There was no harm in that.
None at all.
nine
HOLDEN
It was a dangerous game we were playing. Maybe it was Christy’s nonchalance about the whole fake-dating charade or the incredible pheromones that were messing with my head, but for the first time since high school, I was letting a woman rule my choices. Twenty times a day I checked my phone, hoping, praying, telepathically willing Christy to text or call. Most days she came through, filling my life with excitement and anticipation. The days she didn’t were hollow and dull. In the two weeks we’d been a ‘couple,’ we’d gotten together nine times at her apartment to take pictures or FaceTime her family. The past two evenings, we’d fallen asleep on her couch, arms and legs tangled up,The Officeplaying in the background. My word, I’d never known cuddling could be such a turn-on.
Flying down the highway, my fingers drummed the steering wheel as I replayed last night’s cuddle session while I waited for a text from my law school buddy. It was the third trip I’d made back to DC for a job interview and I was already tired of the back and forth. If it weren’t for Christy I would’vejust stayed at my townhouse. But back to Seddledowne I headed.
Tessie announced, “Albert ‘Tripp’ Murphy says, ‘Sorry, man, I think they’ve decided to pass.’”
I scratched my jaw, irritation bubbling. Another rejection. I was just arrogant enough to admit that I’d forgotten the sting that it left, it had been so long since I’d experienced it.
I pressed the button to respond. “Any idea why?” Though I was pretty sure I already knew.
Another text came through but this one was from Anna.
“Anaphylaxis says, ‘Where are you?’” I picked up my phone to see a picture of her and Silas stuffing massively juicy burgers into their wide-open mouths. Oh man, that looked good.
“Almost there,” I murmured to myself.
“Albert ‘Tripp’ Murphy says, ‘They didn’t say. I know they were impressed when you walked out of here. But they just got off the phone with your old firm a few minutes ago so I’m guessing that was the deciding factor.”
I gripped the wheel.Sipsby.
How was I supposed to find another job if Wellington slandered me to every potential employer that called? I’d even apprised Tripp’s boss in the interview. Given him my side of the story, hoping he’d give me the benefit of the doubt. If this kept up, I’d be blacklisted and have to go back to school and choose a different career path.
“Albert ‘Tripp’ Murphy says, ‘I’m sorry, man. Try Benson. Maybe their office is looking for someone.’”
But I’d already tried Benson Honnely. My best friend from UVA Law was the first person I’d contacted.
I pulled into the Seddledowne High teacher lot, parked, and hurried across the lawn. I’d missed last week’s home game for another interview but both teams had scraped out a win. Then I’d ridden with the girls, and Christy, on the bus to theiraway game. Again, both took the win. But this was the first team dinner I’d made it to. And it was ridiculous.
Christy had told me a couple of the moms were heading things up. I’d expected pans of box lasagnas and prebagged salad. But when I walked up, every team member and the majority of their families were in the mostly empty student lot, tailgating. But instead of beers, there were eight kinds of sodas. Two massive grills were smoking as a couple of men flipped burgers and hot dogs. And there was an entire buffet of chips, condiments, salads, and, most importantly, baked beans. And a whole ’nother table full of cookies, brownies, and lemon bars.
Christy bounded up to me with a soft smile—making my chest tighten—and did a Vanna White flourish at the food. “Can you believe this spread?”
“Uh, no. These girls aren’t going to want to play. They’ll wanna take a nap. They shouldn’t be drinking sodas and eating cookies right before a game.”
“C’mon, you’re just hangry after your long drive.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the food. “Let’s get some food in that ripped belly of yours. We wouldn’t want our Herculean coach to be cranky when the game starts.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” She was constantly commenting on my muscles, which was hilarious. But knowing that she was thinking about my body composition made it hard not to think about using said body to shove her against a wall and kiss her until she was gasping for air. I’d never actually do it though.
Over the top of Christy’s head, I spotted Silas and Lemon at a table full of Anna and her friends. Silas tipped his chin up at me. Lemon, tucked possessively under his arm, offered me a finger wave and a grin. Silas gave me a tentative thumbs up with a cocked brow and a question on his face. He wanted to know how the interview went. I shook my head, lips pursed,and flipped my thumb down. His face fell and his lips twisted in empathy.
I glanced away, on high alert. No doubt, masked somewhere by this chaos, was Amber Taylor. She’d been at every game and I’d discovered she was Alyssa’s aunt. Which made me unable to enjoy the fact that Christy was gripping my arm.
My gaze skittered, searching the crowd. Sure enough, Amber was by the baked beans, ready and waiting with her gigantic serving spoon even though everyone had come through the line a while ago. Almost like she was waiting for me and like she remembered, from when we were boyfriend and girlfriend back in seventh grade, that I loved baked beans. And even though I was now twenty-seven, I was incapable of serving myself. It really was a shame God had wasted such a pretty face on someone whose insides were so ugly.
Jilly Booker was next to her, serving up salads. From what it looked like—potato, macaroni, or fruit. Jilly grinned at Amber, her teeth almost luminescent against her dark skin. My heart panged. I really liked Jilly. Always had. We’d been pretty tight in high school. She was hilarious, brilliant, and a friend to everyone—most especially an underdog. But if she was still slummin’ it with Amber, we’d never be friends again. And that was truly tragic, in my book.
I didn’t feel that I should have to fight a battle to get a helping. But I was hungry, and I wasn’t going to let the Black Plague keep me from it. I couldn’t drag Christy through a deadly pandemic to get some stupid beans though.
My amble came to a crawl, immobilized with what to do.
Christy leaned back, trying to drag me. “C’mon, Makeout Maestro. We need to get your strength up.”
