Page 17 of Weekends with You

We walked the short distance to the park in a pack, andI tried to stay in front of Henry so I wouldn’t be tempted to study the way his hands gripped the ball or how his shoulders rippled under his shirt.

“All right, usual teams, then?” he said as we came into a clearing. Everyone immediately pulled to opposite sides, leaving me standing in the middle. “Lucy, you take Alice’s spot on our team.” Aside from Henry, Liv and Finn were the other two members of our team.

“Reckon you can kick a ball, Luce?” Finn asked, and I tried not to be offended.

“Yes,” I laughed. “I think I can manage that much.”

“Brilliant! You’re already better than Alice, then.”

“Knew you were a good replacement,” Henry said. The compliment and the callback to our conversation last month made my knees weak. At this rate, maybe I couldn’t kick a ball after all.

Halfway through the game, we were up by one and playing pretty well. Until the sun caught the beads of sweat along Henry’s jaw, that is, and Cal booted the ball past me and into the makeshift goal while I wasn’t looking.Damn it.

Henry ran a frustrated hand through his hair, then bent over, hands on his knees, to catch his breath. I had to catch mine, too.

“Shit, sorry, guys,” I said. “That’s on me.”

“Nah, that’s all of us,” Finn said. “But now it’s tied at four, and we’re only playing first to five, so we need a plan.”

Henry called a time-out and pulled the four of us into a huddle, holding us by the shoulders. His hand was warm and strong, and I could have stayed under its grip for the rest of the day.

“Right, then. Pass to Bernstein.”

“What? That’s the plan? That’s a terrible plan,” I protested. Was he insane?

“Lucy’s right,” Finn said. “Sorry, Luce, but, you know.”

I nodded.

“Why Lucy, exactly?” Liv asked.

“They’ll never see it coming,” he explained. “And she’s not half bad. Definitely not as bad as she thinks she is.” He shot me a quick smile before he put his game face back on, and I was giddy. And also extremely nervous.

“And you want me to just shoot it?”

“Quite simple, isn’t it?” His smile returned. “You can do it. Hands in.”

“Pressure’s on, Lucy,” Finn said.

“No shit,” I laughed.

“All right,” Henry said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s do this.”

It really wasn’t a high-pressure situation, but I felt like I might as well have been on a World Cup team. My palms were slick from a combination of nerves and sun, but the play was practically over before it started. Henry to Finn, Finn to me, me to the goal.

Pass, pass, shoot, score.

“Bloody hell!” Henry cried, arms in the air. “You’ve done it!” Before I had a chance to react, he scooped me up effortlessly into his arms in a celebratory hug and spun me around. When my feet were back on solid ground, we took a beat to straighten ourselves, both dizzy from the spinning. Or at least I told myself it was from the spinning.

“Jammy bastards,” Jan complained. He had hardly touched the ball, but he was notorious for being a sore loser.

“Not quite sure it was luck, mate,” Henry said. “This onehere might be a proper big-game player after all.” Holding the ball in the crook of one arm, he slung the other over my shoulders and tousled my hair, and I could no longer blame my flush on the exercise.

“Does this mean we can eat now?” Jan asked, already digging through the cooler. Raja threw a ratty old blanket onto the grass beside him, and we all flopped down at once.

“Do you want to change your answer?” Raja whispered to me, and I rolled my eyes.

“Not yet,” I whispered back. “But ask me again tomorrow.”

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