Page 30 of #Awestruck

“Your memory is flawed. That never happened. I am the supreme champion of that game.”

“Then I want a rematch,” he told me with a smile.

And again, I couldn’t help myself. I smiled back.

“Number Five,” he said under his breath, more to himself than to me. He seemed ... happy. I was responsible for that. Maybe confessing and apologizing made him feel lighter, too.

Which made me feel guilty all over again. “So you said you don’t have to worry about money? If the team cuts you?”

He grinned at me. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to stick you with the bill after dinner because I forgot my wallet.”

“That’s not why ... I mean, you’d be okay if it did happen, right?”

“My parents left me a pretty substantial life insurance policy, on top of the money the Jacks have paid me.” Which was in the tens of millions. “But you know whatNFLstands for.”

“Not for long.”

He nodded. “And nothing lasts forever. We’re always one injury away from our careers being over. So I’ve made sure to invest it all wisely and have done really well. I would be fine.”

“I bet you’d trade it all in for one more day with your parents.”

An anguished look clouded his bright-blue eyes. “I would.”

“Me too. I have a trust fund from my grandma that I’d hand over without even thinking if I could see her again. You know, I was named after her. Well, kind of.”

“What do you mean?” He was watching me intently, like I was the only person in the entire world, and he couldn’t wait to hear what I said next.

It made me nervous, so I, of course, started to babble. “Her name was Evelyn. She was one of those debutante types who developed a love for football, especially the Portland Jacks. And more than anything she wanted to be a sports announcer. But they barely let her do any reporting at all. They wouldn’t even let her in the locker room after the games. She did end up writing for thePortland Blaze’s sports section by taking her maiden name and her married name. Ashton Bailey. Because it sounded like a man’s name instead of a woman’s. So the readers wouldn’t know. I’m her namesake. Aubrey was named after my mom’s mom.”

He put down his fork and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Why did your youngest sister get left out of theAnaming thing?”

“She didn’t. Her actual name is Aurora. My mom claims it had something to do with the aurora borealis, but I suspect that it’s for the Disney princess.” I grabbed a roll and some butter. Better to stuff my face than to keep saying stupid things.

“I have anAnickname. Sounds like I’d fit right in.”

I stopped buttering my roll. “My whole family sort of hates you because of the high school stuff. I mean, we’re a Jacks family with season tickets, and we cheer for you on Sundays, but they’re ironic cheers.”

He shot me one of those knowing smiles. “So the Jacks are your favorite team?”

“Obviously.” How could anyone live in Oregon and not love the Jacks?

“Which by default would make me your favorite player, right? Seeing as how I’m the QB and all.”

“Hardly. And here’s why.”

I brought up a bunch of different players on the team and their skill sets, but even I had to secretly admit that Evan was the best.

Our conversation just kept snowballing from there. We talked about our college experiences. He told me some funny stories about the other players on his team, trying to make a case for why he should be my favorite. He admitted to his superstition about putting on new laces for his cleats before every game.

If it had been any other guy sitting across the table from me, I would have considered it a really successful date. We had a lot of common interests. We clicked, we bantered, we connected.

But it was Evan Dawson, and it wasn’t actually a date. Just the chance for him to say sorry and for us to catch up. For me to think about forgiving him and moving on.

Or, more accurately, a chance for me to get him to admit he was lying to everyone about his personal life.

We had dessert and kept talking and talking. Jeannie brought in the check and said to stay and keep enjoying ourselves. Evan signed it and then excused himself to use the restroom.

Without even thinking, I leaned over and opened up the little leather check folder. I’d always been too curious for my own good. Dinner had been expensive, and he’d left her a $500 tip and included a handwritten thank-you at the bottom.

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