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Morgan’s startled gaze met mine.
“I used to have the biggest crush in the world on Coach McDuff,” I told him, seeing his eyes widen more and more as I spoke. “He laughed at me.”
Morgan’s mouth fell open.
“He saw me there, red Kool-Aid dripping down my dress, and he laughed.” I swallowed, remembering as if it were yesterday. “It broke my heart.”
“You should’ve punched him in the junk,” Morgan murmured.
I snorted. “I couldn’t even look at him, Morgan. I don’t think you understand the intensity of my crush.”
And it definitely wasn’t past tense. I saw the moment he understood.
“You still like him?” he asked.
I nodded, and felt the first trickle of blood down the back of my throat, announcing an impending nose bleed.
I groaned and started to search through my purse for a tissue.
“Every single day I do something stupid and embarrassing in front of him,” I told Morgan. “But you know what?”
I pressed the Kleenex to my nose and hoped that it wouldn’t be a bad bleed.
Then again, with it being the middle of spring and the thousands of pollen particles floating through the air, I didn’t have high hopes.
“I went to school and did it all over again the next day.” I paused. “Ezra’s—Coach McDuff’s—entire senior year, I sat behind him in one of my classes. He never once noticed me.”
Morgan’s eyes turned sad.
“I had a crush before this,” he gestured at his body. “I haven’t had the courage to talk to her since.”
I leaned against the chain-link fence and contemplated what I was going to say next. “I know that you think that this is the end of the world…but maybe when you get older, you won’t think the same way. Kids…they can be cruel. I know that something Ezra found funny when he was eighteen isn’t something he finds funny now. He would not laugh if the same thing happened to me now as he would have back then. The same applies to you…kids will be kids…but eventually, they do grow up and get out of that stage where they’re all assholes.”
Morgan snorted. “I’m not sure as a teacher you’re allowed to call kids assholes.”
I shrugged. “If the shoe fits…”
Morgan sighed. “I don’t think my ride’s going to get here any time soon.”
I frowned. “I’d take you home, but I’m fairly sure your wheelchair isn’t going to fit into my Honda.”
Morgan’s lips twitched. “No, I don’t think it’s going to, either. But my grandma will be here…she will just be late.”
“Is that you trying to say that you should go back in and continue to watch the game?” I asked hopefully.
Morgan shrugged. “I guess it won’t hurt.”
I winked at him, then turned to gesture toward the field. “Let’s go.”Chapter 7Yuck Fou.
-Text from Raleigh to Ezra
Raleigh
I was a nervous wreck as I was waiting for Ezra to get to his truck after the game had finally finished.
I’d met his sister on the way back to the game, and she’d offered me a place to sit next to her and her husband.
I’d taken her up on the offer, but only after making sure that Morgan could wheel his wheelchair up next to us.
I was surprised to see that almost every single player that’d been involved in the earlier fiasco had been riding the bench, and even more surprised when Ezra’s sister had explained that Ezra had benched every single one of them—senior players included.
And, from what I’d gathered as I’d sat and watched, the players, as well as the parents, had not been happy.
Then again, after the way that the seniors had acted, I didn’t see the problem.
The first ‘look at that loser’ that had come out of their mouth had made me stiffen. The ‘leave him down there and let him piss himself in humiliation’ had been what had sparked my temper.
Those boys knew better. They knew better, yet they’d hurt Morgan anyway. And I was disappointed in them.
I was biting my lip and contemplating running away when I saw the distinctive shadow of Ezra making his way out of the fieldhouse.
He had a pair of khakis and a navy blue polo shirt on, and his gaze was directed solely on me.
I barely contained the urge to lick my lips.
When Ezra was in high school, he’d been a gorgeous boy, but now? Seeing him as an adult? Holy shit. He didn’t have anything special on, and honestly, he wasn’t wearing anything much nicer now than he had when he was younger…but he’d definitely filled out in all the best ways.
His biceps were bigger, his jaw was more chiseled, his beard…wow. And those lips of his? I wanted nothing more than to press my lips to his—then again, that had never changed.
“You ready to go grab something to eat?” he asked, sounding tired and worn out.
I tilted my head and studied him. “I’m ready…but you don’t look like you are.”
