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Scanning the room, I see Isla’s dark curls and start through the maze of people waiting for their players to come out.
“Hey, hotshot,” she yells, jumping into my arms for a big hug. “Way to make a debut.”
“Thanks, friend,” I say, squeezing her and lifting my head to wink at Sadie, who’s trying to climb me like a tree.
“Great game, Uncle Zan!”
“Thanks, kiddo,” I tell her, swapping her for her mom.
“You won it,” she says loudly in my ear.
“Ah, team effort,” I say.
“Whatever,” Sadie says with an eye roll. I place her down on her feet, and a hand lands on my shoulder.
“That was a perfect fake, Zander.” I turn to Willa, her voice always sounding shy when she’s speaking to me. Only with me. With everyone else, she’s confident, direct, but still kind and playful.
That’s not the Willa I get.
I hate it and love it all the same. Because I’m a little in love with her and hate that I can’t just take what feels like it should already be mine.
“Thank you,” I say, wrapping her in a hug as well. I inhale her, breathe her deep into my lungs. “Thanks for being here.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” she tells me, her arms wrapping around my shoulders. I lift her slightly off her feet and hear the small gasp she makes. “I’m so proud of you.”
Giving her a final squeeze, I set her feet back on the floor but keep one arm casually around her shoulders. I’m not ready to let go. Everything about Willa Cole works me up, forcing me to remind myself of who she is and why I can’t have her the way I want.
Coach’s daughter.
Best friend’s sister.
A woman who deserves more than a stubborn man, who refuses to compromise just now.
“Thank you,” I repeat, dropping my arm and taking a step back.
“Kit asked me to congratulate you. Your friend didn’t stay, either,” she says, her berry-stained lips turning into a half-smile. “We tried.”
“Not surprising,” I admit. Looking to Isla, I ask, “What did you think of him?”
“He seemed nice, but you should be asking Willa. They were thick as thieves.”
“Oh, really?” I ask Willa, raising a brow at her. An unfamiliar feeling prickles as it comes to life in my chest. Jealousy maybe?
“He was fun,” she says, shrugging, as she turns her face downward so I can’t gauge the expression she wears under her blushing cheeks.
Fun isn’t the first word that comes to mind when I think of Damian March. Mysterious, maybe. Quiet and direct? Definitely. Insanely sexy with his dark looks and sly smiles, for sure.
We started chatting through an exclusive online app at a time we were both looking for connections. He wanted to meet people of a like mind here in Seattle before he relocated, while I was desperate for male interaction that wasn’t heterosexual. There have been some sexual escapades. That type of vulnerable intimacy took months of building up trust.
I don’t work as hard as I do to throw it away for a little virtual booty call. And Damian… well, he’s even more reserved with his sex life.
Damian’s very much aware of Willa Cole and who she is to me. He made a point of orbiting her on campus, keeping an eye on her for me, in a sense. Any day he saw her, he’d relay to me what she was doing, what she wore, who she was with. It made me less lonely, less homesick.
Probably made me more of a creep. But I am what I am.
It’s not a shock that Damian would have taken the opportunity to get to know Willa tonight. Although it’s surprising that Willa is responding like she has a new crush. Like how she has always responded to me.
I’m not at all sure how I feel about this development.
