Chapter 12 #2
Okay? Sure, I suggested the idea to the owner to get Savannah more business, but my efforts haven’t been entirely selfless. Savannah bringing meals for the team means time she’ll spend in my corner of Los Angeles, and nothing has ever sounded more appealing.
The only time things feel right is when I’m with her.
“No problem,” I say with a poorly casual tone that won’t be earning me any acting awards. “But you won’t see much of me for the next two weeks.”
Looking up, she stares at me with worry in her eyes. “What? Why?”
I shrug, wincing when a sharp pain shoots through my shoulder. “Because I’ve been suspended. Not just from games but from practice.”
“Because of your shoulder?”
“Because I was an idiot.”
With the way she bites her lip to hide a smile, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve had things all wrong when it comes to dating.
Not that I’m hoping to date Savannah, or anyone for that matter; I still have a bet to win and a country to return to.
But if a self-deprecating bit of honesty can elicit that tempting smile, I may never rely on my ego again to try to impress Savannah Blair.
Ever since I got to California, my ego has done nothing but get in my way.
“I’ve been reckless,” I say, though the words aren’t going to do me any favors. “And Coach was right to pull me off the line until I can get my head on straight. So I’ll have to wait to enjoy whatever you make for the team.”
Her eyebrows rise, a thoughtful look on her face. “So you’re free tomorrow night?”
“Er, yeah.” But why would she want to know that? She’s not asking me out, is she? I stand a little taller, lifting Beef up to my shoulders where he drapes himself around the back of my neck like an overly fuzzy scarf. “Why?”
“Because Mrs. Shafer invited me to a networking event that her company is putting on tomorrow.”
The sound of my mum’s name leaves me queasier than I’d like—or that could be disappointment settling heavy inside me—and I have no idea how our conversation turned from my idiocy to Lola. “Okay?”
“Maybe…” She turns scarlet and bites her bottom lip again. “Maybe you should come with me.”
“Why would I—” I cut myself off when I realize what she’s saying, and nerves pool in my belly. It’s a perfect chance to get face-to-face with Lola. This is what I was hoping for, so why am I suddenly so anxious? “Oh.”
Savannah frowns. “Oh? That’s all you’ve got? I’ve been stressing over a way to get you two in the same place without risking my business relationship with her, and now that I finally—”
“Thank you.” I reach across the island that separates us and put my hand on her forearm. “I’m processing, I guess. I’d sort of resigned myself to having to figure that part out on my own.”
“Wow.” Though she narrows her eyes at me, there’s enough of a smile on her lips to keep me from worrying I’ve bungled everything. “You thought I’d go back on our deal? You weren’t technically the one who connected me to Cole, but you were the reason I ran into him. I think that counts, don’t you?”
Our deal. The whole reason we’ve stayed in each other’s lives.
Once I talk to Lola, there won’t be anything keeping us together.
“Why would I go to the event?” I flinch when her expression falls, and I soften my tone. “I mean, if I’m going to casually run into Lola, I should have a reason to be there, shouldn’t I? Unless you want her to think you brought me just for her.”
“Yeah, I’d feel better if you had a reason for being there that isn’t just trying to get face-to-face with your mom,” she says, dropping her gaze to her arm, which I’m still touching. She almost looks confused, enough so that I pull my hand back.
Clearing my throat, I fold my arms before I think about touching her again. “So what’s my reason?”
She looks up, turning pink. “I don’t know. I got you the opportunity; you can find a way to make it work.”
I chuckle. “Make it work? At a networking thing? Love, you know me well enough by now to know that people aren’t my forte.”
“But you were great with Blaze on Monday.”
“Blaze?” I wrinkle my nose, remembering how awkward I felt during the whole conversation. “All I did was give my kid brother some pointers for a game I know nothing about. That doesn’t make me a regular charmer.”
She rolls her eyes. “I still think you said the right thing to him, whatever it was. I’ve never seen him that hopeful.”
It’s hard to believe I didn’t make a mess of everything by having that conversation I’d promised not to have. “Something tells me a business mixer isn’t going to have many opportunities for talking footy, or any other sport for that matter.”
“You never know.” Her lips twist up in a smirk, sparking a fire to life in my chest, and the only thing keeping me from getting closer is the fuzzball on my shoulders and the food stretched between us.
In fact, I reckon I’m too close as it is, and I take a step back, checking for any cat hairs in the ingredients on the countertop. “There must be some sort of health code you’re violating with Beef here,” I remark, reaching up to pat the cat’s head.
He snores in my ear as a response.
She gives me a calculating look, like she isn’t sure she wants to let me change the subject, then sighs heavily. “If I could afford an industrial kitchen space, I would do it in a heartbeat.”
