Page 20 of Love and Other Chances

“Tell me more about the Bible studies you do at Townsend.” Brooks’ question pulls me out of my thoughts. He continues, “I confess I still feel a little foggy about what exactly your day-to-day job looks like.”

I laugh in response. “I know. It doesn’t really make sense unless you’ve experienced it firsthand. I lead four different small groups in addition to our large group events, plus I meet one-on-one with girls who want to deepen their faith and grow their leadership skills.”

Brooks’ eyebrows raise, though his eyes stay on the road. “That sounds like alot.”

“I guess so. It’s exhausting sometimes, but I really do love it.” I give an overview of the Bible studies I lead, highlighting the irony that TriAlpha was our rival house in my college days.

“Ooo, building bridges with the enemy, huh?” Brooks teases.

“Something like that,” I say with a giggle. I can’t help myself. “This semester, I took over meeting with a group of seniors on Friday mornings because Rachel, our head staff woman, recently had twins. They don’t like to sleep much, so she asked if I could cover the early morning group this fall.”

“Oof, early mornings plus Teegan. What an explosive combination,” Brooks says with a quick smirk in my direction.

“Har har,” I scoff. “It might not be my favorite time of day, but I’m managing. And exactly when did you turn into an early bird?”

Brooks shrugs a shoulder. “College plus basketball equaled a pretty demanding schedule, so the only time I could read my Bible was early in the mornings. I slept through my alarm a lot at first, but eventually it grew into a habit to wake up early. Which helped prepare me for teaching.”

We pull into the Brooklyn city limits, and my heart deflates a little, knowing our time together is coming to an end.

“Would you want to grab some dinner before I drop you off? I heard there was going to be a pop-up restaurant event in Center Square this evening,” Brooks says.

I want to say “yes” so badly. Too badly.

You cannot get sucked back into Brooks’ gravity, Teegan. You can’t do this again.

“I can’t,” I respond quickly, before my impulsive heart overpowers my mind. “Uh, my weekly video call with Amaya and Lana. I have to do that. So, no time for dinner, even though the pop-up restaurant sounds super cool.”

Never mind the fact that I still have another two hours before our rescheduled time.

Brooks’ hopeful expression falls for a split second before he smiles again. “The Beefs, right. Can’t keep them waiting. It was nice of them to bump back the time of your call by a few hours today.”

“Yes, it was. They’re the best!” I say it with enthusiasm, but then trail off to silence again.

A few minutes later, Brooks pulls up in front of my duplex. “I’ll carry your duffel bag inside for you,” he says, moving to open his car door.

“No, no! I’m fine. I got it!” I reply, quickly getting out of the car. Grabbing my bag out of the back seat, I shut the door a little too hard, wincing at the sound.

“Teegan, wait!” Brooks calls out the open passenger window. “Take the rest of the Sour Patch Kids. You know I won’t eat them.” He holds the bag up, and I accept it from his hand.

“Thanks for the ride. And for going with me this weekend,” I say.

“I had a lot of fun.” There’s sincerity and something slightly sad lacing Brooks’ voice as he says it.

“Me too.” There’s sincerity and somethingverysad lacing my voice. I rush up to my front door, giving only a brief wave over my shoulder before shutting myself inside.

Chapter nine

“Oh my goodness, I wish I could have seen that!” I exclaim. “A one-two punch from Mateo to Lana for the game-winning shot? Epic.”

“You need to have someone video these games for us, Beef,” Amaya adds. Lana grins at our enthusiasm. She and Mateo have been playing on a recreational soccer team together ever since Mateo rehabbed from his ankle injury but retired from professional soccer. In college, Lana never told us that she was a closet soccer connoisseur until she started dating Mateo. Amaya and I teased her about that for a long time, but she quickly converted us into casual soccer fans. Even if I still don’t understand all the rules, despite her repeated attempts to explain.

“How was the silent disco?” Amaya asks me. My heart beats wildly, then jumps up into my throat, making breathing a challenge.

“Super fun!” I squeak.

Amaya narrows her eyes at me. “Why are you being weird about it?”

I huff. “I’mnotbeing weird.”

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