“What does that mean?” Callum asks.
“Well”—I clamp down on my freshly glossed lip—“he talkeda lot. Which is…great. I got to know all about him. That’s the point of a date, right? At least this kind of date.”
“How much is a lot?” Rosalie asks.
“Ahh, most of the time, I guess. Paul has a lot to say about his life… his job… his talents.”
“His talents?” Callum says through my cell. “Did he ask about you?”
I scrunch my nose. “Not really. But I still spoke up. Though he was checking his phone when I told him about my college experience. Afterward, he informed me that our reel is up to three million views. Then he told me about all the other times he’s been a literal lifesaver to someone. It was… a long story.” I yawn—because listening to Paul all night wore me out. We really should have attempted recreating thatWhen Harry Met Sallylunch scene. I am certain I could have pulled it off.
Rosalie huffs, her arms sinking into a fold. “That sounds like a red flag.”
“I agree,” Callum says from my phone. “A date isn’t a job interview. He’s not there to give you a list of his qualifications and prior successes. He should want to learn about you.”
“I mean, it’s kind of a job interview. An interview applying to be my future boyfriend, possibly my mate.”
Rosalie gags. “Fran, do not say mate.”
“That’s somewhat true,” Callum says. “But he should be listening as much as he’s talking. I think we should be moving on.”
“Says Mr. I Don’t Need Love In My Life. How am I supposed to trust anything you say?” But then, I’m not sure if Callum doesn’t want love or if he simply wants Simone.
“I think so too.” Rosalie points to my cell. “I’m with Cal. We’re done with Paul. He’s clearly not the one.”
“Guys,” I moan. “He complimented my lipstick, and he asked me out again.” I shrug. That doesn’t happen every date. How can I turn my back on it when it does? “I’m going.”
“Franny, nooo,” Callum moans, reverting to the nickname I can’t get his teammates to stop using. I suppose it’s better than Frances.
“Actually,Callie,” I say, my tone mocking. “Yes. I already agreed to another date.”
Cal doesn’t seem bothered that I’ve given him a nickname. “You can always break it.”
“I don’t break dates,” I say.
“Fine,” he says. “Then Rosalie and I will go with you. Double date.”
Nineteen
The grass isdamp and green from the spring rain this morning. I tap my ball to Zev, just warming up, and do the same thing I’ve been doing for the last three minutes—complain. “Why did I agree to this again?”
“Because she’s your lucky charm and you want to look after her.” He taps the ball back. “And if I remember correctly, it was your idea.”
“Don’t forget to get that kiss.” Lucca runs by, a ball at his feet, off course from what Jacobson has us doing.
“Excuse me?” I gripe, kicking the ball harder than the love tap I’m supposed to be giving it.
“Cruz!” Jacobson yells, jutting this thumb to the side and sending Lucca back to his place.
“She’s your good luck charm,” Maverick says, answering for Lucca.
He taps the ball to Roman, who scowls at the word. At least I have one Red Tail in my corner. “You guys are ridiculous,” he says.
Okay—so maybe he’s not in my corner. Just plain ol’ grumpy Roman Graves.
“And we’ve got Philly this week. We need that kiss, Superman,” Maverick says. But what does he know? He’s twenty-one. “Also, I think it’s nice you’re looking out for her.”
“So, you want me to look out for her while she dates another guy? And then come back and kiss her at the end of the night?”
