Page 3 of Dear Coach's Daughter
“You don’t have to do that,” I say, pulling a twenty out of my pocket.
He holds up his hand to stop me. “It’s the least I can do. Who knows how long I might have had to wait to put in my order without you.”
“Thank you.”
"You're welcome—" he pauses, waiting for me to give my name.
I hesitate for a moment.
In this city, it's not out of the realm of possibility that he could recognize my name if he's even slightly interested in football. My parents saddled me with a unique name that the sports commentators like to explain to the viewing audience during the downtime in the game when the camera would find my mother and me in the stands. I don’t like people knowing that I'm Coach Moreno's daughter. They think I have the ability to get an infinite amount of free tickets for them when they find out. I mean, I do, but I don’t tell people that.
“Bea,” I say.
“It’s very nice to meet you.”
The bartender sets down my two margaritas in front of me. I pick them up and step back from the bar.
“Thank you for the drinks, Hunter.”
If I don’t make myself walk away now, I can easily see myself wanting to spend the rest of the night talking to him.
He doesn’t hide the disappointment on his face when he realizes our time together is over. No, it’s not that he doesn’t hide it. It’s that I don’t think he can hide it. Hunter is so open that it’s easy to read him like a book.
Gah.
Why does he have to be so appealing?
I turn and take my drinks back to Taylor. She doesn't even look like she noticed I was gone when I slip into the booth bench across from her. She's on her phone texting, and I don't have to ask to know that it's her boyfriend, Mack. I only met him once so far, but he was like a kid on Christmas when he found out who my father is.
“He has not stopped staring at you,” Taylor says.
“Who?”
She makes an annoyed face at me. “What do you mean who? The guy you were flirting with at the bar.”
I glance over my shoulder and meet his unapologetic gaze. He gives me that easy smile that made my heart skip when he first flashed it at me. I turn back to Taylor.
“Go over and talk to him. You know you want to.”
I do.
“I can’t. I have enough on my plate right now. I don’t need to muddle up my life with some guy.”
“Brownie, you can’t put your life on hold forever.”
“Not forever,” I say and take a sip. “At least until I know my Dad is okay.”
