Page 19 of Whispers and Wildfire

“Ever?”

“No.”

I nodded, mildly impressed. “Good for you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Really? Usually, people try to tell me I’m wrong.”

“I mean it. I assume you have your reasons. I don’t date either, and I have reasons of my own. Although, I’ll be shocked if my mother doesn’t play matchmaker sooner rather than later. And knowing her, she’ll manage to talk me into it. But enough about me. How are you?” I pointed at the papers in front of him. “Working?”

“Football camp is coming up soon. There’s a lot of planning.”

“That’s right. You’re a coach, aren’t you?”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “Yeah. It’s a great gig. I teach, too.”

“High schoolers? That’s brave. What do you teach?”

“Math and science.”

“Ew, math,” I said with a slight smile. “Didn’t you play pro football for a while?”

“Until I got injured.”

I winced. “Sorry. Any other painful subjects I could bring up while I’m busy making things awkward?”

The subtle grin didn’t leave his face. “No, I think my career-ending injury is about it.”

“Oh! We could talk about my frustrating divorce. Would that even things out?”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re good.”

Theo’s eyes moved to something—or someone—behind me, and I caught the subtle scent of cologne mixed with a hint of rubber. I had a feeling I knew exactly who it was. A tingle swept across my skin, and my stomach fluttered, but I couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or loathing.

“That’s my seat.” Luke’s voice was flat as he moved to stand next to the table.

I lifted my gaze, batting my eyelashes, and when I spoke, I dropped into an exaggerated Southern accent. “And what a gentleman you are for lettin’ me keep it.”

“That’s not cute.”

“I daresay I disagree,” I said, keeping the accent and putting a hand to my chest. “I’m cute as a button and sweet as strawberry rhubarb pie.”

“And also delusional.” His tone was controlled, but I knew him. I could hear the undercurrent of ire.

“What? I’m a delight.”

“Can you just use your normal voice? The world isn’t your stage.”

I almost kept the Southern belle act going just to push his buttons, but I let it go and returned to my natural voice. “My friend Shakespeare would disagree.”

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players,” Theo recited.

Luke and I both turned to look at him.

“What?” he asked.

My gaze swung back to Luke’s. Eye contact with him was disconcerting, but I wasn’t about to let that show.

“Why are you even here?” he asked.

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