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“Miles invited me to practice tomorrow, so maybe I’ll see you there.”
After he continues not to say anything, I smile, giving him an easy out for our awkward encounter. He nods and drops my wrist.
I beeline to the elevator and stab at the button. I’m not sure what that was between us, but one thing is clear—I don’t want to know either.
Six
Chase
Lee and I toss the football back and forth while Coach Baker talks to the coaching staff before our drills and scrimmage.
I spotted Twyla in the stands as soon as I came out onto the field. Of course I did, because she’s like a goddamn beacon to me. I force myself not to look in her direction. I was a complete asswipe after our run-in yesterday in the lobby, but I was caught off guard, and when she asked where I was headed, I clammed up. It’s going to take me time to realize she’s staying across the hall from me, and we’ll have run-ins in the common areas.
My hands are up to catch Lee’s pass when Miles runs in front of me, intercepting the ball.
“What the hell was that?” I put my hands on my hips.
“I need to talk to you.” He tosses the ball back to Lee and holds his finger up in a one-minute gesture to him.
Oh great, what could this be about?
My eyebrows draw together. “What’s up?” Please tell me Twyla isn’t complaining to her big brother about how rude I was to her yesterday.
“I wanted to ask you to do me a favor.” He glances over my shoulder at Twyla sitting in the stands.
When I look back too, she looks uncomfortable. Her eyes bobble around, then concentrate on her phone.
“Depends.” I cross my arms.
“I’m wondering if you could take Twyla to the gala as your plus-one.” He smiles wide, showing off those prince-like pearly whites that make the fans put him in the boy-next-door category.
I just about choke on my tongue. Is Miles seriously asking me to take his sister on adate?
The Kingsmen hold a big fancy charity gala every year, and though I don’t hate doing charitable work, I do hate getting dressed in a penguin suit and parading around, talking to a bunch of people I don’t care for and taking pictures for the press.
I scowl. “You can’t take her?”
Miles shakes his head. “I already asked someone, otherwise I would.”
“What? You have some secret girlfriend no one knows about?” I arch an eyebrow.
He shakes his head again. “Just this girl I’ve gone on a few dates with. It’s not serious, but I don’t want to screw it up by uninviting her in case it could lead somewhere. I asked her before Twyla moved to town.”
“How do you know I don’t have a date?” I give him my best stare-down. They all assume, but I could be dating someone.
He laughs. “You never have a date. In fact, in all the years we’ve played together, I’ve never seen you date anyone.”
He has a point. I mostly do hookups and never with football fans because who needs the goddamn headache? And I’ve never brought a girl I’m hooking up with around the guys. It would give her the wrong impression—that what we were doing meant something.
“Why is it so important to you that she goes?”
He sighs, and concern washes over his features. “I don’t want her sitting at home by herself while everyone she knows in town is out having fun. She follows all of us on social media and she’ll see us in all the tagged photos. She’s had a crappy couple of months and I’m trying to help her get out of the funk.”
I run my hand over the back of my neck and look at the ground. The idea of Twyla sitting in that condo, upset and pining after her ex, makes me want to deflate a football with my hands. Still, I’m not convinced I’m the one to show her a good time.
But the image of Twyla crying at Brady’s engagement party resurfaces, and I already know my answer.
“Fine. I’ll do it. It’s not a real date though.”
