“Thanks, doll,” my dad said, his attention already back on Reiner. “Noonepiece of data defines a player, sure, but trends are telling. Common themes. Errors. Matchups. This will be a weekly assignment for both of you.”
“I have to report my findings to him?” I asked, the edge of my tone more intense than planned. My chest tightened. Well, there went my shot at a real relationship with my dad. Not the awkward holiday hugs and catch-up we seemed to do despite living in the same town. My mom’s new husband and three kids kept her busy, and my dad was married to his job, and through it all...I kinda got forgotten. I cleared my throat and sat up straighter, annoyed that Reiner threw a wrench in my plan. “I’m not going to be working with you?”
“You will, but you’ll meet with him weekly.”
“Why?” I asked, not caring that my unhappiness was clear.
“Because it benefits all three of us.” My dad took a long swig of the beer and groaned at something on the TV. “Fuck, I put twenty down on Ohio winning.”
“Oh, bad move.” Reiner craned his neck to stare at the screen and whistled. “Their offense has been struggling.”
Football talk. Of course. For a niche geek like me, this was a slow form of torture. Why couldn’t we talk about true crime? Or 90s movies? I could rattle on about those topics for days. Weeks, if needed.
I had the urge to kick them both in the shin. Maybe this was why my dad got along so well with Cami. Hell, this was why Gage wanted my sister after I didn’t put out. I was geeky and not an athlete in any sense of the word. I preferred iframes over the ice. That meant I was a weirdo in my family.
The brief connection I thought I had with Reiner when he put his arm around the barstool earlier slowly evaporated. The more him and my father gabbed about football and rankings and all things I didn’t find interesting, the more I pulled away. It was Thursday night, and a new episode of MARRIAGE, MURDER, AND MYSTERIES dropped, a crime podcast I loved. My roommates had strict instructions to not play it until I got back, and if this was going to be sportstalk, it was time to go.
“Excuse me, I’ll just head out,” I said, doing the awkward stand to try and exit the booth.
Reiner’s large, warm body blocked me though. I tapped his shoulder, and he spun to face me again. Those damn blue eyes and long lashes were a real distraction. I blinked and focused on his nose. It was slightly crooked and probably the only imperfect thing about him.
“Do you mind?” I asked.
“You leaving already? You barely touched your beer,” my dad said, frowning as he looked at the glass and back to me. “We never talked about schedules.”
“I’ll be at every game and report to Reiner, right?”
“Well, yeah,” he said, blinking a few times and giving methatlook. The one where he pressed his lips together and his eyes clouded. It was thehow are you my kidexpression I’d seen all my life, and it hurt. Every single time. My chest felt too tight, like a balloon wedged in there, and my face flushed with shame.
“Then I’ll see you at the games next weekend. Opening the season on the road,” he said, disappointment dripping from his voice as per usual.
Reiner watched with his mouth slightly parted and a little line between his eyebrows. He probably figured I was a total flake, but it was better he knew now that I wasn’t a sports girl.
Reiner took his time getting out of the booth, but I couldn’t fault him for that. His massive frame and muscles were probably hard to move around. God knows, I got tired just by looking at his biceps.
“Thanks,” I said, ignoring how my skin tingled when our arms brushed. “What time should I get on the bus?”
“We’re leaving at noon. Friday.”
“Great. See you then.” I didn’t look back and waved over my shoulder as I left the bar. My feet felt heavier than normal, like two cement blocks, and I hated how my eyes prickled with emotion.
The opportunity to work with my dad had gotten passed off to Reiner. The guy who already had a rapport with my dad in a way I never did. They laughed, they joked, and they had the easy-breezy banter I’d always wanted with my dad. I took a deep breath of the leftover humid air. Despite the midwestern summer changing to fall, the heat stuck around for a bit in October, and it warmed my skin.
I fired off a quick text to my roommates that I was heading back just as a familiar laugh caught my attention. Loud, cute,Cami.My stomach dropped like I was falling through frozen ice on a lake.Damn it.If my sister saw me—
“Naomi! Hey, hey!” Cami spoke in a singsong way that tended to charm even the grumpiest person. Seeing her familiar face sent a ripple of hurt through me. Imissedmy sister. The girl who had my back no matter what growing up. The girl who punched Peter J in sixth grade for me. The girl who wouldneverhurt me.
We’d changed though. Life did that to people. She was now the girl who slept with the guys I was dating. How could I ever get over that?
She waved her hand in the air, causing all the bracelets on her arm to jingle.
I gritted my teeth together and forced a light-lipped smile as my sister approached me. She wore a tight CENTRAL dance shirt, all sequined out in orange, and bright red lipstick. While my hair was straight and often in a bun, hers was down and curly. Just looking at her made me feel less put together. She was the wild, pretty twin.
I was the nerd.
“Look at you in your cute as hell shirt and shorts.” She laughed and wrapped her arm around my shoulders in an awkward hug. She smelled like expensive perfume.
“What? No.” I scoffed and eyed my ripped jean shorts and shirt that saidI have a spreadsheet for that.Not cute.
