I chuckled at his discomfort. I closed my eyes, leaning against the pillow and only managed to sleep an hour before laughter woke me up. It was robust and contagious. I opened my eyes, a smile forming from the vivacious sound, to see Brock shaking with laughter at whatever he was watching on the iPad. I leaned over, peeking at his screen but couldn’t tell. He saw me, pausing the show and removing his earbuds. “What’s up?”
“What has you cackling like a hyena?”
“Did I wake you?” His lips turned down a bit. “My bad.”
“You did, but it was a hell of a laugh. What are you watching?”
“Key and Peele. They are this—”
“Yes. I know them.” I smiled and quoted one of their best comedy sketches of all time. “A-A-RON.”
“Yes.” He laughed, holding out an earbud for me. “Want to watch?”
“Now, I do.” I scooted closer, our thighs now pressed together entirely. I kept the pillow on my lap as a shield. It didn’t protect me from anything about him, but it did give me a piece of mind. “What had you laughing like a lunatic, though?”
“Have you seen the sketch when he goes to buy a mattress?” His eyes danced, and his mouth curved into that perfect smile again. “Holy shit, I lost it.”
“No. I don’t think I’ve seen it. I want to watch.”
“Let me rewind it.”
And, we watched it. I laughed a normal amount where Brock lost his ever-loving shit again. He howled, eyes watering at the stupid sketch. “Good lord, are you all right?”
“Yes. Sorry.” He laughed again, his eyes widening.
“You should watch the one where the dude can’t laugh. Trust me.” He handed me the device, and I scanned for the specific episode. Once it played, Brock lost his shit all over again.
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. “You have the best laugh.”
He took a couple of breaths before looking at me again. “I do not.”
“You do,” I said, not leaving any room for argument.
His expression softened for just a second before he said, “I’m glad you’re volunteering with me.”
My heart warmed again, and I matched his grin. “IthinkI’m glad, too.”
“Yeah?” His brows raised. “I knew you would.”
“Don’t ruin the moment, Brock.”
“Nah, I won’t. Honestly, I’m getting excited for it. I think my dad is going to help out too. I hung out with him yesterday and told him all about it. It would be only about eight nights. All these talks we have keep making me think about my next steps, moving to the NFL level. I don’t know. It’s crazy to think about.” His gaze darted from my face, to the window, and back to me.
“I’ve never considered it a legit possibility. It might suck. I might not be ready.” He sighed and closed his eyes.
“One step at a time, my friend.” I put my hand on his arm, the injured one and gently squeezed it. “It’s not like you could make any major changes this season, so take the next year to think about next steps. You’re ready, Brock. The question is if you want to take that leap or not.”
“Yeah.” He scratched his head, looking uncomfortable and happy at the same time. “Okay. Enough about that. More about you. What experience do you have with young athletes?”
“Little to none besides some clinicals in high school. I like the concept of observing younger athletes, seeing them from the beginning stages to the more advanced. I’ll be able to witness progress in different ages,” I said, noting his rapt attention. It made me nervous when he looked at me like that, like every word I said mattered. I needed to ease the tension. “
“Brock, I was teasing you. You looked tense.” I rolled my eyes. “You baboon.”
“You seem to insult me a lot.” He frowned, fluffing the pillow in between us. “I’m not sure I like it.”
“It’s good for you. People are too nice to you.” I sighed, positioning the pillow so I could lay down. “I’m attempting to nap again. Don’t interrupt me with your ridiculous giggle.”
“I sure as hell don’tgiggle, and no promises.”
