Chapter 4 #2
"The corner office energy. Bridget has this theory about people who carry responsibility on their shoulders. She can spot it a mile away."
He looked genuinely surprised. "Ha. Yeah. I guess. Better than some other types of energy I’ve heard about."
I felt my cheeks warm. "Um. Yeah. Better than some, I'd say." I paused, watching Harper and Charisse execute what might have been an actual play. "So, do you like it? The architecture thing?"
He was quiet for a moment, and I thought maybe I'd overstepped. Then: "I used to. Now it feels more like I'm managing other people's visions instead of creating anything myself."
His voice went flat on 'visions,' and I recognized that particular brand of work exhaustion. I opened my mouth to ask more, but the buzzer sounded for halftime.
"Water run," Bridget announced, already standing. "You two want anything?"
"I'm good," I said.
"Same," Gavin added.
She gave us both a look that said she knew exactly what she was doing and headed down the bleachers.
"Your friend is not subtle," Gavin said once she was gone.
"Not even a little bit." I turned to face him more fully. "She thinks I need to get out more. Apparently my life has become work, her couch, and mandatory family dinners."
"What's wrong with that?"
"According to Bridget? Everything." I smiled despite myself. "What about you? What does your life look like outside of work and kids’ sports?"
"Honestly? Not that different. Work, Charisse, trying not to screw up the single dad thing too badly." He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter. "Though I wouldn’t mind it becoming a little more exciting."
I glanced at him, "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
When Bridget came back with her water, the second half started.
Harper's team was down by two points, and both girls were playing harder now, more focused.
I tried to watch the game, but I kept getting distracted by Gavin—the way he'd lean close to point something out, the quiet laugh when something funny happened on the court, the solid warmth of his leg against mine.
With two minutes left, Charisse stole the ball and fired a pass to Harper, who made a layup that tied the game. The crowd erupted.
In the final thirty seconds, Harper got the ball again and passed it back to Charisse at the top of the key.
The shot went in.
The gym exploded. I was on my feet without thinking, caught up in the moment. Harper and Charisse were jumping up and down, hugging each other while their teammates mobbed them.
"That was Charisse's first game-winner," Gavin said, grinning up at me.
"Harper's going to talk about this for weeks."
We stood there while the celebration washed over us, and when he looked up at me, something in his expression shifted. Got more serious.
"So, Um—" he said quietly. "Can I ask you something?"
My heart stopped. "Sure."
"Would you have dinner with me? Like an actual date?"
Every nerve in my body came alive at once. "You—really?"
"Really." The certainty in his voice made my knees weak. "I know we only just officially met, but I promise I’m not a serial killer. Bridget can vouch for me."
"Ha! Yes." The word came out before I could even think about playing it cool. "I'd really like that."
His smile could've powered the entire grid. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Tomorrow night?"
I laughed. "Oh! Um. Yeah. Okay."
He pulled out his phone. "Give me your number? Before you change your mind?"
I rattled off my number, watching him type it in. A second later, my phone buzzed.
"Now you have mine too," he said.
"Well done."
"Motivation will do that." He stood up, tucking his phone away. "I'll text you tonight with details?"
"Perfect."
Bridget materialized beside me, grinning as if she'd personally orchestrated world peace. "So? How was the game?"
I looked at her, confused. "You were here with me."
"Not Harper’s game. I’m talking about the other game happening here." She looked between us, taking in our stupid smiles and the fact that we were standing way too close. "Oh my God, you two are ridiculous. I'm a genius."
"Bridget—"
"What? You are! Look at you!" she was practically bouncing. "This is the best thing I've done all month."
Gavin laughed. "On that note. Good to see you, Bridget." He turned to me, "Talk to you soon?"
"Yeah. Okay. Sounds good." At that, he turned and walked toward his daughter, and looked back only once—meanwhile I couldn’t stop watching him.
"Oh, yeah. I am hot shit. You can name your first kid after me."
Ignoring her, years of friendship having taught me it’s the only way to deal with moments like these—when Bridget was high with excitement, we made our way down to where both teams were celebrating. Harper saw us coming and sprinted over, sweaty and beaming.
Harper slammed into my legs at full speed, her ponytail askew and face flushed bright pink. “Did you see? Did you see? Charisse made the winning shot!”
"We saw!" Bridget pulled her into a hug. "You were both amazing!"
Gavin was all of ten feet away, talking with an excited Charisse. He looked up and caught my eye over a sea of girls' heads and smiled—a private smile that felt like a promise.
I smiled back, my heart doing something absolutely ridiculous in my chest.
Bridget leaned close and whispered, "I told you. Hot single dads."
"You're the worst," I whispered back.
"I'm the best, and you know it."
I couldn't even argue.
She was absolutely right.