My thoughts stray to the rarely used kitchen in my pristine flat. How much more space she would have if she… Dangerous thinking, Callahan. “So why get a cat in the first place?”
She grumbles something unintelligible, and when I raise an eyebrow at her, she repeats herself louder. “I was lonely, and a cat sounded easier than a boyfriend.”
Any man would be lucky to take Beef’s place, and any boyfriend worth his salt would make her life easier, not harder. “But you’ve dated, yeah?” I shouldn’t hate that idea as much as I do.
Snickering, Savannah grabs a clean knife and cutting board and starts shopping a large head of broccoli into pieces.
“I moved from South Carolina at eighteen and had to work two jobs to afford school and rent, and I’ve been using all my time to build True Fuel ever since. I don’t have time for dating.”
I knew she wasn’t rolling in riches, but paying for everything herself? That’s a lot of pressure. “Your family couldn’t help you?”
She snorts. “Wouldn’t.”
I hate that more than the thought of her dating someone. “Why not?”
“Because I’ve been chasing a silly dream instead of living the life of a Southern trophy wife like the generations before me.
” There’s a lilt to her words as she says this.
I’ve caught hints of an accent before, but never this strong.
It would be adorable if it wasn’t clear she’s not expressing her own opinion but her family’s.
I narrow my eyes at her. “You know that’s a load of rubbish, right?”
Her lips pinch together in an amused smile as she meets my gaze, and that Southern lilt still softens her words as she says, “Oh, I know. That’s just what my mama would tell you if you asked her why she and my daddy cut me off.
But oh, if I found myself a fancy billionaire to put a sparkly ring on my finger so I don’t have to work anymore, they’d welcome me back with open arms.”
No matter how hard I try, I can’t picture Savannah playing the demure housewife.
She’s too stubborn. Spunky. Sassy. “I’d hate to see your fire snuffed out just for you to get your family’s approval,” I tell her with all the sincerity I can muster.
“Maybe there’s a billionaire out there who’d see your drive as a good thing. ”
She laughs. “Too bad you’re just a millionaire, huh?”
I freeze. There are two important conjectures I can make from that comment, and I gape at her for a second as I process them.
One, she knows—or made a suspiciously confident guess of—my net worth, which likely means she’s done some research.
Two, there’s a chance she’s imagined a future between the two of us if she’s disappointed that I don’t make the cut.
You’re going back to Aus in a few months, a voice in the back of my head tells me, but it’s easy to ignore. “You looked me up,” I say. “You came to my match, figured out what position I play, and now you’re telling me you looked deep enough to know what I earned back in Australia.”
Savannah’s expression is perfectly disinterested, but she can’t hide the blush creeping up her neck as she stares back at me. “Can’t blame a girl for being curious,” she mumbles.
“There’s curious, and then there’s interested. You’re interested in me, Savannah.” It sounds more like an accusation than the question it should be; I can’t fully believe my own words. After all my idiocy, I haven’t scared her away.
Savannah’s jaw drops open. “I am not in—”
“You like me.” How?
“Let’s get back to talking about the event tomorrow.” She’s full crimson-cheeked now, and I notice she doesn’t deny my claim about her affection.
But what am I supposed to do with that? It’s one thing to accept that I’m in deep water where my interest is concerned, but if she’s going to reciprocate, then… Then that makes this all so much harder. I can survive unrequited feelings, but how do I walk away if Savannah wants me to stay?
It’s going to hurt.
Hurt us both.
“And no,” Savannah says before I can come up with a response. “I don’t like you, Logan. Not yet.”
Not yet. I can’t decide if that’s better or worse, but I’m going to stick to her assertion, regardless if it’s true. “Good,” I grunt and stuff my hands into my pockets. “I’d be a terrible person to like, and I think too highly of myself as it is. Don’t need to go thinking I’m in your league.”
She bites her lip a third time, and desire burns through me, complete with imagining taking that lip between my own teeth. Wrapping my hands around her waist. Kissing a line from her jaw down her neck.
More than that, I want to carry her heavy things. Make her life easier. Give her whatever she needs to make her business thrive so I can see her smile more often.
She doesn’t do that enough.
“Logan.”
Whatever she might say, I can’t stick around to listen.
Not unless she’s ready to help me turn my fantasies into reality, which she isn’t.
Not yet. “I’ll be your assistant tomorrow,” I tell her, taking two backward steps toward the door.
“That’ll work, yeah?” Realizing there’s still a cat draped on my shoulders, I grab him and ignore his yowling complaint as I set him on the ground.
“Tell me where to go and when to be there.”
Then I slip through her door and pull it shut behind me, keeping my hand on the doorknob as if she might come chasing after me.
I came here tonight to apologize and make sure she’s on her way to get everything she wants, but I’m leaving with a feeling foreign enough that I’m almost afraid to put a word to it:
Hope.