Page 57 of Spring Tide

Someone should give me an award for fibbing, considering it’s become my full-time occupation now.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you two up there.”

We both watch in silence as Fletcher retreats, his head hung in defeat. I nudge Eden in the ribs once he’s officially out of earshot. “What wasthat?”

“I know, I totally just threw you under the bus.” She cringes, apology reflected in her eyes. “We’re going to Hanford for the away game tomorrow. We’ll be on the field all night, so you don’t actually have to go with me. Obviously.”

“Wait, that’s a great idea.” I pause for a moment, rescheduling the weekend inside my head. “I could get someone to cover my shift at Amber Isle. You said it yourself, I’ve gotta show Luca how much I really care.”

She loops our arms together, a nervous smile playing on her lips. “So you’ll actually ride up with me, then? Stay the night and everything?”

“Of course. It sounds fun.”

“And you’ll help keep me away from Grant’s hotel room?” she asks in a quiet, pleading tone.

I can hardly suppress the soft giggle that escapes my throat. “Now, that one might be out of my hands.”

“Pleeease, Harper,” she begs, clasping both hands together in front of her chest. “He’s being so goddamn sweet lately. It’s getting too hard to resist. I mean, did you see that shy little act he put on just now?”

I clasp both of her hands in mine, leveling her with an ear-splitting grin. “Maybe it’s not an act.”

Her brows shoot up. “Have you met Grant Fletcher?”

“Very true.”

We resume our walk, heading through the quad in search of the nearest café. It’s a nice afternoon, but there are a few looming storm clouds gathering in the distance, the lingering heat from this morning dipping into sweater weather.

“So you gonna give your boy another call?” Eden nudges me again. “Let him know you’ll be at his game this weekend?”

“I think I might just surprise him, actually.”

* * *

I’m fairly rattledby the time Eden and I arrive at the hotel. She’s an erratic driver, the type who likes to duck between lanes to shave off a few extra minutes of drive time. I asked to take over on several different occasions, but according to Eden, I drive like a “retired grandmother who forgot her glasses at home.”

I have great vision and a perfectly clean driver’s record, so I highly doubt the accuracy of that statement.

Once we pull into the parking lot, Eden basically peels into the closest spot near the hotel entrance. The tires on her old Hyundai squeal against the pressure, the car lurches to a sudden stop, and I finally let my head drop back.

After a few calming breaths, Eden clears her throat beside me. “Hey, Harper?”

“Yep,” I murmur, eyes still shuttered.

“Half the team is staring at us right now.”

My head snaps up, gaze darting toward the hotel entrance. Nearly a hundred players and support staff are huddled along the expansive sidewalk, gear and duffles in hand as they await their shuttles.

I eagerly scan the crowd.

Luca’s standing near the back of the flock, broad arms folded across his chest, attention planted firmly on the sidewalk in front of him.

“Go say hi before they get on the bus,” Eden prompts, nearly shoving me out the passenger door. “I have to go catch up with our supervisor.”

“Don’t forget to tell her she’s my idol,” I say, scrambling for my bag in the back seat.

With one strap slung over my shoulder, I smooth down the tangles in my hair and square my shoulders. Internally, I’m freaking out. Externally, I’ve managed to muster up twenty-one years’ worth of confidence.

As I carefully approach, footsteps quietly pattering against the asphalt, a few players nod in my direction. One of them lays a heavy pat against Luca’s shoulder. His head snaps up, body jolting forward at the unexpected impact.

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