ve heard of him, haven’t you?”

I
only barely caught my
smile before it fell off my face. “Yes, I have. That’s very nice of you to say.” I cleared my throat and ignored the weirdness I felt at the mention of the Latin American star. “Thanks for going to the game, by the way. I can probably get you a set of comp tickets for another one if you’d like to go again.”

“
T
hat’d be great
. Any game would be fine.”

I
made
a mental note to see who I could con some tickets out of.

“
S
o
, ah, what’s it like working with Kulti?” The doctor’s cheeks were pink at the apples.

I
was suddenly thankful
the German hadn’t followed me into the exam room. I could only imagine how much the doctor would flip out if he knew Reiner ‘The King’ Kulti had been sitting in his waiting room. “It’s… great. He’s tough, but he knows what he’s talking about.”

T
he doctor got
this dreamy look in his eyes. “I bet. I’ve always wanted to meet him. ”

S
o
. Not. Obvious.

“
I
was pretty
nervous around him at first.” That was the truth. “But he’s just like everyone else,” I said as I slid off the exam table as gently as possible, not exactly believing the words coming out of my mouth. Kulti wasn’t really like everyone else. Not totally. Edging toward the door, I told him, “I’ll email you the tickets once I get them.”

I
f he was disappointed
that I didn’t make an offer to introduce him to the German, he didn’t show it. The medical assistant passed me my file and instructed me on how to take care of my co-pay. Thanking the doctor and his assistant once more, I opened the door and found Kulti leaning on the wall next to it.

“
Y
ou scared me
,” I said, glancing back to make sure the doctor was still in the room. I gestured toward the exit where the receptionist sat. “Come on.”

I
made
my payment as quickly as possible, trying to get the heck out of there before the doctor saw my friend. My friend who didn’t say a single word as we took the elevator down to the lobby, and the same friend that stayed quiet as we got into the car his driver had brought us to the doctor in. His jaw was hard, his shoulders even harder, and I didn’t miss the way his hands were fisted as he stared out the window the entire ride back to my place.

I
swallowed
and looked out the opposite window, not sure what to say to make the situation better. Honestly, I didn’t even want to ask what he’d found out. While I was pretty sure he considered me a friend, I didn’t fool myself into thinking that he was going to spill his troubles to me. Considering there were things I still would rather he not know either, I figured I wasn’t in a position to be a hypocrite and ask.

W
hen the car
pulled into the driveway that led to my garage apartment, I hesitated. The German was still looking out the window; apparently he wasn’t getting out, I guessed. “Hey.”

H
e didn’t turn
to look at me completely, but his jaw flexed. He was like a little freaking kid that was pissed off. Avoiding eye contact and not speaking.

A
ll right
. “You know your reputation is just what everyone else thinks of you, your character is what you really are.”

I
knew
from the moment he licked his bottom lip that he wasn’t yearning for my support. But knowing I was about to get it wasn’t enough warning. “If I needed your inspirational bullshit, I would ask for it.”

W
ell
, all right.

B
ottling up my aggravation
, I tried to put myself into his shoes. I would
hate
it if my personal life went public and everyone started talking about it. He was right to be frustrated, but I really was just trying to help. So, okay.
Patience
. Sure he had experience with being under a worldwide microscope, but that didn’t mean it would get easier to deal with over time, right?

I
sucked
in a breath through my nose, my hand squeezing the door handle. “I’m only trying to tell you this isn’t the end of the world. You’ll get through this like you always have. At the end of the day, this isn’t a big deal, all right? ”

K
ulti kept his attention forward
; his index finger went up to scratch at the side of his nose. I could feel the arrogance coming off of him. Good gracious. “How many endorsements do you have?” he asked in a cold voice.

“
W
hat does
it matter how many endorsements I have?” I replied evenly. I wasn’t going to let him make me feel insignificant just because I didn’t have the backing or the fan base he did.

“
Y
ou’re
a kid with one endorsement who makes in one year what I used to make playing ten minutes of a single game. I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what’s important and what’s not important.”

I
ndignation burned my throat
. I straightened up my spine and shot him a really miserable look, which would have been a lot more effective if he was actually facing me. Because
what a fucking douche-bag
. I had this horrible urge to kick him right in the balls. “I’m okay with you being upset that your private life is getting joked about on national television, but I didn’t think you’d be a snob when all I’m trying to do is put this in perspective for you.”

