Chapter 9
Make friends with a football player, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.
Addy
I scan the crowd for Gage. Kick-off is in fifteen minutes. I thought he’d be here by now.
Of course, I could have helped and told him where the football fields are and when the game begins. But this is more fun! And maybe, just maybe, I want him to prove he wants to spend time with me.
Trust in men doesn’t come easy to me. All the previous men in my life haven’t lasted. Not even my dad.
“Who are you looking for?” Mila asks.
“Mom said she’s working,” Penelope adds but she doesn’t bother to glance up from the book she’s reading on artificial diamonds. She’s too smart for this island.
“I’m not looking for Mom. I’m expecting a friend to join us.”
“Who?”
I groan. Mila is in a stage where she has to know everything about everyone. She loves to ask questions and she doesn’t know when to stop. I try not to let it irritate me, but I don’t succeed often. I thought this stage ended when she turned three. I was wrong.
I spot Gage making his way through the crowd and stand to wave at him. He smiles and my stomach dips. This handsome, successful, vibrant man is smiling at me. And ignoring the crowd around him.
“Who’s he?” Mila asks.
Penelope looks up from her book. “He’s very tall.”
Gage reaches us and I nearly step forward to hug him in greeting. I lock my limbs before I throw myself at him. I am not some football junkie.
“Hi, songbird.” He kisses my cheek. My skin tingles from the tiny contact. How would it feel if he touched more sensitive parts of my body with his lips?
“Are these your sisters?”
I clear my throat and force sexy thoughts out of my mind.
“This is Mila, and this is Penelope,” I make the introductions. “Mila, Penelope, this is Gage.”
“Do you know the sale of blood diamonds finances armed conflicts in Africa?”
I groan at Penelope’s question.
Gage frowns. “I do know about blood diamonds.”
Penelope holds up her book. “I’m reading about artificial diamonds.”
“Good.” He nods. “You’ll have to tell me your conclusions when you finish.”
“I will.” She sits down and returns to her book .
“And we’ve lost her for the next hour or so,” I mutter.
“I brought coffee for you and lemonade for your sisters.”
Mila claps at his announcement. “Strawberry?”
“Parker said it’s your favorite.”
“Her favorite she’s only allowed to have on special occasions,” I add.
“This is a special occasion. She gets to meet me.”
I roll my eyes. “Conceited much?”
“Making a friend is a special occasion.”
I sigh. He has a point. I’m not going to win this conversation. “Fine. She can have it and whatever treat you brought her. But don’t get mad when I phone you at two a.m. to complain she’s bouncing off the walls.”
“You can call me whenever you want.” His brown eyes darken and the green flecks sparkle as he meets my gaze. My body warms at the promise in his eyes.
Friends. We’re friends. Nothing more.
“Otis is playing,” Mila says and the spell is broken. “He’s my big brother.”
“He is?” Gage asks as he sits down next to me and hands out the drinks and treats.
“He’s the oldest at seventeen. Penelope is fourteen. And I’m eight.”
He widens his eyes. “You’re eight? I thought you were at least nine.”
Mila giggles. “You’re silly. ”
The whistle blows to indicate the game is about to begin. Gage leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. His eyes are sharp as he focuses on the field.
I elbow him. “It’s just a youth game.”
“Songbird, football is never just a game.”
I roll my eyes.
“What position does Otis play?” he asks during kick-off.
“Running back.”
Gage grins. “My position.”
The offensive team charges onto the field and Mila jumps to her feet. “Otis! Otis! Otis!”
Otis waves before he lines up for the play to begin. Gage doesn’t move as he watches the drive start. His knee bounces up and down as he follows the drive. Otis’s team easily gains ten yards and the drive continues.
The quarterback gets sacked on the fourth down and the drive ends. Gage scowls. “He’s tipping his run. Same speed every time. Same angle. Too honest.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He motions to the field. “Otis is hitting the hole at full speed immediately every time.”
“And this is bad?”
“Yeah. This is bad.”
“Go tell him.”
His brow wrinkles. “You said I’m not allowed to comment.”
“If the ref makes a bad call. This isn’t the ref making a bad call. It’s you helping my brother to become a better football player. ”
“I’d love to give him some pointers.”
