The crutches are a little short for me, but I’ll make an adjustment once I get back to the training center.
“Is your leg going to be okay? When did you hurt it?”
I look at Rush, then back to Tiger.
“It’s an old college injury that sometimes acts up.”
“You were an athlete?”
“I was a volleyball player.”
“I can totally see that. I bet you were good.”
“She was great,” Rush gushes.
“Now I understand how you and our boy here met,” Tiger says. He seems to be pleased with this recent information about us. “So, Mia, I’m going to this fundraising thing in two weeks and was wondering if you might want to come with me?”
“What kind of fundraiser?”
“I’m an ambassador for an organization that’s dedicated to eradicating child hunger in New York City. They’re hosting a celebrity softball game at Yankee Stadium. It’s pretty low key. I’d do an early morning here and then go there in the afternoon.”
“And you want me to go?”
“I don’t like to go to those things alone. It would be nice to have a friend along.”
“Is this a date?” I joke.
Tiger looks at Rush whose mouth is in a tight, straight line and then back at me.
“We don’t have to put a name on it. Just thought we could hang.”
“Sure, I’d love to. Let’s exchange information.”
After about fifteen minutes, Rush has said little of anything to either of us as we finish the rest of our dinner. He’s been watching Carter run his sprints with a careful eye, shoveling hummus in his mouth, completely eating his dinner out of food group order.
When he finally speaks again, it’s to only say five words to me and then he takes off jogging cross field.
“I’ll see you tonight, Bird.”
Twenty
MIA
Every single timeI pull up to Rush’s impressive circular stone driveway, I’m always in awe, as if it’s the first time I’m visiting. I feel as if I’m on a tour of Hollywood’s celebrity homes. There are carefully manicured bushes and ornamental shrubs which flank the front of the property, and his doorbell has the longest chime I’m ever heard, with seven specific bell tones that take forever to finish ringing. It’s definitely a house that saysI’ve arrived, but it still makes me wonder, why would a single man live in an enormous mansion like this that stays empty half of the year?
Rush answers the door shirtless, in basketball shorts, with a layer of sweat all over his face. I work with half-naked athletes every day, but there’s a part of me that makes me want to avert my eyes because there’s something about seeing Rush half-clothed that feels intimate and private, or else I’m just hopelessly horny.
“Hey.”
“Uh, hey yourself. You remembered I was coming tonight, right?”
“I was just working on some core exercises before you got here.”
“Are you going to shower?”
“Who showers before yoga, Mia? Just come inside.”
“That doorbell of yours is something. When did you get that?”
