It occurs to me that I don’t know some very key information about this man I’ve been falling for. His last name, for example. Where he works. He probably knows mine, though. I’ve told him who my brother is. Does he know I’m here?
I turn on my heel and rush back to my locker to pull out my phone and call Alka. I think we’re going to have a problem. My stomach threatens to roll as the phone rings. I strain my ears to see if I can hear Alka’s phone ring from somewhere beyond thelocker room. My eyes dart between doors, waiting for him to step out.
“Hey, Ruby,” he answers, and I flinch. Fuck, I’ve never corrected him on my name.
“Hey, so, I need to ask you something.”
“I’m heading out to the pitch right now. I’m going to have to call you back. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “No, this is important. What’s your last name? Where do you work?”
“Lennon,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Rainbow Dorset University. Yes, that’s a real place.”
I might have laughed any other time. “Alka, I need to tell you something.”
“Is it an emergency?”
Kinda. It is, right?
“No,” I say, though I’m not convinced.
“Sweetheart, I swear I would give anything to be able to take a few minutes to talk to you, but I can’t right now. My team is gathered. I’ll call you directly after. I promise. Okay?”
I close my eyes. “Yeah. My name is Roux Kipler.”
“Roux. Not Ruby.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I have a reason.”
“We’ll talk about it after. I promise.”
I chew my lip. “Okay. See you soon.”
“Soon,” he promises, like he has every time we’ve talked. He hangs up. I dump my phone in my locker, slam the door, and run out onto the pitch.
There he is, stuffing his phone into his pocket. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s about to learn that when I said soon this time, I meant in about thirty seconds.
Oh fuck!
CHAPTER 20
ALKA
Istep onto the soccer pitch and close my eyes, breathing in the perfect Northern California air and feeling the sun on my cheeks. I close my eyes, turning my face up to the sky. It’s a beautiful day for practice.
My feet carry me across the pitch to stand in front of the goal net. I place my hand on the bar, feeling the warmth it holds.
They say there are certain parts of nature that hold memories. Water, for one, is supposed to be a great conduit for holding memories. I’ve always thought that sports fields do too. The ground absorbs the energy of the players. The nets hang on to past games, ready to embrace a ball that gets by the player. The poles gather and store heat and feed it back into the players that touch it.
“Heads up, Lennon.”
I turn at Declan’s voice as a soccer ball bounces across the field in my general direction. Laughing, I jog after it, stopping its forward motion with the side of my foot. With the sole of my sneaker, I quickly roll the ball back toward me, bringing my foot all the way around it until the toe of my foot can move under its roll, then I can kick it upward to catch.
“I found one of your balls,” Declan says, giving me an amused smile.
I grin. “Thanks for returning my ball.”
He joins me where I’m standing, now beyond the goalpost since I had to run after his awful kick.