Those words hit me in the chest and spread warmth throughout my body. Otis has never had a male father figure to help him with football. And Gage is stepping in without a blink of an eye. He isn’t merely some football jock.
I stand. “I’ll introduce you.”
I follow him down the bleachers to the fence. I motion Otis over.
“This is—”
“I know who he is.”
Gage offers him his hand. “Gage Edwards.”
“Otis.”
“Do you mind if I give you a tip?”
Otis’s eyes light up. “Hell no.”
“Language,” I mutter.
“Addy, this is Gage Edwards. The best running back in the league. And he’s giving me a tip.”
“Which is no excuse to swear.”
Gage squeezes my shoulder. “Back to football. You’re explosive and strong.”
“But?”
“You’re hitting the hole at full speed. Defenders can read you too easily. It’s why you’re getting stopped for short gains or tackled hard. You don’t have to win the play in the first step.”
Otis hangs off every word Gage says. “What should I do?”
“Slow down for half a second. Let them commit. Then go.”
Otis nods. “Okay.”
“Make them think you’re going left. Even when you’re not. ”
“Thanks. Will you watch the rest of the game?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Except when Gage says those words, he’s not looking at my little brother. He’s staring into my eyes.
Gage tips his chin toward the bench. “Get back to your team. We’ll see you after.”
Otis dashes off and Gage grasps my hand to lead me up the bleachers to our spot. He doesn’t let go of my hand for the rest of the game. I should tell him friends don’t hold hands. I should remind him of the boundaries I’ve set. But I’m enjoying the feel of his hand in mine too much.
The final whistle blows and Gage jumps to his feet. “He won!” He claps and whistles.
“You’re acting like a fan.”
“Because I am a fan. Football is life.”
“No,” Penelope disagrees. “Life isa complex, carbon-based process defined by self-sustaining biological systems.”
Gage smiles at her. “You are correct.”
Penelope sniffs and tilts her nose in the air. “I usually am.”
“Penelope is a nerd,” Mila sings.
“I am not a nerd.”
My sisters start to bicker and I groan. “Enough! Penelope, escort Mila to the car. I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
Penelope huffs, but she doesn’t hesitate to do as I say. I keep my eye on them as they walk through the crowd until they reach my car.
“Thanks for coming,” I tell Gage.
“Thanks for inviting me. ”
“You invited yourself.”
He shrugs. “Same thing.”
“I need to get the girls home.” I push up on my toes to kiss his cheek. He smells of sunshine and sandalwood. I take a deep breath and inhale the scent into my lungs. “See you around.”
He shackles my wrist before I can escape. “Hold on. I haven’t given you your surprise yet.”
“You gave me a coffee and a cookie.”
“Those weren’t your surprise.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Coffee and cookies are always a good surprise.”
He smiles and his dimple makes an appearance. “Good to know.” He digs out his phone. “But I have an even better surprise.”
“If it’s an image of you dressed up as a mermaid, save it.”
He chuckles. “It’s not, but if you want me to dress up as a mermaid, I will.”
“No, thanks. The mermaids would fight over you and no one enjoys a fighting mermaid. They’re mean fighters. Fair isn’t in their playbook.”
“Okay. No dressing up as a mermaid.” He waves his phone at me. “How about the number of a music producer instead?”
“Music producer?” My brow wrinkles. “Who are you talking about?”
“Someone in the music business I’ve met before. Jerry can help you. Once he hears your music, he’ll jump at the chance.”
“Are you serious? ”
“It’ll be great. You can sell your music. Or maybe produce a song of your own. You’ll be more famous than me in no time.”
I fist my hands on my hips. “You are unbelievable.”
The smile dies on his lips. “What?”
“You think because you’re some hotshot football player, you can stroll into my life and take over? Think again, hotshot. Think again.”
“You’re mad?”
“What was your first clue? How I’m imagining eviscerating you? Or how my foot is itching to kick you in the balls?”
“I thought you’d be excited.”
“Excited? By you trying to run my life? I think not. We’re done here.” I whirl around and march away.
“Addy!”
I ignore him. I’m such an idiot. Why did I think I could be friends with a famous football player? He’s not interested in me. He’s interested in controlling my life. Screw him! I’m in charge of my life. Not some football player who doesn’t understand the first thing about me.
And to think I was excited to see him today. I should know better by now.