Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
The final whistle blew.
Thirty thousand people lifted into a roar, and Aspen sprang from her seat with her arms over her head as she cheered. The Wave had won.
The players who had been on the bench in front of them sprinted onto the field, leaping into the arms of their teammates.
Maddy was clapping and cheering alongside her. And she was laughing. The loose, unguarded laugh Aspen had only heard once in the past fifteen years—two weeks ago at The Huxley, when Maddy had been with Jake and Aspen had been crawling out of her skin. And tonight, she had heard it four times.
Witnessing that laugh as an outside observer had always had the power to undo Aspen, but being on the receiving end of it—being the one who caused it—that was an entirely different drug. And Aspen was addicted.
She could admit she hadn’t been entirely professional in Maddy’s presence tonight. But the unprofessionalism had been working.
She had leaned in close to Maddy to point out a player, and Maddy hadn’t pulled back.
Then she did it again just to make sure the first time hadn’t been a fluke.
She had smiled at Maddy in a way she knew showed how smitten she was, and Maddy had smiled back.
She had placed her hand on Maddy’s hip and pressed her lips right up against Maddy’s ear so Maddy could hear her over the crowd, and even with the vibrating stadium, she felt the tiny shiver that ran through Maddy’s body when she did.
She still couldn’t believe that last part. Or any of it, really. That Maddy seemed receptive, and even reciprocal at times, to Aspen’s flirtations and touching.
The night was going almost too well. Aspen had to consciously force herself to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Since Wednesday night, Aspen had pictured every possible mood Maddy might have brought with her tonight and rehearsed how she would handle each one. Not one of those rehearsals had been useful, because this version of Maddy was not one she could have prepared for.
And Aspen was not quite ready for the night to end.
“Hey, there’s an afterparty at Cutwater Bar,” Aspen nodded to the platform under the scoreboard, “and the parking lot’s going to be a zoo right now…
would you wanna grab another beer while we wait for it to clear out? Now that I’m officially off-duty.”
Half-flirtation, half-logistics. Because this was still Maddy Sterling, and she didn’t want to press her luck that Maddy would willingly agree to extend their date without the anonymity of getting lost in a crowd of matching jerseys.
Not that she was sure this even was a date. But it definitely felt like one to her after how things had been going for the past two hours.
“Sure,” Maddy said with a smirk.
Butterflies erupted in Aspen’s stomach. Sure.
That was definitely an upgrade from okay, right?
Even with the practical element added in, Aspen was certain that this time Maddy had understood exactly what she was saying with the invitation.
That she wanted to spend more time with Maddy, one-on-one, over drinks, when she wasn’t technically working. A date. And Maddy had said sure.
Aspen might not even need to take the stairs; she felt like she could just float up to the bar.
* * *
The lot was mostly empty by the time they exited the stadium over an hour later.
A few other stragglers drifted back to their cars. A couple of tailgate parties were still celebrating at the far end of the lot. And the opposing team was finishing loading onto their bus.
“I have to admit,” Maddy bumped Aspen’s shoulder, “the chaos jersey grew on me.”
“It does that,” Aspen said with a grin as she let her own shoulder bump back.
There had been moments like this all night.
The afterparty had been more crowded than Aspen was expecting, but it ended up working in her favor.
Aspen bought their beers, and they elbowed their way to the edge of the platform overlooking the stadium.
They stood close, facing each other as they talked, occasionally being bumped into by a drunk fan.
Every time it happened, they balanced themselves with a hand on the other’s hip, which lingered long after balance had been restored.
She had counted three different moments when Maddy’s eyes had dropped to Aspen’s lips.
Aspen’s SUV chirped as she unlocked it with the fob. She walked around to the passenger side with Maddy a half-step behind her and pulled the door open.
She knew it was a risky move, big date energy, but she had been batting a thousand all night.
Maddy paused, looking at the door and then at Aspen, as if she were processing the gesture that had no possible pretense. Aspen held her breath.
Maddy took a step closer and stood at the threshold of the open passenger door, studying Aspen. “Thanks,” she said finally, then started to turn to climb inside.
Aspen’s hand moved on instinct, and she gently caught Maddy’s wrist. “Maddy.” She waited for Maddy’s eyes to meet hers. “I’m really glad you came tonight.” She brushed her thumb lightly along Maddy’s wrist, heart racing.
