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“It’s never come up,” her cheeks flame red with embarrassment. “Most people don’t care enough to ask what I studied, and the rest assume that I studied communications or have a general education degree. And besides, I didn’t know until just a few months ago thatyouhave a degree in music performance.”
“Fair enough,” I grin, taking Sutton’s hand in mine as we walk together into the next exhibit room. Multiple large tanks line the walls and I stand Sutton in the middle of the room, with a vantage point for everything around us. “Tell me about the coral reef.”
My knowledge of coral reefs comes from an animated movie about a lost fish. I listen intently as Sutton tells me about every species of fish and coral in the tanks that line the room. We spend the next half hour walking slowly from one tank to the next before finally making our way to the bird and mammal exhibits.
“Do you want to do lunch here?” I ask as we near the end of the exhibits.
“I was thinking we could go back to the island for lunch? And then spend the rest of the day around the house? It’s not everyday that we have atrueday off like this.”
“Sounds good to me. Tacos for lunch?”
“Tacos are my love language. Yes. Tacos for lunch.”
“From the taco cart near the ferry terminal or the taqueria on the island?”
“If we get them on the island, we can take them home.”
Home.
I haven’t heard her refer to my house as home since she moved in, and that word settles in my chest, all bubbly and fullof hope. Hope that I’m almost afraid to feel, but I don’t want to question it.
“You’re right, we can take them home.”
With tacos acquired for lunch, we eat on the deck, sharing an order of chips and salsa between us, and two orders of tacos to share – al pastor and carne asada – as a breeze blows in off the water, making for the perfect afternoon. Made even more perfect with a nap on the deck, stretched out on the outdoor sofa with Sutton curled up beside me, nose in a book and fingers twirling lazily in my hair.
Until her phone rings.
“Hi Charlie,” Sutton answers the phone and her hand stills. “Yes, I was at the market today, why?”
I sit up at the sound of the anxiety in her voice. Her eyes are wide as she looks at me, listening to whatever Charlie Simpson, social media manager for The Olympians, has to say.
“An old friend from college works at the shop, she asked if I wanted to…” she pauses with a roll of her eyes and there’s an uncharacteristic bite in her voice as she continues. “No Charlie, of course I’m notenjoyingmy suspension…do they want me under house arrest?”
She pulls her phone away from her ear, tapping into the speakerphone.
“I’m sorry Charlie, I didn’t quite hear you. Can you repeat that?”
“ I’ve already called the shop and they agreed to take your picture down. We need you to keep a low profile. Like Max and Nico. Nothing too public, nothing that lands you on non-team-sanctioned social media, okay?”
“A low profile,” she repeats, eyes glued to mine. “Like Max.”
“Preferably. At least for the next few days. This is coming from ownership.”
“I know exactly who it’s coming from. Thank you Charlie.”
Sutton hangs up the phone and stares at it in her hand as if it’s going to take flight or something, and then it does. She tosses it into the grass with a laugh bordering on manic.
“Keep a low profile, Sutton. Be likeMax,Sutton. Don’t get yourself suspended Sutton, because we don’t know how to deal with having a woman on the coaching staff even though it’s been six years!” Her voice rises until she’s shouting into the backyard, voice echoing ever so slightly.
“AHHHH!” She balls her fists and lets out a frustrated scream before dropping her head against my shoulder with a defeated sigh.
“How’d that feel?” I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her close, gathering her against my chest as she curls her fists into my shirt.
“Better than I expected, honestly.”
“Is it time to revisit the ground rules?”
“Screw the ground rules.” She pulls away from me and starts to pace the length of the deck. “If I were anyone else, would we be talking about ground rules right now? Or ifyouwere anyone else? Max, we’ve been friends for six years and just because we’re dating, doesn’t mean that anything changes. We love each other. Okay, so there’s new lingo for the feelings that exist between us. They want me to act like you? Fine. I can do that. Screw the ground rules.”
