Page 13 of Play For Keeps

I take my wine to my couch and sit with my feet tucked underneath me, looking around the tiny apartment that I rented sight unseen. It’s not perfect, but it’s the nicest space I could find on short notice.

The living room has a big window that looks out on the park across the street, with a playground that Birdie loves. A coffee table sits in front of the couch, piled with my romance books and a vase of flowers that makes the room look a little more lived in. The walls are a pale grey, and I’ve hung a few of my favorite photos of Birdie. The kitchen is small, but clean. There’s a dishwasher, a small pantry, and white cabinets with only a few noticeable nicks and scratches. It’s homey, and comfortable. Mostly, I love it because it is ours.

Settling back into the worn couch cushions, I pick up my phone to check the time and notice an unread text from Jake.

My stupid heart skips. Don’t be silly, I tell myself. I don’t even know him. But I swipe the phone to life so fast you would think it caught fire.

Jake: Just a friendly text. Don’t go overthinking this. :) It was good to see you tonight.

I read the message at least 20 more times, not sure how to respond. I need to be careful he doesn’t get the wrong idea. Friends is all we can be and even that feels reckless. So, I like the text and close out the screen before I’m tempted to write something back.

I’m sure Jake is a great guy, but I’m not about to put my heart, or Birdie’s, on the line to find out.

JAKE

I follow Grayson, Holden, Tucker, and our buddy Beckett to a booth in the corner of our favorite Mexican restaurant, Cocina Caliente. We’re all wiped after a killer ride today, not to mention starving. The conditions were perfect for a downhill banger, and we spent longer on the trails than we had planned. If I had my way, I’d be out riding every day, but with Gran’s move coming up this weekend and being down a few guys at work, I’ve been busy.

We all slide into the booth, which feels way too fucking small for five big dudes. Our waitress stops by our table, and we immediately put in our orders: burgers and fries all around, and Tuck orders an extra side of fried pickles because the man is a human garbage disposal. It’s gross.

“Stop rubbing your thigh against mine, Gray, you’re not my type,” Tucker grumbles, trying to take up more space in the packed booth.

“You wish, buddy,” Gray says. “You want a thigh rub, I think Holden’s your guy. Right, Holdey?”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Holden groans.

“An idiot who’s starving. I worked up an appetite out there.” Grayson rubs his stomach. “I was feeling good on the bike today. Grandpa Jake, on the other hand, was slowing us down. Hell, I saw a 10-year-old peddling harder than Matthews.”

“Fuck off,” I grumble.

“What’s with your grumpy ass today?” Grayson asks, struggling to take off his jacket.

“Your face,” I grumble.

Holden cracks up. “That the best you can come up with? You seem hangry, Jakey. Do you want me to ask the waitress to bring you a little snack plate? Maybe a glass of warm milk?”

“Would you guys fuck off already? Shit.”

Thankfully, our waitress doesn’t take long. She’s soon back with our orders, and we all dig in as soon as she sets the plates down on the table.

Beckett looks at me in between bites. “Seriously, man, is everything okay? You seem stressed. Burgers with the boys is not the place for mopers.”

“I’m fine,” I reply.

“You’re not acting like it,” Grayson chimes in. “You’ve barely said 10 words all day and you’ve had your face in that fucking phone. Does this have something to do with the girl at the beach? Whatever happened with that? Did you make a move?”

I inhale a long, hard breath. It’s been four days since I ran into Everly and Birdie at the ice cream place, and I haven’t heard from her since. I sent her a text, which she didn’t respond to—a like doesn’t count in my books, that’s code for, “I don’t want to talk to you, but I’m being polite about it.” It feels like Everly is making it crystal clear that she is not interested in even a friendship with me.

“Yeah, we talked. Then I ran into her a few days ago, and she shut me down. She has a kid. She told me she needs to focus on her.”

“Woah, Daddy Jake” Tucker says, shoving a French fry in his mouth. “I didn’t see that one coming.”

“You can take it easy with the Daddy stuff,” I say, holding my hands up. ”I’ve talked to her twice.”

I consider telling them that Everly is several years older than me but decide against it. I can imagine what the guys would have to say about that. It doesn’t matter to me anyways. I don’t give a shit that she’s older. I just really wish she would get in touch. Maybe I blew it. Maybe I’ll never hear from her. It’s fucking messing with my mind.

“I’ll tell you what I think you should do,” Tucker says, leaning over the table.

“Oh, hell no,” Holden interrupts. “Literally nobody should take dating advice from you.”

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