Page 8 of My Hotshot

He had firmly left the ball in my court.

If I deleted the number, it would be like he didn’t exist. Like he hadn’t shown up with that same slow drawl and half-smile that used to undo me.

My thumb hovered over the screen.

Delete.

It would be so easy. One tap, and he’d be gone again. I was the queen of avoidance. I could dodge and sidestep with the best of them. Hell, I’d stayed married to Lee for fifteen years without fully being present in that marriage.

I could pretend Duane never showed up.

I could.

But I didn’t.

“Having his number in my phone doesn’t mean I have to message or call him,” I muttered, half to myself and half to the granite countertop.

I typed in his name, Duane, not Dice, and stared at it. I tapped save and for a second felt like I was making a mistake.

“We don’t have to call him,” I reminded myself.

I backed out of the contact screen and returned to my home screen. The background was a picture of Lottie at the beach last summer with her hair a wild mess of curls and her face sun-kissed. She looked happy. That’s all I wanted.

I hit the lock button and slid the phone back into my pocket.

Duane was officially on the back burner.

I’d think about him later. Or never. Never sounded like the smarter option.

Right now, I needed to focus on getting us settled. Unpacking boxes, stocking the pantry, getting the water bill figured out—real-life things.

My eyes flicked to the microwave clock.

“Crap.”

I shoved the last of the crackers into the cabinet, jammed all of the frozen things into the freezer, and tucked the milk, eggs, butter, and ten other things that would spoil into the fridge. Everything else on the counter, I’d deal with later.

I grabbed my purse off the hook by the back door, tugged it over my shoulder, and snatched my keys from the bowl as I moved.

The garage door slid up as I pressed the button. The sun filtered in low and golden across the concrete floor. I rushed to the car and started the engine as I shut the door.

Lottie was going to kill me if I were late picking her up from school again.

Trying not to think about Duane was not working. I needed to put him firmly out of my mind and get back to starting the life I had wanted for the past fifteen years.

I backed out of the garage, pressed the button on the visor to shut the garage door, and rushed down the street to the high school.

“Focus on what matters, Lainey, and not Duane,” I advised myself.

Duane had broken my heart sixteen years ago.

I wasn’t going to let him do that to me again.

Chapter Three

Dice

Yarder’s voice cut through the low murmur in the room like a blade. “Leo and Brynn are ready to move on Boone, Gibbs, and their crew,” he announced from the head of the table. “Stretch included.”

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