Page 78 of A False Start
“I don’t want this to end.” Her voice is so small that I barely hear her. The confession makes my heart twist. “This weekend, I mean.”
Right.
“Wanna go for a stupid coffee and hear about how riveting playing the same golf course every damn day is?”
Her smile is soft as her car accelerates beneath my foot.
“Yeah. A stupid coffee sounds great.”
26
Griffin
I knockon the door and wait, right as I remember my mom whispered something in Nadia’s ear last time we were here. Right before we left.
“What did my mom whisper to you last time you saw her?”
Nadia looks up at me, her pinky finger grazing against mine before she steps just a little further away from me, clearly not ready to waltz in there acting like we’re an item. “She told me I’m the only person she’s never seen you stutter around.”
My mind reels as I try to think about it. Have I tripped over a single goddamn word in her presence in the last couple of days? I can’t seem to drum up the memory. But surely, I must have. There’s just no way that—
The door swings open. Tripod yaps once at my feet and then takes off into the condo like he owns the fucking place.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Tripod! Griffy!” My mom’s arms shoot out wide as she wraps them around me. Then the volume of her squealing increases, which means she must have spotted Nadia standing behind me.
“Nadia, honey! How nice to see you again.” I swear my mom shoves me out of the way so she can hug Nadia, which makes her laugh and mouthI think she loves me moreover my mother’s shoulder before she pulls away to take us both in.
“It’s nice to see you again, too, Joan. Griffin hasn’t stopped talking about how much he loves your pour-over coffee, so we just had to swing by.”
Brat.
My mom smiles wide, giving me a skeptical glance. She knows Nadia is full of shit but likes that she’s giving me a hard time. “It’s the flavor, isn’t it, darling?”
“Yeah, Mom. It’s really good,” I say right as my cap is ripped off my head and my dad’s huge mitt of a hand lands to ruffle my hair.
“Hey, Kid. And Nadia! What a pleasant surprise.” My parents exchange a look that is far too excited. I guess when you haven’t brought a girl around in thirty-five years, twice in a row seems like a big deal.
Nadia catches my eye and winks.
I swallow. She’s a huge fucking deal.
“Okay, to the living room we go. Pre-season is on Griff. You wanna stay for a game?”
I almost groan. Watching professional football since the demise of my role in it hasn’t been very high on my to-do list. I love the game. Imissthe game. And watching it is like twisting a knife into my chest. But my dad is so genuine in his excitement. He put so many years into supporting me, showing up to my games, watching game tape with me, and so much more. It’s almost cruel to him that I made it big and now hardly even recognize the sport still exists.
“Yeah, Dad. That sounds great.”
He claps his hands together, and we all make our way down the hallway to the open living space.
“What’s your team, Nadia?” he asks as she curls up in a large armchair across from me. I scowl because she belongs in my lap, not across the room.
“Sorry?” she asks, tucking her legs underneath herself. Tripod hops up, spins a quick circle, and then presses himself against her. I sigh contentedly at the sight of the two of them there together. A dog I ran over and a girl who ran me over.
“Football? Who is your favorite football team?”
“Oh, gosh. I don’t know. Where I come from, football is what you call soccer.”
