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“Yeah. She wanted to know if you were coming to the game.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“That you were.” Christine made a face. “She did that thing where she presses her lips together and pretends she doesn’t care.”

I laughed. “I know the look.”

Audrey and I had developed something resembling a civil relationship over the past few months.

She still wasn’t my biggest fan, and I suspected she never would be. But she’d stopped making pointed comments about my age, and she no longer called Greyson her husband. She’d come to accept that I wasn’t going anywhere.

Especially after Greyson made it clear that he was serious about me. And after I announced that I’d be moving to Louisville to attend college.

“Mom likes you,” Christine said.

I gave her a skeptical look. “Christine.”

“Okay, maybe likes is too strong.” She grinned. “But she doesn’t hate you. And she knows you’re important to dad and me.”

I reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thanks, sweetie.”

Christine and I had become close over the past six months.

We texted regularly, sometimes about school, sometimes about music or movies, and sometimes just to send each other ridiculous memes. She’d even started asking me for help with her math homework.

Which was a little funny, considering that her father could afford to hire the best tutors in the country.

But I loved helping her because it meant that she trusted me. Her grades had started improving, too.

Greyson was making a real effort to spend more time with her, even during football season. He still worked ridiculous hours, but he’d gotten better at making sure Christine knew she was a priority and she seemed happier.

Not perfect, of course. She was still sixteen.

There was plenty of eye-rolling and attitude to go around. But she was a good kid, and I was grateful that she’d made room for me in her life.

“Touchdown!” Angela’s shout startled me.

I whipped my head toward the field just in time to see a Bobcats player celebrating in the end zone. The suite erupted into cheers.

Christine jumped to her feet, nearly spilling her nachos. “Yes!”

I stood too, laughing as Angela grabbed my arm. On the sideline, Greyson was clapping one of his players on the shoulder. And then, as if he could feel me watching him, he glanced toward the suites.

I knew he couldn’t possibly see me through the glass from that distance. But I waved anyway.

Because I was ridiculous. And because I loved him.

The Bobcats won. Which meant Greyson was in an exceptionally good mood when we finally met him after the game.

Well, exceptionally good for Greyson.

He was still scowling at something one of his assistants said as he walked toward us, but the expression disappeared the moment he spotted me.

“Hey, Starlight.”

My heart fluttered. He’d been calling me that for six months, and it still did something to me every single time.

“Hey, Coach.”