Page 11 of The Silent Count
Scarlett breaks free from the group she was chatting with, opening her arms as she ambles over to us. It’s a shame she can’t see the dozens of people standing behind her with smiles spread across their faces. There’s no question they’re sharing knowing glances and speculative whispers as they analyze us.
“I hate to say I told you so…” Lea mumbles out of the corner of her mouth seconds before plastering on a bright big smile and embracing her friend.
My vision is hazy as I try to process what’s happening, but my eyes catch Abel standing off to the side, away from everyone else.
He doesn’t hide his amusement as he mouths the words, ‘You’re fucked,’ before taking a long pull from his beer.
* * *
“Coach is goingto kick your ass.” Abel shakes his head as he extends me an ice-cold beer from the cooler.
“Then kick me off the team right after.”
“Doubtful.” He shrugs, bringing his bottle to his mouth and taking a pull. “He might talk a big game, but he’s a softy at heart.”
I’m not sure how much of asoftyhe’s going to be when he finds out that his daughter and I are more than coworkers. If I had it my way, we’d be more than friends, too. Coach doesn’t need to know that, though. He doesn’t need to know about any of this.
So what if I get interrogated by him for bringing Lea to the party? Is he seriously going to have a problem with me looking out for his daughter and making sure she’s safe? I cannot envision a situation where a father would be unhappy about that sort of thing.
“Is it really that obvious?” I ask after a few minutes of sipping on our beers, watching the crowd mingling.
I have a sneaking suspicion everyone knows I’ve been in love with this girl from the moment I saw her. Coach, Lea, and I might be the only ones who are oblivious to it.
His throaty chuckle answers my question better than any words ever could.
Fuck me.
Lea and Scarlett walk up to Abel and me after taking a lap around the party. The two of us have stayed in the same spot, huddled up in the corner just like Lea knew we would be. She bounces her gaze between the two of us with a headshake as she takes up a spot standing right next to me. So close that all night, her shoulder brushes up against my arm as she talks with her hands. When people try to squeeze past us to get to the cooler, I wrap my hand gently around her waist, pulling her in for a brief second until they pass. Every time I make the move, she melts into my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
The dark night sky and swaying twinkle lights in the backyard signal the incoming storm. Almost as if we’re on the same wavelength, Lea looks over and places a gentle hand on my bicep. She gives melet’s get out of hereeyes that make me want to scoop her up and carry her to the car where I’ll spend the rest of the night fucking her senseless.
“Are you ready to head out?” I ask, and our friends mumble in agreement at the mention of how late it’s gotten.
Lea nods, and we say our goodbyes. As Abel and Scarlett walk away, I bend down just enough so I can whisper against the shell of her ear. “I’ll go ahead to the car and you come out five minutes behind me. Don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression and make them think we’re going home together.”
Walking toward the gate, I turn to see her standing with her hands on her hips and mouth open in surprise.
Let’s see how much she likes her little game now.
FIVE
LEA
I’mthe coach’s daughter.
I’m not supposed to replay the way it felt to have one of my dad’s players’ hands resting on my lower back earlier tonight.
I’m not allowed to imagine what it would feel like if Fortune were to reach over during our car ride and absentmindedly graze his fingertips up and down my inner thigh.
And I certainly shouldn’t have spent the last hour sitting in the Matrix player’s parking lot chatting with him about everything and nothing.
Fortune has his hand over his heart in the driver’s seat, bellowing with laughter as we reminisce about his first season with the team. Specifically, the time when a player from the Assassins accidentally pantsed a referee during a play. I turn to face him, leaning the side of my head against the headrest watching in awe as he catches his breath.
Talking with him is effortless. I could sit here for hours and never get bored with hearing him talk. Which is surprisingly a lot. For a man who rarely speaks at work, there’s been no shortage of words tonight.
Soft clinks of rain hitting his SUV fill the silence that suddenly surrounds us. We share a brief smile, a clear sign that the night is over and we should go our separate ways. Neither of us says a word, instead turning our focus to the rain droplets piling up on the windshield.
I want to stay. Continue talking with him until sunrise. The thought alone makes my stomach twist with the contradictory feeling of right and wrong at the same time.
