Her forehead crinkled and she patted his leg in comfort. "After spending time with you, I’m not surprised that you gave it all away to help others. You’re a good man."
Whether or not he succeeded, he tried to be his best self. "Football contracts aren’t guaranteed. And I’m already thirty. I know some guys are playing until their late thirties or early forties, but they seem to be the exception, not the rule. One injury could end it all. This contract might be my last one. So the money needs to last as long and stretch as far as it can. I can’t help out like I was able to do before, and some people have a hard time accepting that."
Her gaze shimmered with understanding. "Like Mario."
"Exactly. But not just Mario. It’s a little lonely when people who were supposed to be friends show that you were nothing more than a means to an end for them."
She lifted her hand to his face and gently traced a path from his temple to his chin. Then she tilted her head up and lightly kissed his jaw. "I’m sorry. I’m sure that makes it hard to trust people. When things like with Mario happen it hurts, but it also shows you the ones you can count on, who will always be there. If you focus on that, it could make the hurt, well, hurt less."
The gesture of comfort, that she'd felt the need to reassure him, moved him deeply. Xavier leaned down slowly, watching her eyes, seeing himself in the amber and gold. He paused for a moment, drawing in her scent, watching her lips part and hearing her breath catch. Moving achingly slow, he touched his lips to hers.
She wrapped her arms around him, and warmth spread through him, thawing the cold, untouched parts of his soul.
After a long moment, Ashley pulled back, her gaze searching his face. "You look so weary. Can I do anything to help?"
He drew her back against him. "You already are."
CHAPTER NINE
A football sailed over her workstation.
Ashley rose from stowing her bag under the counter and turned around.
Sure enough, Tyson threw a perfect spiral to Dion three stations away. Then Dion lobbed it to Xavier. Her partner half-dived across their workstation's counter to make the catch, then he tossed it to Everson in the crowd.
Round two of the competition nearly underway, a flurry of activity unfolded around them with people unloading supplies, producers rushing around and in the thick of it all, the camera crew was in position, documenting every step.
Brow raised, she turned away from the football antics and listened as the baking trash talk continued behind her.
She and Xavier had spent hours in the kitchen the day before, baking batches of cookies and cupcakes and he'd even attempted a two-layer cake all on his own. She'd felt pretty confident. But yesterday's confidence was today's worry. Good enough no longer good enough. Not when her very last backup plan had failed.
She hadn't gotten the loan.
The thought repeated itself over and over again. Throughout lunch with her sister, and the ride to the Convention Center, and greeting Xavier and members of the network.
A smile couldn't always fool someone into feeling better. She would know. She'd worn a fake smile for hours now, and her insides still felt hollow and raw.
A loud crash jolted her. She spun around. A pie plate, a rolling pin, and various other supplies were scattered across the floor, next to that damn football.
Frustration boiled over.
Hands on her hips, she turned. And four pairs of apologetic eyes watched her from lowered gazes. She stalked closer as anger boiled. But then she caught sight of the camera. Time to hide even more emotion. Pasting on a smile, she bent to retrieve the rolling pin and infused as much sugar into her voice as possible. "Guys, if you're going to toss the football, then I think I'll need some protectors like the guys that protect the quarterback. What are they called? The offensive line, right?"
"You got it." Tyson nodded with an approving smile. "You need an O-line? I'll volunteer. Hey, Xavier, switch teams with me."
The audience laughed.
Blackstone's mouth twisted into a grimace as he stood at his station. "We all need an O-line, apparently. But I need even more than that. Could you please attempt to take this seriously? This isn't a football field. It's a baking competition."
Tyson's smile fell away from his face. Shoulders slumped, he handed the ball to Everson and returned to his place behind his station. "Sorry, man."
Ashley gathered up the items from the floor and brought them to the sink. Xavier joined her. She turned on the tap, and took a moment to choose her words. "I can't believe I'm actually on Blackstone's side for something, but he's right. With ovens and sharp objects and people who can get hurt, playing around and diving for a ball isn't smart. But beyond that, even if this competition isn't important to you guys, to some of us, it's everything. You need to take this seriously."
Xavier took the rolling pin from her and swiped a towel over it. "The competition hasn't started yet. We're just having fun. We're allowed to have fun, you know. It's encouraged. You need to lighten up."
Anger flashed again, like lightning, hot and fast. "You should be helping me get ready, not playing toss the pigskin. This is why I always hated group projects in school. Most of the group would goof off, and there would be one person stuck doing all the work."
"Hey. That's not fair. I've been working hard too. I did help with set up, but it's done. Or it was until those things fell on the floor. It's okay to relax for a few minutes and let off a little steam." He jerked his head toward the cameras. "This is supposed to be entertainment."
"Then maybe you should switch over solely
