Page 67 of The Coach

I laugh lightly. “Um, I used to go by Cayla. With a ‘C’.”

“Holy shit,” Sonny says with a smile. “You’re the little girl he was smitten with.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Tanner groans, his head falling into his hands.

“Wow,” I reply. What a small world. “I’m dating my babysitter.”

“You can stop smiling at me like that,” Tanner says from the driver’s seat, his eyes on the road.

“What?”

“You’ve been looking at me since dinner,” he replies, grumbling under his breath.

Since we found out the truth of how our worlds crossed when we were young, his parents kept calling him the babysitter.

“You want some potatoes, babysitter? Are you sure you don’t want another roll, babysitter? Maybe little Cayla wants some peas?” It was all in good fun, and I laughed more than I have in years, but it seems to get under Tanner’s skin.

Which, I think, is precisely why they did it.

“Yeah, so? I like looking at you. You’re hot.” I turn in my seat, the wine still buzzing through my veins and keeping me warm. I definitely shouldn’t have had so much to drink. I had class in the morning, but Deb was both insistent and hard to say no to.

“You’re not looking at me because I’m hot. You’re looking at me because you’re trying to find your next joke.”

“Aw.” I pout at him. “I didn’t tease you that much.”

“You enjoyed my parents’ teasing far too much.”

“Well, maybe I did.” I lean close, wrapping my arm around his and laying my head on his shoulder. It’s not a great position, but I’m trying to butter him up.

I look up at him from my spot, and he glances down quickly before looking away. “I’m sorry I teased. I’ll stop.”

“Thank you,” he says, letting loose a sigh. “I can’t believe how far back our history intertwines.”

I think about that, how crazy it was that he used to babysit me. “How many times did you babysit me?”

He shrugs. “Not much. Maybe three or four times. It was just to learn a lesson before I left for college.”

“But it didn’t work. You said I was cute.”

“You were cute, from what I remember. You rolled your r’s when you talked and pretended your dog was your knight in shining armor.”

“Aw, Prince.” I sigh, thinking of the French bulldog we had growing up. “I miss him.”

I think about that for a moment before piping up, “Hey, when we live together, can we get a dog?”

He pulls up into his driveway, parking, and turning off the engine, then he looks at me in surprise.

“What?” I ask, still grasping his arm and gazing at him.

“You said when we live together.”

I frown, sitting upright in my seat again. “Yeah, is that bad?”

“It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged the possibility.”

“Well,” I start, glancing away. “After graduation, I thought that’s what we were thinking. Is that… not what we’re thinking?”

He shakes his head. “No, it is. I’m just happy to hear you say it.”

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