“
Y
ou don’t know
a damn thing,” he muttered.

J
esus Christ
. “I know enough. You’re not the only person in the world that’s done something they’ve regretted. So what if you have your license suspended? Whoopty freaking do, Rey. But it’s done and over with, and all that matters is what you do with yourself from now on. Being a prick isn’t the way to go about it. But what do I know? I’m poor and I’m young, right?”

K
nowing
there was nothing left to do or say, I opened the door and turned my whole body to exit the easiest way possible for my ribs. “Thanks for the ride and for coming with me,” I said right before hoisting myself out.

N
othing
. He didn’t say a word as I shut the door.

W
ell
.

T
o be fair
, I had been warned.

Jenny had sent me a text message letting me know that practice on Friday had been bombarded by reporters wanting the scoop on Reiner Kulti’s supposed DUI.

I had just begun wondering why people would care when I reminded myself that I didn’t—I shouldn’t. Especially not after someone had been a massive asshole to me. For four days I stayed at home, and for three of those days I let myself fume over how he’d spoken to me.

I made more money in a day than you do in a year for doing the exact same thing
. Of course it pissed me off. The salary scale was a hard fact, as much as it sucked, but he didn’t need to be a pretentious dick about it.

Then to top it off, although I hadn’t exactly expected an apology, I had definitely not gotten one. Not a text, not a phone call, nothing. So maybe I wouldn’t have been so bothered by the overabundance of media sectioned off from the soccer field if Kulti wouldn’t have been rude when I was only trying to be a good friend.

“Sal! What do you have to say about your coach’s public record?” one yelled.

“How do you feel about—“

I waved them off and kept walking toward the field. “Sorry! I have to get to practice!” It was the truth; I wasn’t lying. I did have to get to practice. After four days off with my ribs still the slightest bit sore and my stomach still brushed over with scabs, I had to get back into the swing of things.

My bout with an imaginary virus needed to be over.

“You’re back!” Genevieve, one of my teammates, greeted me as I walked passed her. “Are you feeling any better?”

As long as no one punched me in the rib, I would be. Unfortunately that wasn’t what I could say to her. “Way better. Good job on Friday, by the way.”

She smiled at me and went back to putting on her cleats.

Most of the other girls greeted me as I walked by them, saying that they were happy to see me back or that they’d missed me. It was an exaggeration more than likely but I’d give them the benefit of the doubt. I sure as hell had missed them—at least the field—and Jenny and Harlow for sure. Getting stuck indoors for four days had been torture.

Arms came up from behind to wrap around my neck. “I’m so happy you’re back,” Jenny said into my ear, giving me a squeeze that had me freezing in place.

“I missed you too,” I gripped her forearms before reaching back to smack her in the hip.

She only hugged me harder before pulling away. Standing back, Jenny tipped her head over in the direction of the media, waggling her eyebrows at the same time. “Nuts, huh?”

The fact I had been the one to tell Kulti about the coverage was nuts. The other fact, that Marc was the only one who had any idea that I spent time with the German, was nuts. I wasn’t the type to have secrets—and this one made me feel bad. I was lying to my friends and family, and it wasn’t like I could stop this deep into it.

All I could do was nod, turning around to face her. “Yeah. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Me neither.” Jenny shrugged but quickly reached up to tap my elbow. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He’s been in a horrible mood since then.” She paused like she was really thinking about what came out of her mouth. “In a
worse
mood. I overheard him tell Grace she should look into retiring.”

My eyes bugged out.

Jenny just nodded.

Jeez. I thought about it for possibly five more seconds and then shook off my Kulti-related thoughts. I had better things to do.

“Come help me stretch. Everything is tight,” I told her.

She reached up and squeezed my shoulder. It took everything inside of me not to buckle my knees in order to get further away from her. As casually as possible, I stepped out of her reach. Seriously, I wondered if her boyfriend let her get anywhere near his privates.

I was in the middle of wondering if she’d ever given a hand job when I spotted Gardner and Kulti walking toward the field together. Whether they were talking or not, I couldn’t tell, but my teeth responded to the sight of the German.

