Chapter 10 #2
He chuckles as he parks his SUV just down from the taco truck.
“What can I say? When a pretty girl tells you about her life, you listen.” He reaches over the console, taps my nose with his index finger, which is accompanied by a wink, before grabbing his phone and keys and climbing out of the SUV, leaving me to scramble to catch up with him.
“I was getting your door,” he says, not really scolding me, but a soft reprimand in a way.
I wiggle my fingers in the air. “These things, hands and fingers, all working properly,” I tease.
“Come on, you.” He loops his arm around my shoulders, and together we walk to the taco truck.
Fifteen minutes later, tacos in hand, and two bottles of water shoved into the back pockets of his jeans, one in each side, we’re walking toward the stadium. “What’s it like inside?” I ask him.
He stops walking and turns to look at me. “The stadium?”
“Yeah.”
“Eden, have you never been in the stadium?” He points behind him.
“Nope.”
“You’ve never been to a football game?”
“Nope.”
“What about high school?”
“Nah, not many people wanted to be friends with the kid with no family. Carrie was pretty much my only friend. And I didn’t meet her until my eighteenth birthday, but you already knew that.”
“When is your birthday?”
“Next week. Friday.” I take another bite of my taco and look away.
“Your birthday is next week? When were you going to tell me?”
Is it just me, or is there a hint of hurt in his tone? “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“Eden, babe, it’s your birthday. Of course, it matters.”
“You know how it is, Foster. We didn’t have celebrations in foster homes.” I shrug. “My birthday has never been a big deal.”
“It’s a big fucking deal, Eden,” he counters.
“It’s not, but thank you for saying so.”
“It’s the small things in life. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that we have to take our wins, our smiles, and our chances for laughter when we can.”
“Carrie is having me over for dinner. The girls will have made me a present, and it’s a nice time. That’s how I’ve been spending my birthdays since I met Carrie.”
“We should have a party for you.”
I chuckle. “Well, I don’t really have a lot of friends—one plus her family, to be exact—so that would be a wasted effort.”
“What am I, chopped liver?” he asks.
“Fine, I have two friends.” I smile at him. My heart feels full just by spending this time with him. “No party.”
“No party,” he concedes. “But there will be presents. You can’t stop me from buying my friend a present.”
“That’s not necessary, Foster.”
“Oh, it’s necessary,” he says, tossing his empty wrapper into the trash can near the entrance of the stadium.
I quickly polish off the rest of mine and do the same as he hands me my bottle of water.
“Do you have anywhere that you need to be?” he asks.
“Here with you,” I say. The words slip out before I can comprehend what I said. “I just mean that I knew we were going to the home today, and I didn’t know how long we would stay, so I kept the rest of the day open.” Not that I have a packed social calendar or anything.
“Good. Come on.” Reaching out, he grabs my hand, lacing his fingers through mine, and leads me to the door of the stadium.
He tries the door, and it’s locked, so he pulls out his phone with one hand, taps the screen, and places it to his ear.
“Vaughn here. Want to let me in?” He laughs and listens.
“Yeah, southside entrance. Thanks, Harry,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
“We’re going inside?”
“Hell yes, we’re going inside, and as soon as the season starts, you’re coming to a game. You can sit with the wives of the guys, or I’ll get you as many tickets as you need to bring Carrie and her family with you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Oh, I’m doing it. I can’t have my best girl never going to a football game in her life. That’s just wrong, E. We need to fix that, pronto.”
The way he shortened my name to my first initial makes my chest warm and fuzzy, and I don’t know if he realized that he did it, but my heart caught on when he called me his best girl. This man, his words, his actions, he’s not helping my crush. Well, I guess in a way he is, but he shouldn’t be.
“Are we allowed?” I ask, my voice betraying the way he makes me feel.
He offers me a wolfish grin. “You’re with me, babe.
This is my stomping grounds. Of course, we’re allowed.
Harry is the head of maintenance, and he’s going to let us in.
He’s also best friends with Landry, and I have no doubt those two will be gossiping about our visit before the door closes behind us. ”
“Oh, we shouldn’t go in, then. I don’t want to make things hard for you.”
“Too late.” He smirks. “And we’re going in,” he says as soon as the door is pushed open. An older man greets us with a wide smile.
“Foster Vaughn, are you out causing trouble?” the man asks.
“Nah, you know me, Harry, I leave the trouble for your sidekick,” Foster tells him, and they both share a laugh. “This is Eden. Eden, this is Harry. Eden has never been to the stadium. Never seen a live game, but we’ll be fixing that as soon as the season starts.”
“Oh, girlie, you’re in for a treat,” Harry boasts.
“You two come on in, and just let me know when you leave. All the exterior entrance doors are locked, but I’ll be around if you need anything.
” Harry tips his hat to us, shoves his hands in his pockets, and moseys off, while whistling a tune I can’t name.
Foster, who is still holding my hand, gives it a soft squeeze. “You ready for a private tour?”
“Yes.” I smile widely. His enthusiasm is infectious, and how great is it that we’re here, all alone, well, aside from Harry? I never would have been able to experience something like this without Foster.
Three hours later, I’m exhausted but energized at the same time. When Foster said tour, he meant it. We’ve covered every inch of the stadium, including the locker room, offices, training rooms, and we even went out on the field, which was incredible.
“This is the suites. Knox is the quarterback, and it’s in his contract that he gets a suite, and he’s nice enough to share it with the four of us. The wives and kids sit up here, along with everyone’s families, when they can make it. Unless they decide to sit down in the action.” He winks.
“This is amazing. You can see everything.” I turn to glance at him over my shoulder to find his eyes on me. “Can you see everyone from down there?” I ask.
He nods. “If they’re close to the glass, yes, but not always. Honestly, I don’t look very often. When Coach and Hope come to games, they like to sit in the action, so I grab them tickets down there.” He steps beside me, places his hand on my hip, and points through the window to the seats.
“I’m glad you have them in the stands for you.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “This year, I’ll have you, too.”
The way he says it is so sure, and… proud that I turn to face him, and I can’t help myself. I rise on my toes and place my lips against his cheek. “I can’t wait to watch you play.”
He slides his hand behind my neck and angles my face so that I’m looking up at him. “You want to be up here or down there?” he asks.
“I want to be where you want me to be. I don’t want to be a distraction for you.”
He leans in close, his lips a breath from mine.
“Too late,” he whispers, just as his phone rings.
He steps back, and I release a staggered breath as he answers.
“Hey, Landry.” He smiles at me and mouths, “Told you so,” with a grin.
“Yeah, I’m at the stadium.” He slides his arm around my waist. “Yes, there’s a woman with me.
No, it’s not business.” His eyes find mine.
“It’s personal.” He chuckles at whatever Landry says.
“We’ll see. I gotta go. I have company.” He doesn’t wait for a reply before ending the call and sliding his phone back into his pocket.
“We should head out,” he says, guiding us to the door with his arm still around my waist. When we step out of the suite, Harry is there, pushing a cleaning cart. “We’re heading out,” Foster tells him.
“You kids have a good rest of your day. Miss Eden, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
“You, too, Harry.” I smile at him.
Foster leads us outside and back to his car. He opens the door for me and waits for me to get buckled in before driving me home.
When I make it into my apartment, I move toward the window and wave. He honks, sticks his hand out the window with a wave, and drives away. I’m pretty sure if Landry hadn’t called when he did, Foster was going to kiss me.
I really wanted him to kiss me.