CHAPTER 16
Klein
“Are there naked girls over there?”
My head whips to the asker of the nonsense question. It’s my boss, Jeremiah, who is also my soccer teammate. “What?” I ask, a hard enunciation on thet.
Jeremiah’s chin is lifted, his eyebrows raised. He has hair the color of a flaming hot Cheeto, and freckles from head to toe. He shoulders into me. “You missed a pass because you were looking at the sidelines.Again.”
I shake my head in remorse. “Sorry.”
“Are you expecting someone?”
Another head shake. “No.”
The game is half over, and Paisley still isn’t here. No reason to tell Jeremiah about her now. He’d give me all kinds of shit for being stood up.
Jeremiah lopes off to retrieve the soccer ball from where it rolled after I missed it.
I shouldn’t have expected Paisley would come tonight, even though she said she would. It was dumb of me to invite her in the first place. I’d been high on happiness, oncatching a glimpse of her cheering on Oliver, and I’d overstepped. The invitation I’d extended her had nothing to do with getting to know each other better, and she sensed it.
“Get your head in the game,” Jeremiah instructs, placing it on the sidelines for Dad Bod’s throw in. “We can’t let these middle-aged men win. We’re young, we’re strong.” He flexes his biceps and grunts.
“In case you’ve missed it, they want it more than we do. The will to win makes them more formidable than your arm muscles.”
Jeremiah jogs backward, pointing at my chest. “An attitude like that ensures you will be a loser.”
Taking my place on the field, I do everything I can to push Paisley from my mind. We’re exchanging favors, nothing more and nothing less. It shouldn’t matter that she no-showed.
I play the next thirty minutes with supreme focus. Flow state, it’s called. A space where everything flows, where distractions are nonexistent.
Young Bucks win handily, 4-1.
Dad Bods use the bottoms of their T-shirts to wipe the sweat from their faces. In all fairness, only a few of them have midsections that live up to their team name.
“Who’s buying the first round?” Jeremiah asks, looking around to the men from both teams. “I could use a beer, and whoever wants to go is welcome.”
The guys discuss where to go for a drink, and half of the Dad Bods beg off, citing the wife and kids as their reason.
I might as well get in on the action. Better than goinghome to an empty apartment and feeling like even more of a loner. “There’s this cool place on?—”
“Klein!”
I know that voice. A smile drags up the corners of my lips. The men crowded around me look over my shoulder, getting a glimpse of the woman calling my name.
I turn around and there she is, walking double time. She waves, looking only at me. “I guess I missed the game,” she says, breathless, stopping in front of me. “There was a fire drill at work. One of our client’s websites crashed. I may or may not have gone ten over the speed limit to get here.”
“No worries,” I assure her. I’d rather not cop to the amount of relief cascading through me. She didn’t stand me up after all.
She’s still in her work clothes, slacks the color of blood red, and a white blouse. A cursive ‘P’ on a delicate gold chain rests around her neck. Her hair falls around her shoulders in graceful waves.
“Hi,” Jeremiah says, stepping around me with an extended hand. The rest of the guys have gone back to their previous conversation.
Jeremiah doesn’t wait for me to introduce him. “I’m a friend of Klein’s, and I own Obstinate Daughter.”
He’s expecting this to impress Paisley, but her face is a mask of polite interest. “How nice,” she says, shaking his hand. “I’m Paisley.” She offers nothing else, though she could tell him about her marketing company, and how she owns it.
Jeremiah glances at me, then back to Paisley. “Kleinwas having a hard time concentrating during the game. I guess now I know why.”