Maddy looked up at her. She turned her body to face Aspen and opened her mouth slightly, like she was about to say something, but nothing came out. Her eyes flicked down to Aspen’s mouth.
Aspen swallowed and took a half-step closer.
The gap between them shortened to inches.
Aspen could feel Maddy’s warm breath on her lips.
She could smell Maddy’s perfume. Her heart raced as she tentatively moved her hand from Maddy’s wrist to her waist, gently pulling her closer. Maddy started to close the gap—
A car horn went off. Loud. Twenty feet away. Both of them jumped and stepped apart.
“Go around! Go around!” A man in a Wave-staff polo was two rows over, arm swinging, gesturing at a Porsche that had pulled up behind the tour bus that was now reversing. The Porsche driver lay on the horn again. The Wave employee continued windmilling. “Go around!”
Maddy inhaled sharply. She did not look at Aspen as she turned away and lowered herself into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut behind her.
Aspen let out a breath. The horn was still going, and she watched the Wave employee finally get the Porsche to back up to where it could swing wide. It finally whipped around the bus and sped out of the lot.
The interruption had not been ideal, but she couldn’t find it within herself to be that upset. Not when Maddy Sterling had just almost kissed her.
* * *
The drive back had been quiet. Not the same kind of quiet it had been on the way to the stadium four hours ago—the white-knuckled, please-don’t-fuck-this-up, every-stoplight-too-long kind of quiet where she’d been mentally workshopping opening lines the whole way, and discarding all of them.
This had been a nicer kind of quiet. The kind where neither of them felt the need to fill the space.
It hadn’t been completely silent. There had been light small talk about the game and their “Firework Treasure Hunt” as Bunny called it, coming up the following weekend.
Aspen’s pulse sped up just at the thought of it.
Another whole day of alone time with Maddy, driving around San Diego together on a shared mission. Maybe she’d even let her hold her hand.
Aspen turned onto Bunny’s street, and her pulse sped up another notch because she had every intention of walking Maddy up to the door. Where, hopefully, she’d get another chance at that kiss.
Then Bunny’s driveway came into view, and she saw her father’s pickup parked beside Bunny’s red convertible. Aspen’s stomach dropped. Oh no. No no no.
She barely resisted the urge to slam on the brakes in the middle of the residential street, gliding to a stop along the curb instead.
“Is your dad here?” She could hear the confusion in Maddy’s voice.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Aspen kept her hand on the gear shift after she pushed it into park. “Yeah. Looks like it.”
Maddy got out of the SUV. Aspen got out too, her heart racing for an entirely different reason than the one she was expecting on this walk as she followed Maddy to the door.
With any luck, their parents were sitting at the dining room table, sharing a completely innocent late dinner that her dad had come over to cook for Bunny, like any good neighbor would do with two decades of friendship under their belt.
Maddy pushed inside and then froze. Aspen held her breath as she followed her in.
Fuck.
Bunny was on the sofa, leaning into Olly, one hand on his chest. His arm around her shoulders.
Their faces inches apart. His other hand was lifted to her hair, gently stroking it behind her ears.
They were talking in low voices. Bunny’s Bluetooth speaker was playing romantic jazz. Two wine glasses on the coffee table.
They hadn’t heard the door open.
“What the fuck is this?” Maddy bit out.
Aspen could see only the back of Maddy’s head, but she didn’t need to see Maddy’s face to know she was pissed.
Of course Bunny chose this night of all nights to stop hiding her secret relationship. The relationship she had still not told Maddy about and had specifically asked Aspen not to mention.
Bunny’s head snapped toward them, and her face dropped. Olly’s hand fell away from Bunny’s hair.
Maddy didn’t move.
Bunny’s hands lifted, palms up. “Maddy, darling—”
“How long has this been going on?” Maddy cut her off.
“We were going to—” Bunny’s tone was devoid of her usual brightness.
“How long?” Maddy’s voice got louder. More lethal.
Bunny’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “Three years.” A pause. “We were going to tell you.”
“We didn’t want you to find out like this.” Her dad kept his voice gentle and steady, the way he always did when he was trying to defuse a situation. “We—”
Maddy lifted a hand to stop him. “Please stop saying we.”
Olly’s mouth closed. And then Maddy turned to Aspen. “Did you know?”
Aspen didn’t flinch or hesitate. “Yes.”
Maddy let out a huff of air and shook her head. “Of course you did.”