Page 94 of Almost Ours
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, resting my forehead against her thigh with a groan.
She groaned, covering her face. “Oh my God… that’s probably Mrs. Knox dropping Connor off early.”
We moved in unison, scrambling out of bed like teenagers caught doing something they shouldn’t. Harper lunged for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the floor, yanking them on and dragging her fingers through her hair in a wild attempt to make herself look somewhat presentable before rushing downstairs.
I heard the front door open and her voice float up the staircase–bright, overly casual.
“Hi! Thanks so much again for having him, Mrs. Knox.”
Mrs. Knox’s warm reply followed, along with Connor’s unmistakable excitement.
I was mid-panic, staring around the room like a fugitive. For a split second, I looked toward the bedroom window, mentally calculating the drop to the ground below. Could I make it if I jumped? Probably.
Would I break something in the process? Also probably.
Still… it might be less painful than whatever awkward explanation would unfold downstairs.
My clothes from last night were in a crumpled pile by the foot of the bed, but just as I reached for them, I hear Connor’s voice drift up:
“Hey… is that Coach Ryan’s truck in the driveway?”
Harper’s response was immediate–and flustered.
“Uh… oh! Um… I think… maybe? I mean, it could be. He was, um–he was…”
I snorted. Solid cover, Harper. Real smooth.
I grabbed the nearest thing I could find: an oversized gym shirt of hers and a pair of baggy sweats. On her, they were probably comfy and loose. On me? The shirt clung to my chest like second skin, and the sweats hit me a couple inches above the ankle, barely staying on my hips.
Jesus.
Still, it was better than showing up in my clothes from last night, or even worse, shirtless like I’d just wandered off the cover of a romance novel.
I took a breath and headed downstairs, trying to summon what little dignity I had left.
“The bathroom sink’s fixed,” I said as I reached the bottom step, voice completely deadpan.
Connor’s face lit up like Christmas morning. “Coach Ryan! You’re here! Did you sleep over?!”
Mrs. Knox was definitely staring at me–eyebrows raised, lips twitching. Then she turned to Harper with a slow, knowing smile and the subtlest eyebrow wiggle I’d ever seen.
“Thanks again, Mrs. Knox,” Harper smiled, visibly relaxing.
“It’s my pleasure,” Mrs. Knox said kindly, her eyes flicking between us again before she added, “I’ll see you all later.”
She gave Harper a small nod–one I wasn't supposed to notice–before heading back toward her house.
Harper exhaled, her shoulders sagging just a little, but Connor wasn’t done yet. He tugged on my hand, his excitement spilling over. “Ryan, can you stay? Please? Hang out for a bit.”
I glanced at Harper, searching her face for an answer. Her eyes met mine, wide yet calm, and then she gave me a small shrug–like she was handing me the reins. Whatever I decided, she’d go along with.
My chest tightened a little at that. Before I could say anything, though, Connor lit up like he’d already made the decision for me. “We should go skating! The arena is open and there is never anyone there in the mornings.”
I let out a quiet laugh, still trying to catch up with how quickly the situation had flipped from panic to plans. “Skating, huh?”
Connor nodded furiously. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”
I glanced back at Harper. She was watching me with a hint of amusement, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth like even she couldn’t believe this was happening.
