Page 74 of Sure Shot
“Ooh, hockey!”
“I didn’t say that!” I squawk.
“You’d tell me if it wasn’t hockey.” She shrugs. “Besides, hockey players are the hottest. And you’re pretty far gone for this guy. I hate to break it to you, but the decision tree is pretty clear, honey. You have to poll him on his feelings. You have to ask him if he thinks you guys could ever be on the same page.”
I feel sick just trying to imagine this conversation. “He’d hate that. It’s too soon.”
“Is it?” Zara challenges me. “You have a lot of feelings for him. And it’s only going to get harder to hold it all in.”
It’s already hard. She’s right. “What if I ask, and he runs? Maybe I should wait a little longer. It’s only been six months since she kicked him to the curb. The ink on his divorce is barely dry.”
Zara reaches across the table and covers my hand with hers. “You might be right. But please consider giving yourself some kind of deadline. You sat here this summer and told me you wanted to have a baby. That you were willing to uproot your whole life and take a big business risk to focus on your family. Don’t let this guy stand in your way if he can’t ever be The One.”
I look down into my empty coffee cup and swallow hard. “Okay,” I promise.
“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you?” Zara cups a hand around her ear.
“Okay,” I repeat grumpily. “I won’t let this guy stand in the way of my plans. I will try to find a way to talk to him about the future. And if he says he doesn’t love me, I will let go of that dream.”
“Hot damn.” Zara punches the air with her fists, one at a time. “I’m good at this. Running other people’s lives is so exciting! I never knew.”
“Oh, you totally knew,” her brother Benito says, walking past our table. “You’ve been bossing me around since birth.”
“He had it coming,” she says without turning around. Then she gives me a huge smile. “What color is his hair?”
“What?” It takes me a second to realize she means Tank’s. “It’s brown, why?”
“Maybe it doesn’t matter, but I read an article about the genetics of red hair. Supposedly, globalization means that gingers will go extinct within a hundred years.”
“Shut the front door,” I say. “That’s ridiculous.”
Zara shrugs. “Apparently it isn’t. Redheads are only two percent of the population, and only four to five percent carry the gene. But I’m doing my share, Bess. I’m here to carry on the line with your brother.”
“My people are grateful.”
“Step up, Bess,” she says, teasing me. “Do your part.”
“I’ll try,” I promise.
Twenty-Four
I Want Tex-Mex
Tank
Come over at seven?We can order Indian Food.
Sitting on the weight bench in the gym, I pump my fist. I’ve been waiting for Bess’s text all day, and when it finally arrives, I’m elated. It’s been eight long days since I’ve seen her.
“Something happen? What did I miss?” Silas Kelly is watching me with a grin on his face. He crosses the room and drops down onto a mat to stretch.
“Aw, it’s nothing,” I say, tucking my phone under the bench and leaning back for another set of warm-up presses.
“I think I made that same face a half hour ago when Delilah said she’d be home tonight by eight.” Silas folds himself in half as he says this, because goalies are all made of rubber.
“Yeah,” I grunt. “It’s been a long road trip.”
“TV, takeout food, and sex,” Silas says. “That’s what everyone on the team will be doing tonight.”
