“Do you guys always save your food for each other?” Nick asks.
“Yup,” Blake says without looking up from his food.
Nick and Poppy exchange a smile.
“So what do you guys think of Coach Tremblay?” Leo asks.
“I like him,” Nick says. “He knows his stuff. Really knowledgeable about plays.”
“Yeah, he’s cool,” Travis says.
“I thought your coach’s name was Sawyer?” I ask.
“Coach Tremblay is the new assistant coach for the team,” Blake says.
“And he’s really hot,” Anna says. “He was the tall, younger guy standing behind the Hollis U bench. He was wearing a gray suit.”
“Oh,” I say when I remember seeing him during the game. She’s right. He’s really handsome.
Travis narrows his gaze at her, but the corner of his mouth is twitching like he’s trying not to smile.
Anna just smiles and drops a quick kiss on Travis’s mouth. “You know I only have eyes for you.”
Travis’s mouth slants up in a half-smile.
“He’s like thirty-five,” Nick says. “That’s notthatyoung.”
His twin sister rolls her eyes. “Yes, it is. Especially when the other assistant coach and your head coach are both in their late fifties,” Anna says.
Nick shrugs. He inhales the hashbrowns on his plate, then guzzles the orange juice he ordered. “Oh hey, that reminds me. We have that fancy dinner next weekend that Coach Sawyer is hosting to welcome Coach Tremblay. Attendance is mandatory. And we all have to wear suits. No excuses.”
The guys all nod along.
Nick wiggles his eyebrows at Poppy. “And you have to wear something sexy.”
Poppy chuckles. “Oh, really?”
“Yup. Those are the rules, hot tutor.”
She rolls her eyes, but she grabs his face and kisses him.
“Fancy dinner? That sounds fun,” I say.
“Yeah, it’s at some high-end French restaurant in Cherry Creek,” Nick says. “Coach Sawyer said we can all bring a date if we want.”
Travis and Leo start talking about their upcoming stretch of away games and pull Nick into the conversation.
“So, um, what are you up to next weekend?” Blake asks me as he sets his fork on his empty plate.
I turn to him, about to answer when my phone rings. When I see it’s my mom calling me, I instantly deflate.
“What’s wrong?” Blake asks.
“Nothing, it’s just…My mom keeps calling me.”
I silence the call, so I’m not the annoying person at the table who lets their phone ring in the middle of a meal.
“Is something going on with her?” he asks.
