Page 76 of Too Safe

Locking eyes with Decker as the elevator doors slide open, I deadpan, “Go Crusaders.”

Chapter 30

Josephine

Blinkingbehindmysunglasses,I crane my neck and scan the stands for Hunter. She swears she’s standing up and waving, and I think I’m looking in the right section, but I still haven’t spotted her. I already explained to her that I’m one of the team photographers, so I’d be on the field for most of the game.

There’s so much commotion surrounding our spot on the bench I don’t notice the people approaching until they’re within earshot.

“Sweetheart!”

The speaker isn’t just calling out to me; she’s reaching out, arms fully extended, with a grin plastered to her face. Caught off guard and more than a little confused, I take a step back. It’s not until she’s within arm’s reach that I realize her sights aren’t set on me. No, she’s going right for Kylian.

He lets out a quiet, rumbling “hi” as he returns her affection with a one-armed squeeze. Hilariously, he hasn’t taken his eyes off the field.

Swiping quickly through screens on one of his devices, he asks, “How did you guys get down here?”

“Decker surprised us!” the other woman in the group squeals, her hands clasped in front of her chest. “Misty texted and said to meet her at will call, then handed us field passes for today.”

“We never get these at away games,” one of the men marvels, holding out the pass attached to the red and white Crusaders lanyard hanging around his neck.

The hug. The intimate familiarity. If I didn’t know any better, I would suspect…

“Jo, these are my parents, Charlie and Claudia Walsh. And those are Locke’s parents, Brenda and Gary Marshall.” When I turn to him, wide-eyed, he’s already looking up from the screen and scanning my face.

“I was planning to meet up with them after the game,” he offers, holding my gaze for two more beats before focusing on setup again.

Kylian wasn’t expecting them down here. Decker surprised them with passes…

And here I am, mouth agape, rocking my short shorts, with Kylian’s name embossed on the back of my jersey.

Touché, Crusade. Tou-fucking-ché.

“I didn’t catch your name, dear,” Brenda says to me.

I never asked Locke if he kept in touch with his foster parents. Seeing them here, at his game, inspires an ache in the hollow of my chest.

“I’m Joey,” I offer, hand outstretched. “I know Locke from school,” I offer weakly, sparing these people insight into just how intertwined my life has become with their son’s.

Brenda takes my hand but quickly pulls me into one of the warmest, longest hugs I think I’ve ever received. I’m thoroughly embarrassed by the time I try and wiggle free. “Any friend of Locke’s is a friend of ours,” she tells me.

When I finally start to pull away, a gasp sounds behind me.

“Heavens! Where did you get that?”

My cheeks heat, likely flushing to a shade that matches the Crusaders jersey I’m wearing as I slowly turn to face Claudia. I look to Kylian for help, but he’s focused on his tablet. I’ve never once begrudged him his intense commitment to his role on the team, but I have to fight back the urge to kick him in the shin and get his attention. I could use an assist right about now.

Shifting from hip to hip, I bite down on my lower lip and laugh uncomfortably.

“Um, well, I had it custom made, actually, because Kylian’s my favorite player.” The shtick seems far less funny now that I have to explain it to his parents. Fucking Decker…

“What’s the number on the back? Is that supposed to be ano?” Claudia presses.

“Sigma, Mom. It’s a Greek letter used to symbolize standard deviation,” Kylian interjects.

Finally. I try to catch his eye, but he’s already turned back to the field.

“Because Kylian does the stats…” I reason.

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