Page 52 of Hail Marry
She smiles and takes the bag. “You’ll see. Come on in. My family won’t be here for another half hour or so. I don’t think they’ll stay too long. I told them it’s a huge day for you and to just stop by for a bit.”
My stomach tightens. I’m feeling like I’ll need a whole lot of that luck today. The wide receiver class is deep this year, making it more competitive than usual. I didn’t get drafted yesterday during the second and third rounds, which, though expected, has shaken me more than I care to admit. What if I keep getting bumped down and don’t get drafted at all?
Today is the culmination of many years of work and sacrifice, and I can hardly grasp that it’ll all be over in a few hours. Either I get drafted and my future is decided for me, or I don’t get drafted and I have to keep proving myself and hoping a team picks me up before the season starts.
Or I give up on my dream entirely.
I shut the door behind me and note the empty pitcher and cups sitting on the counter. There’s a bowl of popcorn next to it, complete with a server and small sacks.
Tori sets down my bag on the sofa next to a few framed photos. “Oh, shoot,” she says. “Forgot about these. I need to get these two up on the wall”—she indicates the larger prints—“and I was going to put the others on the entry table.”
I walk closer and realize they’re pictures of us. Most are from our photoshoot, but one of the standing frames is the picture of us from the hospital—minus Tyler, who’s been mercilessly cropped out.
“I can hang them,” I say.
“Really?” She looks at me like I’m her saving grace. “That would besohelpful.”
I get to work while she starts making lemonade and giving me pointers on her family. I’ve already met Austin and Mia, but her parents will be coming, and so will Troy, Stevie, and their baby Eden.
“Siena and Jack won’t be here,” she explains. “They live up in Monterey, and it’s probably for the best, since she’s bound to have the most questions for you.”
“More than your dad?” I hammer the second nail into a stud.
“My dad is a total sweetheart. Siena…well, she can be feisty. But once she’s decided she likes you, you’re in for good.”
I blow out a breath. “And if she doesn’t decide that?”
Tori looks at me, then shakes her head. “She’ll like you.”
I really hope she’s right. “I don’t know whether I’m more nervous for the draft or your family.”
She clenches her teeth. “That’s definitely not what I was going for by agreeing to have them come.”
“I’m mostly kidding. It’ll be a good distraction. I just want to be a good husband.” I wink at her.
“Speaking of which…” She comes around from the counter and grabs the bag I brought, then she heads down the hallway.
“Where are you going?” I ask as I hang the frame. It’s a picture of me carrying her at the beach. We’re both laughing, and I can’t help a little smile at the memory of her hepatitis fears and the awkward way she was walking before I picked her up.
“As far as they know, you live here,” Tori calls from out of sight. “I’m just providing evidence.”
I furrow my brow, then set the hammer aside and follow her.
She’s in her bedroom, turning one of my socks inside out. Once she’s done, she tosses it in the air like confetti before working on the next one.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
“You never pick up your socks.” She flings the second one just shy of the hamper.
“I always pick up my socks.” I grab the first sock and toss it in the hamper.
She snatches it right back out and turns to look me in the eye. “You used to. But I’m sorry to report that you’ve gotten lazy as a married man.” She tosses the sock over her shoulder, and it falls next to the bed.
“I thought we were trying to make your family like me. They won’t be looking back here anyway, right?”
“My family is nosy, Luca.”
“Well”—I reach into the hamper and pull out the first thing—“you’vealsobecome lazy since getting married.”
