Page 36 of Lucky Bastard


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“She said she doesn’t need any help.”

“And you took her word for it?”

“I made a scene, got all pissy when I walked in on a situation that wasn’t what it looked like with a volunteer. I’m sure your wife will retell the story.”

“What’s your version?” he asks.

“Mommy!” CJ yells, holding his arms out.

“Hey, sweet boy,” Aubrey greets us. “Cocky.” She grins, going on tiptoes to press her lips to Chance’s.

“Princess,” he whispers, and even I can hear the love in his tone.

“See you inside,” she tells him, then turns to look at me. “You got our girl all flustered.”

“Yeah.” I run my hands through my hair, not sure how much Emma has told her.

“Good. She needs someone to keep her on her toes. You’re a lucky bastard that you have her attention.” She grins like she just won the lottery and I have no idea what that’s all about.

She doesn’t give me the chance to comment before she’s strolling off toward the building, her son telling her all about daycare this morning.

“Well?” Chance asks once his wife and son have finally disappeared from view.

“I guess they slipped on some spilled water. He was lying over the top of her, and I walked in just as it happened. He helped her up, had his fucking hands all over her. He recognized me and asked for an autograph.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

I wince. “I might have told him to get his hands off my girl and I would oblige him.”

“Ouch. I know Emma, and I’m sure that didn’t go over well.”

“She was pissed, but I apologized and now she seems fine.”

“And?”

“Is that normal? She just accepted the apology without another thought. I was expecting to have to grovel or something.”

He laughs. “Maybe from a woman who wants to be the center of your attention. Not from a woman like Emma. She’s one of the good ones. She’s not unreasonable. You gave her a sincere apology and she accepted. Move on.”

“She friend-zoned me.”

He nods. “I’m guessing that wasn’t your intention?”

“Fuck, I have no idea.”

“You better figure it out.” He points to where Emma stands with Tony, the guy who was all over her on the floor. Her head’s tilted back as a laugh flows from her full, beautiful lips. My fists ball at my sides.

I want to go to them, to wrap my arms around her and show him that she’s off-limits, but she’s not. I force myself to climb into my SUV with a wave to Chance and drive away. He’s wearing an amused smile as he watches me, and I ignore him.

What is this woman doing to me?

It’s just after seven and I’ve already run five miles on my treadmill and ordered takeout. It was a Chinese food kind of night. Now here I am pacing the living room floor. I eye my keys on the table and I’m tempted to drive to her house to see her. That’s pushy even for me, and besides, what am I going to say? I can’t give you what you want, what you deserve, but I don’t want anyone else to either?

My phone rings and I fumble to grab it from the couch cushion, hoping it’s her, but I should have known better. In a way, it’s the next best thing. “Hey, Mom,” I answer.

“Landon, how are you? It’s been too long since we’ve talked.”

“I know.” Guilt washes over me. “Sorry, just been busy getting back into the groove of things this season.”

“How’s the team looking?” Dad asks. They have me on speaker and I smile. These two are the epitome of two peas in a pod.

“Great. The rookies are meshing well with the veterans, and I see good things in our future for the season.”

“How about you give me your non-PR prompted speech?” Dad chuckles.

“This time it’s the truth. Practices have been on point and I think we can take it to the Super Bowl this year.”

“What’s wrong?” Mom asks.

“Nothing.”

“Landon, don’t make me come there,” she warns in her mom's voice. I never could get anything past her.

“I met someone. At least, I think I did.”

“What do you mean you think you did?” Dad asks.

“She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. She’s one of those women who deserves everything.”

“Oh, so she’s not a cleat chaser?” Mom asks.

“No.” I laugh. “She’s not a cleat chaser.”

“Good. Where did you meet her?”

“Through the new kicking coach. She’s best friends with his wife.” I go on to tell them about her wearing a Mavericks shirt to training camp.

“I like her already. When do we get to meet her?”

“Slow your roll, momma bear,” I tease. “I don’t know that you ever will.”

“Why on earth not?” she asks.

“She’s friend-zoned me.”

“Of course, she did,” Mom agrees, like it’s the most reasonable thing she’s heard in her life.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look, Landon, you’re my son and I love you more than anything, but I’ve seen you in action. Everything comes easy to you, even women. This one, I assume, isn’t, and you don’t know how to deal with that. You keep yourself closed off. I understand how hard it must be to know if someone is being genuine with your career, but, honey, how are you going to know unless you try?”

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