Page 70 of Stealing for Keeps
“But if I couldn’t, then there are other things I’d try.”
“Like?”
He blushes a little, and it makes me more curious.
“What? Tell me.”
“I think it’d be kind of cool to be a stuntman.”
I’m taken aback by his reply. It’s so not what I expected. I fight a smile, but when his own goofy grin appears, I let mine loose with a laugh.
“A stuntman? Like in the movies?”
“Yeah. Chase scenes, jumping off buildings, all the stuff the actors don’t want to do.”
“Because they don’t want to risk death.”
His grin turns into a lopsided smirk. “I’d be a good stuntman, obviously.”
While I’m still laughing at him, I’m also swooning a little as I imagine him coolly walking away from an exploding vehicle.
“What would you want to try?” He sits with his hands braced on either side of him. His pinkie finger brushes against mine. “What interests you?”
“I don’t know. Everything. Nothing.”
“I see you’ve narrowed it down,” he says dryly.
“If I had it figured out, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you.”
“Ouch.”
“I mean I’d be busy doing whatever amazing thing I’m newly obsessed with.”
“What happened?” he asks, then looks to my foot. “How’d you hurt it?”
“Years of pushing through injuries and practicing too many hours a day.” I shake my head. “I was warming up before a competition. I went up, and when I came down…” I trail off. It was wrong. Everything was wrong.
“I’m sorry.”
I nod, throat clogged with too much emotion to speak.
His gaze locks on me, then drops to my lips. “Let’s do it then. Let’s find you some new hobbies.”
His green eyes spark with hope. He makes it sound so simple, but I’ve thought a lot about other things I could do, and except for binge-watching TV shows, I haven’t done any of them.
Still, I can feel how badly he wants to help, and I guess I get a little swept up in that too.
“How would we do that?” I ask.
My stomach flutters as he grins wide at me.
“Leave it to me.”
Practice is coming to an end. The kids are huddled up, and the coach is trying to give them a few final words, but they’re inching away, barely listening.
Wyatt barrels toward us, ball tucked under his arm. “Did you see me out there? I scored two goals!”
“You were on fire.” Austin holds out a fist for his little brother.
