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Face Off With Fate

Page 101

by Marie Maravilla

“Yeah.” I swiped my hand along my chin, stomach tightening at the idea of it getting messier than it already was. “I know.”

“I’m happy for you. Both of you.” She watched the field and nodded. Something almost wistful settled back into the line of her mouth. “I hope one day it happens to me.”

Down on the mound, José threw a strike and pumped his fist. Her jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

“What about Miguel?” I asked.

Her head whipped to the side, pink back on her cheeks, deeper this time. “That’s not…I didn’t say⁠—”

I shrugged, biting back my smirk. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s complicated.”

My brow shot up. Her excuse rivaled my own pathetic ones. “Fake dating someone while wanting to be with her best friend, who is also your PR manager, and you might lose your career over it—complicated?”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, so maybe complicated isn’t the right word for it.”

I smiled at her, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “So, what is the word for it?”

“Scary?” She pulled at a thread on the hem of her shorts. “Mostly because I don’t…I don’t know how to…I’m not sure he thinks of me that way.” She tossed a hand in the air. “And I was supposed to use this whole thing as a way of getting better at dating since I’ve never been in a relationship. I mean, you were my first date, and that wasn’t even⁠—”

“Wait.” I blinked a few times. “I was your first date? We never should have done that.”

She winced.

“I just mean, I was a shitty first date. Talked about Graciella the whole time.” I blew out a puff of air. “Don’t count that one. As far as anyone’s concerned, you’ve never been on a date.” I took a drink to stop myself from blurting out more.

Itzel groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “No. That sounds worse. What twenty-six-year-old has never been on a date?” She pointed a finger at me, eyes narrowing. “No, I’m telling people I went on a date with a Stanley Cup-winning coach. They don’t need to know it kind of sucked, and you’re not my type.” Her hands shot to her mouth, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m so sorry. That was not kind.”

The words came out muffled.

“It’s fine, Itzel.” I smiled. “Have you said anything to him? Let him know you exist?”

It was meant to be a joke, but the way she gnawed on her lip…

“Itzel.”

“I’m shy,” she said, a little defensively, glaring.

“Well, if you don’t want to be twenty-seven and never have been on a real date with anyone, then maybe you should tell him you like him.”

She exhaled through her nose, facing me full on.

“Maybe you should take your own advice.”

The crack of a bat punctuated her statement, a double play causing the crowd to jump around us. Like they were cheering in agreement. Like they all knew I’d been a bitch about locking Graciella down. Letting excuses get between me and telling her she was mine.

I reached for my phone and pulled up our messages, thumbs hovering for half a second. I typed before I could talk myself out of it.

Me:

Fireworks show tonight. Meet me in the stairwell at the end of the third base concourse. Section 114. Nine o’clock.

THIRTY-THREE

GRACIELLA

“DEFLECTION THROUGH HUMOR…BASICALLY MY FIRST LANGUAGE.”