Page 26 of A Game Plan for Love

I allow the thought to help balm the disappointment. The final player leaves, and I work to clean up, wiping down the benchtop and drying the blenders. There’s a blissful silence for five minutes before someone clears their throat.

“Hi, Addie.”

I drop the towel and turn so quickly that my head spins.

Declan.

He holds a small bouquet of daisies in his grip, and his hair is wet from the shower, strands falling over his eyes.

“Hi!” My voice cracks, and nerves flutter in my stomach. Why is he holding flowers? “How’ve you been?”

I’m nailing this interaction. Eyes haven’t strayed to his biceps once, and I asked a civil question.

“Uh, good.”

His eyes flicker around the room, focused on anything but me. He shifts from one foot to the other, and the awkwardness is dialed to ten.

“Declan,” I say, hoping to draw his attention. Instead, he looks down at the daisies andblushes. The outgoing, playboy tight-end blushes. “Why won’t you look at me?”

My gut roils asking the question.

“I can’t,” he admits sheepishly.

“What do you mean? Stop looking around the room and look at me instead.”

“Can’t.” He shakes his head for emphasis. “Can’t look at you and focus on my question at the same time.”

A snicker comes from the door, followed by a deep groan, and my eyes dart to find Henry, Jack, and Deon blocking the doorway.

What the fuck is going on?

Henry smiles, Jack offers a thumbs up, and Deon…winks?

I ignore them and focus on Declan, who still refuses to meet my gaze.

“Are you okay?” I whisper, closing the space between us. Declan sputters, which is followed by another snicker. Something about the sound grates on my nerves, so I stomp over to the door where his teammates are standing and slam it in their faces.

When I turn around, Declan is staring at me with stunned eyes. But he is lookingat me.

“I-I don’t want to be weird—”

“You’re not off to a great start.”

That earns me a genuine smile, and some of his nerves dissipate.

“I’m nervous,” he admits.

“Why?”

A dozen daisies are shoved in my face, and the soft, floral scent permeates the air.

“These are for you.” My heart squeezes, and I take the stunning bouquet of my favorite flowers. Did he know, or was it a lucky guess?. “I like you.”

He likes me?Likesme?

“Oh?”

I try to contain the beating in my chest, but it pounds in my ears.

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