I would do anything for Dallas, but most of his ‘favors’ lately involve getting me out of my comfort zone and doing things I’d rather not do.
“Parker’s birthday is tomorrow.”
“The big twenty-one,” I agree. It’s why I was home all afternoon making him cinnamon buns. And a few extra in case I run into Izzie. “I’m stopping by tomorrow morning if you want me to bring something.”
“Would you be able to go a little later? Say eight or nine pm?”
This time my sigh is audible.
“To drop something off or because you want me to go to his birthday party?”
“So you have heard about it. I’m surprised because Parker said you weren’t going.”
“We’ve been over this.”
“It’s his birthday, Sav. You’re like a little sister to him, the guys miss you, and there’ll be a bunch of people at the party who would love to be friends with an awesome chick like you.”
I sincerely doubt anyone misses me. Or is going to a football party hoping to make a new friend.
“I don’t think you’ve ever called me a chick before. Or encouraged me to go to a drunken college party with a bunch of players.”
“No one in football will touch you.” His eyes are intense, and his certainty tells me he’s already put the fear of God in them. “And there’s the added benefit that half the guys there already have my personal cell number, so if they talk to you, it’s because you’re the most beautiful and awesome gi—woman there.”
“Do you really think Parker cares if I go?”
“Not enough to push and make you uncomfortable, but I think he does.” Dallas looks both torn and apologetic. “Big parties are cool, but they’re just bodies in a room if it’s not the people you care about.”
It’s what Clay told us after his first birthday in the majors. He didn’t know any of his teammates yet, so even though one of them booked a club and hundreds of people sang him happy birthday, he’d wished he was home with us. Parker knows his team, so it’s not the same, but I don’t think we’ve missed each other’s birthday parties since I met him. He and Dallas even drove back early from an away game to spend the day with me last year.
I should be there. Keeping my distance from the football crowd is one thing, but Parker is family. And I don’t want to be someone who isn’t there for the people I care about. Who lets fear and anxiety stop her.
But I also don’t want to go in without an escape plan.
“I’ll go for the cake and watch him blow out the candles, but I’m leaving after an hour.”
I expect Dallas to argue, but he smiles almost proudly at me.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he assures me. “I just hate that I made it harder for you, Banana.” He sighs, and I hate that he feels responsible for my lack of a social network.
“If only you were bad at sports,” I say longingly. “And ugly.”
I manage to keep a straight face until his laughter turns into a snort.
“I’ll work on it,” he promises me once he recovers.
“Now stop worrying about us and go have fun.”
“I could say the same to you,” he points out. “You know I just want you to be happy, right?”
“I am,” I assure him. I even text people who aren’t related to me, which is a huge step up from last year. “Love you, Dallas.”
“Love you too, Banana.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Savannah
