He shakes his head and scowls at me. “What have I done to make you think I’d ever go back to being that guy?”
I run my tongue over my teeth before I shrug. “Nothing.”
“Right. And for the record, it’s absolutelykilling menot to be with them right now. So you can just go f—” He stops and glances apologetically at Daisy. “Sorry. Go screw yourself, Landry.”
“Thanks, Coach. Best of luck to you tonight,” I retort sarcastically, but he’s already sprinting off to join JD.
I turn to find Daisy frowning. “What? I didn’t say a single thing to him. How was that my fault?”
She sighs. “You’re right, you didn’t say anything offensive. But you can’t go around looking at your friends and family like you despise them and not expect them to think it’s true.”
“Technically, Blake’s not a friend or a member of my family.”
“Yet,” she points out.
I roll my eyes. As far as I know, Loren and Blake’s engagement still stands. But they don’t seem eager to set a timeline on it yet.
“Come on, let’s go get you some of that disgusting concession stand food I keep talking about,” I tell Daisy, changing the subject.
Her face lights up. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I can’t help but smile back at her now. “You going with the greasy barbecue sauce burger or Hot Fries drenched in cheese?”
“Oh, definitely the second,” she confirms. “And I’m gonna need one of those giant pickles the kids are always talking about.”
I snort as I lead her to the concession stand. “You can have your pickle.”
“Come on, don’t tell me pickles are in the same category as corn dogs and lollipops?”
I chuckle out loud. “Not quite, but I’ll pass this time. I’ve been plotting on a burger and some chili-cheese fries.”
I approach the window and order our food, noticing that Daisy looks concerned beside me. “Hey, everything okay?” I ask when we turn to head back toward the bleachers. She hesitates, so I add, “You have to tell me the truth, remember?”
“You paid for my food,” she says after a second. “But we’re not on a date, are we?”
I clear my throat. “No. We’re not.”
“Then you’d only be doing that if you thought I couldn’t afford my own dinner.”
I shrug, fending off my annoyance. “No, I just?—”
“You pity me because you know I’m broke and pathetic?”
My first instinct is to point out her lack of gratitude in response to my kind gesture, but the sad smile she flashes me doesn’t align with that attitude. Instead, I open my mouth to tell her she’s being ridiculous, since we both know she’s on a much tighter budget than I am. But then I remember her whole reason for moving out here—to become self-sufficient. And as if having to depend on me for transportation and health insurance weren’t enough, I just robbed her of her autonomy again.
I force a smile in return. “Of course not. I thought we agreed to share the responsibility for meals since neither of us can cook all that well. Dinner’s on you next time, right?”
She nods, looking relieved. “Thank you.”
More of Daisy’s coworkers and students greet her as we walk on, and she doesn’t hesitate to give each of them a friendly smile or address them by name. I recognize a few of my old classmates and acquaintances, but not many of them bother to acknowledge me.
We get to our seats just after kickoff, and I lean in close to explain what’s happening in the game. I’d already prepped her with the basics of football on the short drive over.
“So Ethan is the running back on this play. The quarterback there is going to hand the ball off to him, like that, then Ethan’s going to try to get as many yards as possible, if not a touchdown.”
She nods in understanding before she flinches when number twenty-three absorbs a hard hit and spins away. “But it’s not enough to hit him, right? They have to knock him down for the play to be over?”
“Or push him out of bounds.” Ethan skirts the sidelines for a few more yards before he gets shoved past the white line on the edge of the field.
