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“Right, yes. But I’ll see you after the game tomorrow, yeah?” I work hard to keep my nerves at bay as I await her answer.
She exaggeratedly sighs before rolling her eyes. “Yes, I suppose that can be arranged,” she huffs before her lips pull up into a grin.
And my answering smile cannot be stopped.
“Can I get your number? You know, so I can text you when I’m done,” I ask, not sure I can last until late tomorrow to talk to her.
Lucy hesitates for a second before pulling her phone from her pocket. “Sure, that makes life easier.”
We exchange numbers and then say our goodbyes, agreeing once more to meet up the next day. When I finally jump in my truck, I have thirteen minutes to make the twelve-minute drive.Talk about cutting it close.I’ve never been fined once in my NFL career, but for Lucy, I don’t mind risking it.
After reviewing opposition tapes, we talk strategy, and I’m mentally drained by the time I get home. I practically fall into bed fully clothed, but can I sleep? No. My phone is screaming at me to pick it up and text Lucy. Okay, maybe it’s my brain and not my phone that’s wanting that to happen. But either way, I give in, pulling up her number to begin.
Wes: Thank you again for lunch. Hope your session went well
I toss and turn for thirty minutes waiting for a response before cursing myself and giving up. I’m almost asleep when the bell chimes, signaling I have a text. My eyes shoot open, and I grab my phone, bringing the screen to life…and find nothing. No message. No call. Not even an email to explain the tone.What the fuck is wrong with me?I’m losing my mind over this girl. Dropping the phone back to the bed, I smother myself with a pillow and yell out in frustration just as the noise sounds again, only louder this time. I blow out a breath but pick it up anyway, fully prepared to find the screen blank once more. Only it’s not.
Lucy: Thank you. You’ll be pleased to know my head is bruise free. I managed to stay awake
Since we’ve already established I’m not playing hard to get, I text her back immediately.
Wes: Phew! I’ve been worried
Lucy: Your concern is much appreciated :) Did you make it to your team meeting on time?
Wes: I did.Just. But even if I was late, it would have been worth it
The three dots appear and then disappear a few times, but it’s not unexpected. It hasn’t escaped my attention that she’s not a huge fan of me talking about us in any kind of positive light. Or talking about an “us” in general. If only I knew why. Yes, I could very well ask her, but I know we’re not in the right place for her to want to share that just yet. But I’m hopeful we’ll get there.
The dots stop, and I’m almost sure she’s not going to reply when a text comes through.
Lucy: I’m glad you made it all the same. I’m going to head off to bed. Hope you have a good sleep ahead of the game tomorrow
I will now.
Wes: Thank you. See you soon. Goodnight, Lucy
Lucy: Goodnight
My heart pounds in my chest, and all we’re doing is texting. What is it about this girl that has me twisted in knots? And where exactly do we go from here?
Chapter Five
Lucy
SummerandIpushthrough the crowd to get to our seats not long before the game begins. We’re running late, which is not uncommon when the two of us get talking, but it’s annoying all the same.
“Logan called to say he’s in Heartwood to see Liam this weekend,” Summer says as we sit down, talking about her childhood best friend and the little brother he only recently found out existed. “I tried to convince him to come to the game but he said it’s too hectic and…” Something gets her attention and she trails off mid-sentence.
When my gaze follows hers, I notice the teams are already warming up, so when she waves toward the field, I know she’s found Dylan. This’ll be the first time I’ve seen him play in the pros, and I’m pretty damn excited about it…and proud. My little bro. The annoying little shit I used to boss around. The guy that became one of my best friends and my protector. I’ve always expected big things from him, and he one hundred percent delivered.
“Did you find him, or did he find you?” I ask Summer as I watch Dylan run in our direction.
She bites her lip to hide her grin, and I know the answer. I swear he has a built-in radar when it comes to her. I mean, I know he arranged our seats, so he probably has the numbers memorized, but it’s also safe to assume his eyes have been scanning the stadium since he stepped out onto the field.
“I’m ready for you to be my sister, Summer,” I joke because it freaks her out.
She blushes while shaking her head. “We have plenty of time for that. We don’t need to rush.”