If he’d apologized the next day or the one after that, I would have forgiven him with only giving him a minimal amount of shit. It wasn’t like he was the first person to make an asshole-ish comment to me in my life, and there was no way he’d be the last. My own mom had said some pretty rude things to me at one point or another, but I always forgave her. I wasn’t even going to get started with the stuff Ceci, my little sister, had said to me over the years, which only reminded me of my upcoming trip back to San Antonio for my dad’s birthday; I still needed to get him something.

“I’ll grab you a mini-band,” Jenny said, tearing me out of my thoughts, thankfully.

I needed to focus.

S
queezing my eyes shut
, I fell back against the turf to try and catch my breath after running sprints. My back hurt, my lungs felt like they were wrapped in an iron band that was shrinking by the minute, and as much as I wanted to pull up my shirt to fan off, I couldn’t without showing everyone my belly.

Good grief.

A shadow came over my chest, followed shortly by, “You have more in you,
schnecke.
Get up.”

I kept my eyes closed. The temptation to ignore him was overwhelming, but I couldn’t do that. Pretending like he wasn’t there would just give him more power. On top of that,
schnecke?
What the hell did that mean? It didn’t matter. Whatever. “I’ll be up in a second,” I told him on a long exhale.

My own personal eclipse didn’t move despite the fact I had at least responded to him.

I didn’t bother opening my eyes either as I finished catching my breath.

The shadow shifted to the right as something hit the side of my foot. “Are you well enough to play today?” Kulti’s voice was low as he spoke.

His nudge got me to open my eyes and stare straight up at the blue-gray sky. “No.”

Kulti was standing by my feet, his hands behind his back as he looked down at me.

I glanced at him for a second then rolled to sit up gently and get to my feet. Sparing him another look, I gave the German a tight smile I wasn’t feeling at all. “I need to get back.”

That’s exactly what I did.

A
t eight o’clock that night
, my cell phone dinged with a text.

From my spot on the couch with my socked feet up on the coffee table, I glanced at the screen and saw ‘German Chocolate Cake’ pop up.

I went right back to watching my show. If it was life or death he’d call, and he didn’t.

A
t five o’clock
the following afternoon, my phone beeped with an incoming text message again.

‘German Chocolate Cake’ appeared on the screen.

For a second I thought about picking it up and possibly reading the message, but I’d ignored the one the day before; during practice today, he’d given me a massive amount of hell during my one-on-one game. Basically, he was acting like nothing was wrong, and like he hadn’t been an ass days before.

Now he was texting me again.

“Did they get your phone number?” Marc asked from behind the wheel.

I set my phone back between my legs and shook my head. Marc already knew about the insanity at practice with the reporters and the mystery behind Kulti’s driving record. He’d been warning me that it was only a matter of time before someone got desperate enough to call, especially since Jenny and I were the only players that had pictures with him floating around the internet.

“No.” I smiled at my friend and before I realized what the hell was coming out of my mouth, I made up something up. “Wrong number.”

“
A
re you done
?”

I pulled my bag up and over my opposite shoulder and straightened, wiping at my forehead with the back of my hand. “I have to get to work.”

The German had his own bag over his shoulder. His handsome, handsome face was tight as he ran a hand over his head.

I raised my eyebrows, forced a smile on my face and turned to start walking.

Kulti’s hand whipped out to grab my wrist, stopping me in place. “Sal,” he hissed, turning me to face him.

I took a breath through my nose and tipped my head back to look him in the eye. “Kulti, I need to get to work. “

His head jerked back, the corner of his cheek rounding like he was sticking his tongue there. “Kulti, really?”

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” I slid my arm up and out of his grip, keeping my gaze locked on those green-brown eyes that seemed lighter today than usual. “Look, I really need to get to work. I need my job to help me pay bills.” So maybe my smile turned a little condescending, a little smug and just the tiniest bit bitchy.

“You shouldn’t give me the power to make you angry.” He lowered his face to mine and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes.

“What I shouldn’t do is waste my time on someone with an attitude problem.”

