She smiles casually, like she didn’t just ask me that, and I blink at her, wondering momentarily if maybe I was imagining it. But nope. She continues.
“I bet he does. He has that big dick energy.” She nods to herself as if that answers that.
I take another sip of my wine, watching Alex Henry score the second goal of the game.
“So, is it serious?” Fran nestles in closer, Toast Malone grumbling when he has to move his head an inch to better adjust himself on her thigh. Traitor.
“Like I’ve been telling Millie literally all day,” I say, “it’s none of anyone’s business.”
“You and Happy would besocute together,” Fran beams, not taking the hint apparently. “The coach’s daughter and the?—”
I hold my hand up. “Stop.”
“Okay, but just give me something, please?” She’s bouncing up and down, hands clasped beneath her chin in the sign of a prayer. “I’m a nosy asshole—you know this.”
Rolling my eyes, I can’t help but laugh because she’s right; she is a nosy asshole.
“Fine,” I huff. “I… I like him.”
Fran gasps, her eyes lighting up wide and bright. “Like…likehim?”
I nod.
“Like… not just sex?”
I nod again.
“Awww!” Fran claps her hands together all excitedly. “This is just perfection. The whole group coupled up!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I hold my hands up, stopping her. “We’re not coupled up, we’re just?—”
“Fucking, and your emotions are getting in the way,” she answers for me before sipping her wine all smugly, and damn her because she’s right.
“I mean, yeah,” I admit, looking down at my own wine.
“Okay, so what’s all the hesitation about?” Fran presses, her face twisting into a slight grimace as she says, “Is it his slutty man-whore past?”
I can’t help but laugh at that.
“Because Dallas is proof a man can change when he meets the one,” she assures me.
“No, I don’t care about any of that,” I say honestly because I truly don’t. As long as a man isn’t a cheating asshole, I don’t really care how many people he’s been with, as long as he’s been safe.
“It’s just…” I trail off, because I can’t tell her what’s causing the hesitation. It’s not just Happy; Happy and Lucky are a packaged deal, and honestly, I’m terrified of getting serious with him and it not working out, and Lucky being the one left hurt. That little girl has been through enough. I sure as hell don’t want to risk causing her any more pain.
“Is it your dad?” Fran asks with a wince.
I press my lips together, meeting her eyes and, the truth is, unlike most girl dads who coach sporting teams, I think my father would actually love it if I were to date one of his players. But I nod because if it means not telling her the truth, I’ll blame poor old Dad. For now, that’s all Fran or anyone needs to know.
My phone shudders next to me, and I glance at the screen, seeing a new message from an unknown number. My heart flies up into the back of my throat, because immediately I assume it’s Chris. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried contacting me from a burner account.
Turning away from Fran, I unlock the phone, and my eyebrows knit together when I read the words on the screen.
Unknown: Hey, Hannah. I’m so sorry to bother you. I got your number from Happy’s iCloud. It’s Allie, by the way.
Confused, I hesitate before responding because this is weird, and I hate that my guard is up because Happy has already assured me Allie is Lucky’s nanny and nothing more. I update her contact in my phone and tap out my reply.
Me: Hey, Allie. No need to apologize. What’s up?
