Page 10 of More Than a Hero
As the gym session and showers wrapped up, the boys gathered their bags, still buzzing with the energy of their workout as they filed toward the conference room for the next part of the afternoon. That was when Pete heard a woman’s laugh. It sounded so familiar that it made his chest tighten before he even turned around.
And sure enough, when he did, his hunch was right.
There was Angie, her bright yellow blouse flowing over a pair of light blue leggings. Her thick hair, the color of sand on a sunny day, was pulled into a high ponytail, tied back with a multicolored bandanna. Bracelets jingled with every step. She moved alongside a group of older adults, her steps slow to match their pace. A warm smile lit her face as she spoke to the woman in scrubs beside her.
Without thinking, Pete called out, "Angie!"
She turned, surprise flashing across her face. For a second, Pete regretted the sudden ambush—he hadn’t meant to put her on the spot. But then, her gaze found his, and her smile widened, radiating warmth that rivaled even the vibrant colors she wore.
Angie was still smiling at Pete as she turned slightly, checking on one of the seniors she was assisting. The woman was steady on her feet, giving Angie a reassuring nod, but Angie still placed a gentle hand on her elbow before shifting her attention back to Pete.
Realizing she was clearly working, he hesitated. "I can see you're busy?—"
"Yes, but what a nice surprise to run into you here!"
The fluorescent lighting of the YMCA hallway cast a harsh light, but it still managed to create a golden glow around her, catching the wavy tendrils of blond hair that had slipped free from her ponytail. They floated about her face like a halo, and her cheeks were slightly flushed. Had she been exercising, too? He felt an odd twist in his stomach at the thought, imagining her moving through stretches, laughter in her eyes, and wishing he could have been close to her.
Determined not to waste this moment, he cleared his throat. "I owe you an apology. I didn’t get back to you about having dinner. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I… I…" The words faltered as his brain scrambled for an excuse. He sure as hell wasn’t about to admit he’d chickened out.
She waved a hand, her fingers moving gracefully through the air. "It’s fine, Pete."
"Ms. Angie," Carina, the woman in scrubs, interrupted. "Take your time. I'll get everyone settled in the van."
Grateful for the reprieve, he nodded at Carina, but Angie looked momentarily torn as she glanced at the group of seniorsgrinning at her with open curiosity. Her blush deepened. "Thank you, Carina. I'll be right out, I promise."
Carina simply waved her off and then, to Pete’s amusement, winked at him before ushering their group toward the front doors. Now that they were alone in the hallway, he breathed a little easier without an audience.
"I won’t keep you, Angie," he said, his voice softer now. "But I really would like to take you to dinner."
She cocked her head to the side, lifting her chin slightly to hold his gaze. She had an expression he couldn’t define, but her hesitation gave him pause. Finally, she said, “Please don’t feel that you need to extend an invitation?—”
“No,” he rushed to interrupt whatever she was getting ready to say. “I want to take you to dinner. I’m just embarrassed that I didn’t do this… ask you earlier.”
“Really?” Uncertainty still filled her eyes.
“Yes. That is, if you’re still interested,” he added.
She laughed gently. “Of course I am.”
Now it was his turn to express doubt. “Really?” He felt his ears burn at the sound of his less-than-suave attempt to secure a date with her.
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I? After all, I asked you first.”
“Okay.” He smiled. He almost said he would call to set up the time and place, then realized that would sound too much like the last time.
"Mr. Pete!" Rasheem’s voice rang out as he burst through a nearby doorway, grinning widely. "Are you going to help me with my math?"
Pete opened his mouth to respond, but Rasheem’s gaze swung to Angie, and the boy’s eyes widened comically. "Actually, come to think about it, I don’t have any math homework, so you can… um… don’t hurry on my account… um… you can keep talking… to… um… you know… her."
The boy turned on his heel and practically ran back into the room, and a moment later, the muffled sounds of snickering and whispered words filtered into the hallway. Pete chuckled, shaking his head.
"It seems like you’re working, too."
"And I have my youth group once a week."
She lifted a shoulder in an easy shrug. "I have my group of older folks one evening a week."
For a beat, they stood there, sharing something that felt just a little deeper than small talk. He reached behind his neck, rubbing at the tension there, wishing he could think of something smooth or clever to say. Instead, he said, "Good. That’s nice."