Kulti’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his gaze intense on me as he took his time replying. The words were even and steady out of his mouth. “I used to make more money in a day than most people do, you aren’t the only one—“

This wasn’t helping at all. My eye twitched. “Yeah you made more money in a day than most people in third world countries make in a lifetime. Trust me, I understand, and I could care less about how much money you make or don’t make. Don’t be an idiot.”

He wasn’t used to being called an idiot if the look on his face said anything, but by that point I couldn’t have cared less. “I’ve worked as hard as you did to get to where I’m at. Just because I don’t make as much money as you doesn’t make me any less worthy.”

Kulti shook his head. “I never said it did.”

“Well, you sure made it seem like it did. Just like you made me feel this small for having another job,” I told him, holding my thumb and index finger about an inch apart.

“Sal,” he grumbled my name.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “I do landscaping. Did you know that? Because you’ve never asked, but I think you should know if you didn’t. Sorry I’m not sorry that I can’t live up to your standards.”

“What standards?”

“Your standards. I can’t give you advice because I’m too young? Or is it that I’m poor? Wait, it’s because I’m a girl. Is that it?”

“Why are you being so stubborn about this? That isn’t what I meant.”

That had me letting out a sharp laugh. “If our roles were switched, you really think you wouldn’t say something similar if not worse? Seriously?” He’d tell me to eat shit and kiss his ass for sure, and that was the PG-13 version of it.

He knew it was the truth from the way his tongue poked at the side of his cheek.

I gently tugged my arm away from him, and he let me that time. “Look, I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now. You don’t get to take your anger out on me and expect me to get over it like nothing happened. The fact is, I would never say what you said to me to anyone. I thought we were friends and that’s my mistake. I don’t want to be friends with someone that looks down on me. I really do need to get to work.” I took a couple steps back and offered him a smile that I wasn’t feeling. “I’ll talk to you later.”

I have no idea if or how he responded because I took off. I hadn’t been lying. Marc and I had a lot of work to do.

I
stared
at the images on the tablet.

“Is it?”

Was it me in the pictures?
Yes, it was. Clasping my hands and settling them between my thighs, I looked away from the photographs that had been taken right outside of my doctor’s building.

The first picture I’d been shown was of me walking alongside Kulti with my head down. The second was of me standing by his car right before getting in, and the third showed me getting in while the German stood a little too close behind.

It was definitely me. There was no denying it; anyone with decent vision could recognize who it was.

So the fact that Gardner, Sheena and Cordero, the Pipers’ general manager, had invited me to a meeting to talk about this had me on edge.

Is it you
? Cordero had asked shortly before Sheena slid the tablet over.

It was a trick freaking question and I didn’t like it. Maybe it was a good thing that I wasn’t a liar and that I didn’t have anything to hide. Regardless, I was still on edge.

I looked at the man behind this crap right in the eye and nodded. “It’s me.”

None of them looked remotely surprised. Of course they wouldn’t. Mr. Cordero knew damn who was on the photographs; he just wanted me to slit my own throat with a lie.

Digging my hands a little deeper into the crack between my thighs, I shrugged at them. “He went with me to my doctor’s appointment when I wasn’t doing well.”
Doing well
was vague enough so that it wasn’t a total lie. Keeping my face neutral, I kept my gaze steady on the team’s general manager. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

The Argentinian man settled onto his hip, his chair the closest to mine. “’Wrong’ is a bit subjective, don’t you think?”

“Sure.” I shrugged. “But in this case, I haven’t violated any terms of my contract or done anything I wouldn’t be upfront with my dad about.”

Well… I had told my dad hardly anything about my friendship with the German. Or anyone else really, but that was mainly because everyone would make a big deal over it and there wasn’t a deal to make, big or small.

A knock on the door prevented anyone from saying another word. Gardner instructed the person to come in, and I couldn’t say I was shocked to see Kulti. His eyes caught mine as he took the seat nearest the door. His face was expressionless, his broad shoulders loose. Still in his clothing from practice, track pants and a Pipers T-shirt, he leaned back against his chair and stared straight at Mr. Cordero. “What’s going on?”

The general manager reached for the tablet on Gardner’s desk and passed it to the German. “These images were released a couple of days ago.”

Kulti glanced at the screen for a second, and only a second before handing the device back with an impatient look. “What’s wrong with them?”