Page 83 of Waiting for Her

“So, you kind of broke my heart,” Izaak says next to me, chest heaving after just finishing practice on Monday afternoon.

“Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“You stole the girl!” he says, voice teasing.

“She was never available to steal,” I admit, not even remotely trying to wipe away the smile that is a permanent fixture on my face once again.

“Yeah, I kind of figured. You two have known each other a long time, huh?”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “What do you know about it?”

He grins. “Probably more than you’d like me to know.”

I shake my head and scrub a hand over my face, then cross my arms, clipboard tucked under my armpit.

“We getting into a therapy session now?”

“Wanna lay down on the couch? I’m a good listener.”

“Such a smartass.”

“Wait. How’d you know we were together?” I ask, feeling a small sense of unease twinge in my stomach.

He shrugs. “Everyone knows.”

That can’t be good.

I want to ask him more but in the middle of practice isn’t the right time.

I blow my whistle three times and the team jogs over.

“Good practice, guys. Two weeks in and you’re looking great. There’s always room for improvement and I don’t want you to become lazy, thinking that since I said you’re looking great you can just give up. Now’s the time to keep at it. Classes start shortly. I won’t have you slacking off on your work or putting more focus on what happens on this field than in your classes.”

A few guys good naturedly roll their eyes, but they’re mostly all smart enough to know they’re here to go to school and play ball, in that order.

“What about Ms. Bri, Coach? Will she still be hanging around? I think I could use some special one-on-one tutoring time off the field! Or on… whatever works for me.” Tyler, the starting center, hollers followed quickly by a slew of oohs and jabs in his direction.

I chance a glance in Bri’s direction and am not surprised in the least to see she’s shaking her head, not bothered by his remarks.

“That’s your warning, Tyler. I hear shit like that again and don’t think I won’t bench you.” I send what I hope is a glare in his direction, but really, I know he’s a decent guy and there was nothing but teasing behind his statement. At least, there better have been. Despite my initial fears, the entire team has been welcoming to Bri. After the first day of her on the field, interviewing anyone who had a few moments to give her whether they were on my list or not, the team started treating her like she was one of us.

“Next week we’ll have another guest. A photographer fromSIwill be here to get some shots for Bri’s article. She’s already talked over with Drew what she’s looking for. We’ll have a team shoot but a lot of them will be candid, and I don’t want anyone thinking it’s their time to show off or try to gain the spotlight. This article is about the team, not any one person. Wipe those smirks off your faces—it’s not about me, either.”

One more glance at Bri, but this one makes me want to shut down our team meeting and take her in my arms, and well… the list is pretty extensive of what I want to do to her. Her smile is wistful as a few wisps of hair kiss her cheeks, a hint of pink covering them from a day in the sun. But it’s the shade of green her eyes have returned to that has my knees almost buckling. A color so bright, like the color of emeralds. When we first locked eyes again at the bar, one of the first things I noticed was that the color in her eyes was dismal compared to the brightness I had gotten so used to looking into. Knowing that dazzling sparkle is back, and I’m a part of it, makes me feel like I could pretty much accomplish any challenge someone put me up to.

The level of desire I have for this woman didn’t evaporate over time, or even dull. It only bloomed and flourished.

Two hours later, I’m standing at Bri’s doorstep, taking a page out of my dad’s handbook. My dad decided to recreate their first date several years ago—it just so happened to be the same night as my first date with Bri. He looked like a giant weirdo, but it worked, and while I’m not going tothatextreme, dressing up like I did on our first date, I am planning on reminding her where it all began.

Given our schedules—or mine, rather—it’s not like either of us have time for as much dating as I’d really like so I’m going to have to make do with what I have available to me.

A swift rapt of my knuckles on her door and it opens instantly.

“Excited?” I ask teasingly, but more words instantly fail me as I take in the beauty before me.

“Holy fuck,” I rasp, pressing a hand to my heart to make sure it didn’t beat right out of my chest.

The little black dress she’s wearing had to have been made for her. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out my sister Maggiehadmade it for her. We always thought she would go into fashion design but turns out she likes doing it on the side, the pressure of designing as a career wasn’t what she wanted out of life.

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