Page 88 of Play Dirty

“Are you ready?” Marty’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom watching me braid my hair. We’re going to an end-of-summer cookout at Gabe and Harper’s. She’s not inviting the whole team since many of them aren’t back from wherever they live in the off-season, so it’ll be a more intimate group. That works well for me since it’s our first time attending an official team event as a couple.

I’m equal parts nervous and excited, and I’m not sure why.

I’m looking forward to meeting some of the wives and girlfriends I don’t know, but I’m worried that they’ll have preconceived notions about me. I have a reputation as a bit of an airhead, the kind of woman who likes falling in love more than being in a relationship. It’s not true, though there are elements of truth to it, so I’m a bit self-conscious about that aspect of my image.

I never cared before, but with Marty I want to be better. A better girlfriend and, more than that, a better version of myself. My therapist and I have discussed the fact that it’s possible my previous relationships fell apart because I was looking to them to make me feel better—about life, about my broken relationship with my family, about myself.

For Marty, I don’t want to be that version of me.

“Don’t forget the potato salad,” I call to him. I made a triple batch of a recipe I found online and even though it was my first time making something like that, I think it turned out pretty good.

“I’ve got it.” He comes around the corner looking devilishly handsome in navy shorts, a white polo shirt, and docksiders.

He presses a kiss on my cheek as he passes me, and I grab the beach bag I filled with towels, sunscreen, our bathing suits, and a few other odds and ends. Harper said it was casual and that we’d be outside most of the day, so I wanted to make sure we have anything we might need.

The driveway and street in front of Gabe and Harper’s house is already lined with cars when we get there, and I look around.

“I thought she said this would be a moreintimateget-together?”

“I think thisisintimate for them,” he says, laughing.

We walk around back together, hands linked between us. He’s carrying the big bowl of potato salad and I’ve got our beach bag, and I’m immediately aware of the curious glances coming our way.

“Is this your first time on a date since Brenna?” I ask under my breath.

“I guess it is.” He tugs me a little closer. “Don’t worry. My teammates are pretty cool, and you have friends here. No one else matters.”

“Hi, guys, welcome!” Harper calls out to us, waving.

She’s eight months pregnant and looks delightful in a red sundress that shows off her pale skin and light hair.

“Hey!” Marty waves back and I smile.

I’m relieved to see Chey and Ivan, Connor and Effie, and Canyon, Saylor, and Ally. At least there are a few people here who like me.

“Stevie!” Ally comes running over to me. “I want to show you something.”

“What, you don’t even say hello?” Marty teases her.

She laughs. “Hi, Uncle Marty! Bye, Uncle Marty!”

She tugs my hand, pulling me over to where Saylor and Effie are sitting.

“Show her,” she says in a stage whisper.

Effie chuckles. “Check it out. She came to a photo shoot with me.”

She hands me her phone and I see a beautiful picture of Ally, her face in profile, gazing off at something, hair gently blowing back from her face. It’s a stunning picture, and I can’t help but smile.

“Oh, honey, this is beautiful.”

“Keep swiping. There’s more.”

I swipe right and see another pose, this one with her smiling, and it’s sweet.

“Help me choose one to give Uncle Canyon for his birthday. Saylor and I are going to frame it.”

“Definitely this one,” I say, going back to the first one. “This is my favorite. I’d like a copy too.”

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