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Turning away from the image of water streaming off Natalie’s perfect curves, I wade deeper into the water.
I’m pretty sure this is an adults-only part of the beach, but that doesn’t mean I want to walk out with a half chub tenting my shorts. Especially with the way wet fabric clings to everything.
Something bright catches my attention on the surface of the water.
I reach out, snagging the white sunglasses.
My fingers twist around the earpiece.
Natalie said she had a rehearsal dinner tonight, same as me, so that means she’s here through tomorrow night at least.
I put the glasses on, dimming the sunlight reflecting off the water, and then I stretch out, floating on my back.
If I can’t find her again tonight, I’ll find my Green Eyes tomorrow.
Chapter 18
Natalie
As Heather practiceswalking up and down the aisle, I pull out my phone.
There’s no wedding party. Which I think is cool, because why bother? But I’m sure Heather chose it because she wanted all the attention on her. So I have nothing better to do than search online for Luke Anders.
Sure enough, his cocky grin stares back at me from my screen.
It’s not that I didn’t believe him, but a girl has to be sure.
I click on the top link, which takes me to the Sleet home page, and pull up his bio.
Veteran on the team. Starter.
“Let’s just start with one team, yeah?” Dad whispers as he reads over my shoulder.
I click back to the home page.
“Just some friendly research.” I turn my phone off and set it on my lap.
I felt a little weird when Luke said he played for the Minnesota Sleet. And then, when he confirmed he lived in Minnesota, I started to feel a little more weird.
I didn’t lie.
I do live in Naperville. I’ve spent most of my life in Illinois.
But I didn’t mention that my dad and I, and a group of Wag Corp employees, are moving to Minnesota before the end of the year. Because Dad has decided to finally invest in the one thing he’s always dreamed of.
Professional sports.
Sitting here next to my dad, I send up a silent thank-you for the fact that he loves football above any other sport. Because it will be awkward enough to tell Luke my dad is about to buy Minnesota’s professional football team, the Biters. I can’t even imagine how uncomfortable it would be if my dad was buying his team.
But I’ll wait to tell him.
There’s no need to tell Luke I’ll be moving to his metro area unless we’re somehow still in contact when I make the move.
Until then, why make it weird?
Dad leans into my side again. “I did have a nice chat with the owner the other day.”
“Which owner?” I whisper back, thinking of the couple that currently owns the Biters.
