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Poppy gave me a level glance. “Better decide quick. He’s mentally picking out the engagement ring.”
I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Since our mothers are a foot in front of us, you’ll have to imagine all the f-words coming out of my mouth right now, Poppy.”
Her laugh was loud, and Sheila gave us a sweet smile over her shoulder, which I returned. She probably wouldn’t be smiling as much if she had any idea.
A moment later, Ian approached our little group, first greeting my dad with a firm handshake. He nodded to the moms and Poppy. My pulse skipped, my heart churning as I waited. And then, and then his eyes came to rest on mine.
Why did time stop when that happened? Had it always done that, and I’d never noticed? And more than that, did it feel that way for him too?
The way my skin ignited was dangerous, just from that one slightly searching look. He didn’t look lost, or at least that wasn’t the right word. But there was a question buried so deeply inside his dark brown eyes that I felt a little breathless from wanting to answer it right then and there.
Are we okay?
Sometimes space was good and necessary. And sometimes, at moments like this, it dug its fingers into the first weakness it could find and, out of thin air, pried open a great big canyon that simply got more and more daunting the longer it stayed. This was Ian’s and my canyon, the tightrope we seemed to be balancing. I knew which direction I wanted to go in, but he clearly didn’t.
I couldn’t answer him. Not properly.
But I could smile. A real smile, with intention and purpose and motive. Different from the one Coach Scott gave me because I wanted to ease Ian’s mind, at least for now, until we could have a good moment to talk.
And it worked. His entire frame, so big and strong and capable, expanded on a deep, relieved breath.
“Interesting,” Poppy whispered beside me, more to herself than anything.
I froze. “What’s interesting?”
“Nothing.”
Bullshit. That easy-breezy tone didn’t fool me in the slightest, and I cut her a sideways look that had her laughing. “You know,” I said, “you always seem to be the one causing trouble between me and your brother.”
She sighed happily. “My life’s goal in a nutshell. I learned from Greer, and she is the best at it.”
“A thought that should terrify us all,” Ian said, now that he was standing beside the bleachers next to where I sat.
“Want to sit?” I asked him.
He shook his head, eyes trained on Sage. “I’d rather stand. I tend to fidget if I sit too long watching sports.”
I clucked my tongue. “Should’ve kept some of my handy paper clips, then. I might have to buy you some new ones.”
Ian’s mouth softened into a hint of a smile, and it was a good thing he was still watching the field because hell if I didn’t have to violently tear my gaze away from his mouth. I was so glad I did, though, because it allowed me to catch the moment that Sage saw her own little corner of the stands, and the smile that lit her face when she waved frantically over at us had me laying a hand over my heart while I fought a wave of tears.
Ian motioned her to the sideline, and he crouched down to say something to her. She listened intently, then gave him a fist bump and jogged off to meet her team so they could line up to start.
“What did you tell her?” I asked.
“I told her some of those boys might hold back because she’s a girl, but she better not do the same. Rip those kids’ flags off like they kicked puppies.” He jerked his chin toward the opposing team. “And that guy on the edge over there looks like he’s slow off the snap, so she should target that side every time.”
When my mom gaped open-mouthed at him, I had to smother my smile. My dad chuckled under his breath.
Sheila sighed. “Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t raise kids that are too competitive.”
Ian finally realized everyone was staring at him. He crossed his big arms defensively over his chest. “What? Was that bad?”
I reached out and laid my hand on his arm. The warmth of his bicep muscles had my skin tingling. “No,” I told him. “It’s perfect. Thank you. I aimed more for the do your best, I’m proud of you no matter what happens kind of pep talk, so straight savagery is just making sure we’re covering all bases.”
When he grimaced, I laughed, and it did just enough to soften the features on his harsh, handsome face that I wished I could hug him. Maybe kiss him. Possibly undress him and see how excellent his naked skin was for sharing body heat. Ian glanced over, and I schooled my features as best I could, but his brow did that slight furrowing thing again that made me realize maybe I hadn’t done such a good job.
Not like this was my fault. He was wearing that chocolate-brown shirt today, and it shouldn’t have looked so good—with his dark hair tied back off his face, the dark chocolate eyes and his neatly trimmed beard. Somehow it did, though, setting off the golden undertone to his skin that I’d always been jealous of. In the summers, he tanned so well while I had to slather on the SPF 50 and hope not to burn my fairer skin.
