“I need to go,” Bryan said, swinging his legs around the bench. “We barely talked—” The coach cut me off with a shake of his head. “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said I’d meet you. Good luck, Miss Sawyer, but don’t contact me again.” My jaw dropped. I’d had interviews end abruptly before, but it was usually because I’d touched on a sore spot. I watched as Bryan crossed to his sleek sedan just as Grady Smith climbed out of his truck. And the glare Grady leveled at Bryan was one that would’ve had me swallowing my tongue.
