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I chuckle because I can see Travis doing that. “You only want what’s best for him.”
“He knows that, but he also dealt with a mom who was way too overprotective after Mitch died. I was so afraid of something happening to him, I became a bit smothering. I learned how to step back a bit but it’s hard. I want to fix all his problems because he’s had enough bad stuff to last a lifetime.”
My hand itches to take Danica’s and give it a squeeze but I don’t. I would have if we were alone, but with so many eyes on us, I’m not willing to have this look like anything more than an amiable chat.
Doesn’t mean I won’t offer something, though. “He might not want you to talk to the coach, but that doesn’t mean I can’t.” Her eyes flare. “I’ll watch the next practice, and if I see something out of sorts, I can talk to him about it on the sly.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Sure you can. All you have to do is invite me to watch his practice.”
Danica stares at me a long moment and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. Finally, she smiles. “Okay… I’d like that. And, of course, at your convenience. You’ve got a lot on your plate, so whenever you can—”
“Tomorrow,” I say.
She blinks. “Um… yeah. Tomorrow works.”
“Perfect,” I say, rapping my knuckles on the wooden top. My gaze shifts left and I notice an empty pool table. “Want to play a game?”
“I’m not that great,” she admits candidly. “Not sure I’d be much of a challenge.”
“We’ll play partners with Coen and Tillie. That will be an even matchup.”
The four of us play a few games of pool and I down a few more beers. “Livin’ on a Prayer” comes on the jukebox and somehow, the entire bar ends up singing it at the top of our lungs. Danica and I pretend our pool cue is a microphone.
Stevie brings out a big cake and fuck if she doesn’t almost set it on fire by attempting to light twenty-six candles. It takes me three tries to get them all out but only because I’m laughing so hard as the guys make lewd noises each time I try.
The cake is demolished in short order and I get distracted by a stray piece of frosting on the corner of Danica’s lip. I have to turn away and talk to someone else, and thankfully it’s gone by the time I look back.
Around eleven p.m., I feel a tug on my shirt sleeve and turn to find Danica there. She has her coat on, and while I haven’t spent the entire evening hanging with her, I find myself not wanting her to leave yet.
I keep that opinion to myself, though. “You heading out?”
“Yeah.” She wrinkles her nose. “I’m so lame but it’s a late night for me. I’ve said all my other goodbyes but saved the best for last.”
Okay, that feels good to hear. “I’m glad you came. Do you need an Uber to take you home?”
She shakes her head, hefting her purse over her shoulder. “No. I stopped at two beers.”
I had noticed she’d been drinking water for a while and that assures me she’s okay to drive. I know Danica is responsible and wouldn’t risk it.
“Then let me walk you to your car,” I say, turning to set my beer on a nearby table.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“I kind of do,” I say, offering her my arm. “Mitch would come back and straight-up poltergeist haunt me if I let you walk out of a bar by yourself at night.”
Danica laughs, as I expected, and links her arm through mine. Somehow I knew that a joke about Mitch wouldn’t be offensive but, on the contrary, understood. It says that I know how Mitch felt about his wife and I’m going to honor that.
We head out of the bar and she turns us west. “I’m about two blocks down that way in a paid lot.”
As we stroll along the sidewalk, I brace against the chill in the air. I never thought to grab my coat but it’s dipped down into the thirties. Is it my imagination or has Danica stepped in closer to me?
Is she cold and seeking warmth or is she worried that I’m cold?
“…starts at ten a.m.”
“I’m sorry… what?” I ask, having missed something.
