Yes and no. I play on a pro team, but our season ended at the beginning of April. This is an adult rec league, but it’s fairly competitive. Then field lacrosse goes from May to September.
How does he play on so many teams? And keeping them straight would be hard. But it sounds like they don’t all overlap.
What are you doing? Did you make it to Florida?
I don’t know why it thrills me to get texts from him. It’s like I’m fourteen again and hoping my crush, Sam Sanchez, will text me about more than just our group assignment.
Just settling in for the night. What about you? What’s your post-game ritual?
It takes another minute to get a response, but I’m laughing as I stare at a picture of him looking like he’s got enough ice on his body to be armor.
Maybe you won’t be as sore as you think
I’m not sure where to go from here. Should I keep the conversation going? Maybe I’m just enjoying this because of the chat I had with Daphne earlier, and this is a reboundfor my loneliness.
Chocolate milk and some beef jerky.
Interesting choice. Maybe I’ll have to try that after my next workout.
I think of Daphne’s words, how she’s grateful for the guy her husband is. Is it a good idea for me to even flirt with an athlete? What if he gets traded the minute I’m actually interested?
It can’t hurt for now though, right?
Instead of following up on that, I push my phone aside and do my skincare routine.
No need to worry about Burton. We have good chemistry, and he’s fun to talk to.
My phone pings again, but I let it be since I think I just got moisturizer in my eye.
Ow, ow, ow. It burns.
My brain thinks back to the movieShe’s the Man, when the main character pretends to be injured during soccer warm-ups.
That’s not how I want the night to go.
Once I get stuff cleared out of my eye, I wash the rest of my face and make sure I’ve got nothing left there. My eye is bright red, but hopefully time will make it better before I’m on camera tomorrow.
I head over to the bed with my phone and finally open the screen, feeling a little more anxious than I should about a random text.
I’m going to hit the hay. Have a good night, Laney.
Good night.
I’m both sad and relieved the texting conversation is over. It should be like any other text, but it has my hopes lifting way too often with him.
I turn out the lights and fall asleep to the only movie I can find on the television. Some chick flick that has no similarity to my life whatsoever.
Okay, maybe a little, but this is real, and I’m going to enjoy the Florida sun and watch a few hockey games.
CHAPTER 9
BURTON
Iwake up with a few new bruises and several aching limbs, but I’m up. Part of me wishes I could repeat the routine from yesterday and run with Laney again.
Texting her was the best part of my day, maybe even better than scoring goals.
“What’s the plan for today, Burton?” Clark asks, looking up from his breakfast. He’s made a whole plate filled with eggs and breakfast meats. The smell makes my stomach rumble.
