Page 15 of All This Time
“Thanks, Mr. Hart.” Henley plays center, which makes sense given his size.
“You coming over for a late dinner to celebrate?”
“Nah. I promised Dilynne I’d take her to Ruthie’s.”
Dilynne chimes in next to me. “I’m in the mood for pie.” She rubs her stomach before turning to me. “Talk to you tomorrow?”
“Yup. See ya.”
She waves before following Henley toward the field house.
Elliot sees us from where he’s standing with his family, waving in acknowledgment. He always has something going on with his parents, so I know he won’t be joining us either. Which only leaves…
“Did you see Fletcher’s catch?” Rhonan asks as he runs up to us with Fletcher trailing behind him.
“Yes, honey. We saw.” My mother intercepts my brother in a hug, pressing a kiss to his sweaty cheek.
“Hell of a play, Fletcher,” my father says, reaching out to shake Fletcher’s hand.
My pulse picks up at the smile that lights up his face. “Thanks, Mr. Hart.”
“You’re having an impressive season.”
“I’m trying,” Fletcher says sheepishly, and for a moment I’m wondering where the cocky boy I’ve grown to know is hiding.
Coach Adams walks up to us, extending a hand to my father. “George, Elizabeth. Good to see you both.”
My father reaches out to shake his hand. “Likewise, Luke. Your boy looked great tonight.”
Coach Adams glances over at Fletcher. “He could have done more.”
Fletcher’s jaw ticks as he looks away from his father.
My mother’s eyebrows draw together. “Well, I was impressed,” she replies as Fletcher offers her a tight-lipped smile. “Will you two be joining us for dinner?”
“I can’t. I need to review game footage and get ready for next week’s game,” Coach Adams says.
“I’ll be there,” Fletcher says enthusiastically, which makes butterflies take flight in my stomach again. They started fluttering a few months ago, anytime Fletcher’s around.
“Perfect,” Mom says. “Well, you boys get cleaned up and we’ll meet you out by the car.”
“See you at home later, son,” Luke says to Fletcher before heading back to the sideline to finish clearing out.
Fletcher doesn’t even acknowledge him. “Are you making spaghetti, Mrs. Hart?”
My mother winks at him. “Just for you, Fletcher.”
He rubs his stomach, which causes his jersey to move up, offering a glimpse at his abs underneath. “A woman after my own heart.”
Dad gives him a mock glare. “You’d better watch it, son. That’s my wife you’re flirting with.”
Rhonan rolls his eyes as I giggle. “Oh, Dad. Get real.”
Fletcher holds his hands in the air. “I mean no harm. Promise.”
My dad grins and then grabs my mother’s hand. “Come on, honey. Let’s go wait in the car where it’s warm.” Then he turns to me and grabs my hand as well. “I know you’re cold too, Laney.”
With one more glance at Fletcher and my brother, I take my father’s hand and let him lead me to warmth. But the truth is, I haven’t been cold since Fletcher walked up. Apparently, my crush affects not just my mind, but also my body.
