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“I was planning on it. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” I say quickly and way too loud. Dustin gives me a strange look, and Nixon smirks, keeping his eyes downcast at his phone. “I just wasn’t sure. I hadn’t talked to you today.”
“Yeah, we’re stopping at the store to get stuff to make spaghetti. Didn’t Nixon tell you?”
“No.” I turn to look at my ex-best friend. “Nixon didn’t tell me.” He shrugs and blows me a kiss. Bastard.
“We should be there around five. You need anything while we’re out?” she asks. That’s Reese always thinking of others.
Just to see you. “No, I’m good. I’ll see you soon.”
“Sounds good. Bye,” she says, and ends the call.
“What the hell, Nix? You knew she was coming and didn’t tell me.”
“Nope. It’s not my job to be the go-between with the two of you.”
“What did I miss?” Dustin asks.
“Nothing, just that the girls are making dinner. Spaghetti.”
“Yeah. Tessa asked me what sounded good. I told her if she stopped and picked everything up, I’d pay her, so cough up some cash.” He holds his hand out. I dig into my pocket, and so does Dustin to give him some cash.
“Trey and Hank are out for the night. I guess they met a couple of girls at the party, and they’re all getting together tonight,” Dustin tells us.
“He needs to be careful. You don’t know who you can trust, and some of the cleat chasers are like vultures wanting to sink their teeth into a pro career.”
“True dat,” Dustin says, shoving another Dorito into his mouth.
“So, you ready for the Combine?” Dustin asks us. He’s not declaring for the draft. He doesn’t love the game like we do. He likes it, and he’s a damn good player, but it’s not in his blood like Nixon’s, Hank’s, and mine.
We spend the next hour while we wait for Tessa and Reese to get here talking about the Combine and the upcoming draft. I’m nervous as hell but excited at the same time. This has always been my dream, and it’s so close that I can taste it.
When the front door opens, I stand to help, as do Nixon and Dustin. We take the bags from their hands. “Are there more?” I ask Reese.
She smiles up at me. Her green eyes are bright and don’t hold a single worry or regret. “Nope, this is it. However, you can help us with salad prep.” She hip checks me and laughs all the way to the kitchen.
“You got a little something…” Nixon taps at his chin. “That’s your best friend, you know?” he snarks.
“Damn right,” I say as I follow the path Reese just took to the kitchen. I do as I’m told and start dicing a tomato for the salad. The five of us talk and laugh, as we always have. Nothing seems off between us. Reese laughs and smiles. She sits next to me at dinner and swats at my hand when I try to steal her breadstick.
“Hands off, Reeves,” she says, swatting at me with her fork.
With each passing minute, my anxiety begins to fade, and we’re just us. Just Cooper and Reese, two best friends hanging out with a group of mutual friends. It’s exactly what I needed, and nothing like I was expecting. It gives me hope that nothing will ever change between the two of us. Not time, not distance, and not other people.
We will always be Cooper and Reese.Chapter 18Reese“Do you have to go?” Hunter asks. We’re sitting in the theatre waiting for our movie to start. We’ve been casually seeing each other since girls’ night a few weeks ago. If you can call it girls’ night since Tessa bailed on me. We have dinner at least once a week, and this is the second time he’s brought me to the movies.
It’s been nice to have someone other than Cooper’s friends—well, I guess they are my friends too, but Hunter, I met him all on my own. Sure, it was at a party at the house, but still, he introduced himself, and then that night at the bar, he drove me home and asked for my number. Four days later, he called, asking me to dinner that weekend. I accepted. Cooper wasn’t impressed. He didn’t say a word, but his actions told me his true feelings. He’s never going to stop worrying and protecting me. That’s what best friends who think of you as a little sister do.
“Yes, I have to go. Cooper’s family. He’s been working toward this his entire life. My parents and his are going to be there too.”
“Does that interest you? Watching the Combine?”
“Yes.” I shrug. “I’ve always loved football.”
“I wasn’t sure if it was because Cooper played or if you shared the love for the sport.” He smiles, and it’s warm and inviting. He’s not jealous of Cooper; he really is just trying to understand me and my likes.
