Page 6 of Just Say Yes

From the corner of my vision, I noted curious eyes peeking from behind the high backs of the chairs, staring directly at us and soaking up our interaction.

I scoffed and settled on my heels. “Yeah.” I gestured toward her small frame. “You’ve got this whole storm-cloud vibe happening. It’s cute.”

When my gaze floated over her face, I licked my lip.

“Cute?”Fire danced in MJ’s eyes. “You are absolutely unreal. Do you know that? First you skulk around an assisted-living facility—after hours, let me remind you—then you have the balls to insinuate that I’m a—a—a lady of the night!”

I was suddenly tickled by her account of what had happened tonight.

“You been thinking about my balls, Thunder?” Goading her was probably a mistake, but my grandfather’s sense of humor was something I came by honestly. I shifted my stance as a few giggles tittered through the crowd of curious onlookers.

MJ threw her hands in the air with a frustrated growl. “You think this is funny?”

“Not funny. Amusing. There’s a difference.” I sighed. “I came to apologize.” My voice was thick, but I hoped it sounded as sincere as I’d intended.

It was enough to stop MJ mid-rant. Her mouth hung open for a second before she snapped it shut.

Seizing the opportunity, I continued: “I had just gotten into town and wanted to say hello to my grandfather. The girl at the front desk said a quick visit wouldn’t be a problem.”

Her hazel eyes gazed up at me, and I stepped forward, drawn into her space. “Safe to say I was surprised to see a woman who looks likeyouhaving a candlelit dinner with my eighty-six-year-old grandfather.”

MJ’s fists clenched again, but the fire in her eyes had dimmed to a low smolder.

“You said your piece then.” An older woman stepped beside MJ, placing a supportive hand between her shoulder blades. “You’ve disrupted our evening enough. Good night.”

I looked around, and a sea of wide eyeballs were staring at us.

My grin widened as I raised my hand. “Hi.” I chuckled and shook my head. The night could not have been more of a disaster. “Bye.”

A few of the women waved back, stunned into a disbelieving stupor.

Before I walked out the front door of the bookstore, something stopped me. I looked back at MJ, who was still as pissed off as ever. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Thunder.”

MJ rolled her eyes with a huff and turned her back to me, walking straight toward her book club friends. “I need a drink.”

You and me both, lady.

Amused, I made my way back to my apartment but couldn’t shake the image of the pink in MJ’s cheeks and the fire in her eyes. That tiny little spitfire was a lot less like a thundercloud and more like a tsunami.

I dropped my keys on the entryway table and plopped myself onto the couch with a huff. My temporary apartment was a few miles from Outtatowner, nestled between it and Star Harbor, another tourist town up the coast. As a kid from a no-name town in Michigan, when my star rose quickly in high school, my mom eagerly followed her only kid around the country. In fact, she and I had moved so much, it was hard to consideranywherehome. Somewhere along the line Mom had gotten tired of all the moving and settled back into our hometown.

I looked around the quiet, lonely apartment.

Just as good a place as any, I guess.

Fuck, I wanted a beer, but the image of my coach frowning popped into my mind. Only a few weeks off our recently successful Olympic run and I was still carrying around his voice in my head.

Apparently, even a gold medal didn’t earn you a break.

A few of my teammates planned to keep up with their training in the World Rugby Sevens—international tournaments used to promote the sport. I’d had every intention to play, but one nasty concussion and a tweaked knee had pulled the plug on that plan. I needed the fall months to focus on a full recovery so I was prepared to show up in February at peak performance.

At thirty-four, I was already hearing the whispers—too old, too broken. Another bad injury and I’d be watching matches from the stands.

I needed focus. Recovery. Quiet.

Instead, I’d gotten thunder in stilettos, glaring at me like I was the worst thing to ever happen to her. And the part that irritated me most? I couldn’t get her out of my head.

All I needed was to focus—any slip could mean losing everything I’d worked for.

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