Is she mad at me?
And if so, is she going to be even madder if I do say yes? Or if I don’t?
“Say yes!” she repeats, her eyes wide, her arms thrown out.
“Yes,” I say, and she exhales into a slump.
“Yes, you do have something more important, or yes, you’ll be there?” Otto asks.
He sounds as confused as I am.
I shoot Kayla a panicked look, and she hangs her head. Then she looks up at me with an indulgent smile, like I’m simply too sweet and simple for this life, and she reaches for the phone.
“Hi, Mr. Hanninen. This is Kayla, Sean’s new wife. I think my dear, sweet husband is afraid of offending me by saying yes.”
I can hear Otto’s laugh. “That sounds like Sean.”
“He’ll absolutely be there tomorrow morning,” Kayla says, grabbing my hand over the console. “We’re so excited that you’re giving him this chance. Aren’t we, hon?”
I lean close … close enough to kiss her, honestly, which I’m tempted to do. “We sure are. Thanks, Otto. Thank you so much.”
Kayla puts the phone on speaker, but we keep our heads together.
“It was good to meet you, Kayla,” Otto says. “See you tomorrow, Sean.”
“See you then.”
“Bye, Otto!” Kayla adds.
And then the call ends.
And I’m in shock.
“SEAN O’SHANNAN!” Kayla squeals, throwing her arms around me. “This is so exciting! I’m calling the league. I’m going to postpone my trip.”
“What?” I ask, backing up. “Kayla, you can’t do that. They’re taking pictures of you with Aldridge tomorrow.”
“So? It’s a three-game road series. They can do it another day.”
I take her hand, holding it between us. “You know they won’t do that. They’re already planning the press release or media circus, or whatever. They’re not going to wait.”
“Sean—”
“Kayla.”
“It’s our honeymoon. I’m not going on it without you.”
Her eyes meet mine, but there’s no trace of teasing. She says it like it matters.
But it doesn’t matter the way I’m starting to want it too. She’s talking about the perception. What people will think of usnot being together. More than that, she probably doesn’t want to face her ex without me. I should have thought of that. How will it look to Aldridge if she shows up—freshly married—with a ring but not a husband?
Fake. That’s how it’ll look.
“You’re going, or I won’t do the tryout,” I say. She narrows her eyes, but I can see her relenting. “I’m sorry I won’t be there to run interference with Aldridge.”
“Pfft. I don’t care about that. I don’t need you to run interference. I wanted you there because I thought we’d have fun together.”
She smiles before getting out of the car in front of my place. I watch her as she bounces upstairs.
