Clear across the room, Zev hefts the bag of soccer balls over his shoulder, catching my eye. He walks toward us, and my lips clamp shut.
“It’s Rosalie,” she says, just as my friend sidles up next to me. Her eyes slide to Zev for half a second, but she doesn’t care that we’ve got company. “Here’s what I’m saying: if Fran doesn’t knee you,I will. You hurt her, I hurt you. Got it?”
“I have no intention of hurting your friend. Believe me.” I swallow, and while I am six feet three inches with the body of a professional athlete, I have to admit, I’m somewhat afraid at this moment.
“Well, do you have any intention of calling the woman? Of asking her out? Of having an actual conversation with her? Because if not, you’ve already done your damage.”
I flinch, fearing Rosalie’s knee will make contact at any moment. Because the truth is, I never planned to see Franagain.Ever. Until today, I didn’t even know her name. It doesn’t feel like fate, but more like a fluke.
Rosalie glowers at my recoil. “That’s what I thought.” She glances over at Zev, who stands next to me, before pinning me with more daggers. “You’re lucky we aren’t alone,” she says. “And I’m not talking about your friend.”
It’s then that I notice a straight line of second graders staring at us from the far gymnasium wall. She doesn’t care about Zev, but she does care about what her little class may witness.
Rosalie walks over to the straight line of students, says something I can’t make out, then leads them out of the gym. Her friend is nowhere in sight. After that frightening conversation, I half expected her to be lurking in the corner of the room, waiting for me.
“She’s got fire,” Zev says.
“Yeah—look out. She may light you on fire.”
Zev snickers like I’m telling a joke. “So, what was that about?”
I clear my throat and peer around the near-empty gym. “Where are the guys?”
Zev nods toward the exit. “Taking the equipment to the car. Are you going to explain what happened in here?”
Zev is my best friend. He’d do anything for me. He is the fiery Rosalie to my nutty Fran. He’s also not going to let it go. So, I tell him the whole strange story.
“You’re telling me your lucky charm was here? You talked to her?”
A pinch in my neck forms with his question. “Yes, the girl from the bar. She was in my classroom.”
“That’s—”
“Don’t say it.” He’s already called meeting up with Franagainfatein my head. He doesn’t need to do it in actual real life.
“She sat with the kids and asked me a couple of questions when we were in the classroom.”
Zev grunts. “Huh. You must need her, Cal.”
My brow furrows. “Say what?”
“Did you ask her out?” Zev asks.
“No,” I scoff. Has the man lost his mind? I’m not interested in a relationship. I’m taking a break. Possibly a permanent break. Besides, I’m focused on work. He knows that.
“Why not? It’s not like Simone is waiting at home for you.”
Who said anything about Simone?
“She’s moving on, dude. Maybe it’s time you do too.”
“I know that. And I don’t care. I’m not interested in dating anyone. You know that.” Can’t a guy just stand still? I don’t want to go back to Simone, but why does that mean I should be moving on to someone new?
Zev claps a hand on my shoulder. One I am so tempted to brush off. “But she’s your lucky charm. If not for yourself, Callum, do it for the team.”
“The team?” I cough. I love my team. I’d do just about anything for them. But what he’s asking is bogus. It’s ridiculous. What does he expect me to do exactly?
“Yeah. We’ve got the Atlanta Rhinos on Saturday, and if we lose—you know what that means.”
