Though I tried to suppress it—I truly did—the eye roll accompanying her use of my little-kid nickname couldn’t help itself. Tilting my head at Danny, I answered, “No. First I’ve heard it. When did you decide on Mountain State?”
Gesturing to the deck chairs, he waited until Mom and I were seated before joining us. “From everything you’ve said over the past three years, it’s obvious you really like the school,SweetPea.” He emphasized the hated nickname with a positively diabolical grin.
I bared my teeth at him and shot Mom a glare. She shrugged, but I caught the slight lift at the corner of her mouth.
Ignoring my attitude, he said, “I checked into their engineering program and discovered it’s top-ten nationally. From what I’ve seen from watching YouTube videos, the football team could use an ace receiver.” Waggling his brows, he smirked. “All things considered, Mountain State is a good fit for me.”
A swarm of bees buzzed in my belly, and I gulped down some iced tea to cool them off. “Wow. That’s—wow.” Sipping again from my glass, I gathered my thoughts. “Do you have to live in the dorms like regular freshmen? Might be kind of weird to be four years older than most of the guys on your floor.”
“When I talked to the coach, he said most players except freshmen live off-campus. Since I’m nontraditional, he thought I’d probably find some guys on the team who might need an extra roommate.” He tipped back some tea. “After living in barracks on and off for the past four years, I could do with a break from that kind of communal living.”
“You want to play football? And you already reached out to the coach? As a walk-on?” Struggling to wrap my head around all his news—especially the part where he was enrolling in the same college as me—I latched onto to the easy questions.
A cloud passed over his features. “If the Captain had left the service sooner, settled in one place, I might have had a chance at a football scholarship.” He drank more tea and set the glass back on the table. “As it was, I couldn’t accumulate stats, or a rocking GPA with how much we moved when I was in high school.” Running his hands down the tops of his jeans—his tell when he was embarrassed or nervous—he said, “I went into the Air Force so Uncle Sam could put me through college. You know that, T.”
I nodded.
“But I never gave up wanting to play football.”
The quiet conviction of his words pulled memories to the surface—memories of Danny tearing it up on the Central Valley High field every Friday night, the announcer booming his name through the PA system. Other memories followed: memories of me on the sidelines in my cheerleader uniform cheering my heart out for a guy who would only ever see me as a friend.
“Well, I think that’s just wonderful, Danny. Taryn can help you learn the ropes for getting along on campus.”
For my own sanity, I had to put a stop to Mom gushing about Danny and me hanging out at Mountain State. “Danny will be on campus with the team for weeks before classes start. No doubt his teammates will have him all lined out by the first day of class.”
“Oh, but the two of you will still be able to hang out, I suppose.” Her eyes twinkled, and I wanted to shout at her for the bazillionth time that the two of us werefriends.
She’d been reading more into our relationship from the first time I brought Danny home to study together when I was a junior in high school. Admittedly, I’d been hoping for more too, but he’d made it as clear as glass he didn’t see me as datable. We were buddies. End of story.
Yet Mom loved to feed him and fuss over him, especially after she found out his parents had divorced when he was small, and he’d spent his life as a vagabond with his dad, moving every year or two for Captain Chambers’ military assignments. Mom always said she was quite happy with my sisters and me, but the big deal she made about Danny implied she’d maybe wished for a son in there somewhere with her three daughters.
“We’re having chicken enchiladas for dinner. I made plenty, so I hope you plan on staying to eat.”
“I’d never say no to an invitation to sit at your table. I’ve been dreaming about your food for months, Mrs.H.” Danny flashed his million-watt grin, and exactly like every other woman who’d ever come into contact with that smile, my mother swooned a little.
I couldn’t blame her. The man could coax a nun to stray when he turned that smile loose.
My mother grinned back at him. “Well then, you should probably make plans to come over for dinner tomorrow night too. I believe pork chops are on the menu.” With a wink, she stood and headed for the door. “I’ll leave you two to catch up. Your dad should be back from his afternoon golf outing anytime now, Taryn. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”
“Pretty good timing there, Ace,” I said with a smirk.
“As usual, the captain’s cupboards are pretty bare.” Another cloud rolled over Danny’s features before he finished off his tea. “I’ve only been back in town for a few hours—long enough to drop my shit off at the house, take a little nap, and run my car through the car wash. I saw your sister while I was washing my car. She said you were home for the weekend.” He waggled his brows. “I’m definitely up for dinner with your family, but I also hoped to see you before you head back to campus.”
Tucking a foot under my thigh, I sat back in my chair. “Huh. You’re still in military mode then, yeah?”
Glancing down at his scruffy jeans with the holes in the knees—and not because he’d bought ’em distressed—he laughed. “Does this look military to you?”
The corner of my mouth quirked up. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around you joining the Wildcats this fall. I mean, you already reached out to the coach and everything.” I fiddled with a loose string sticking out from the bottom of my cutoffs. “I knew you loved football, but I guess I kind of thought you gave up that dream when you entered the military.”
He shrugged. “I’ve kept up on my skills, spent time in the weight room. The coach liked what he saw from my high school film, and he likes my physical stats.”
I snorted a laugh. “He does, does he?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, T.” He shook his head, but I noticed the little smirk playing over his wide mouth. “He likes my height and weight—which, by the way, are perfect for a college receiver.”
Yeah, I could agree with perfect. Somehow, over the past four years he’d spent in the service, he’d added a couple of inches to his height and stretched out the shoulders of his T-shirt until it screamed at the seams. My hands itched to explore the contours of those broad shoulders and the sculpted biceps his shirtsleeves struggled to cover.
“Do you go to the games?” His tone told me my answer mattered.
