His dark brows lift in question—he isn’t buying it—but he holds the ball out to me.
I clear my throat and take it from his hands, my fingers grazing over the warmth of his skin and my nerves continuing to sting.Ugh. Shut up.
“So, Lucca.” I grind my teeth. This question goes against everything inside of me. If I didn’t love Wyatt like I do, I could never do this. There isn’t another soul on the planet who could compel me. I squeeze my eyes shut and spit out the words. “My nephew wanted to invite you to his birthday party.”Invitesounds a little better thancome as the main attraction. Besides, what would Lucca do withthattitle? He’d probably have it embossed on a badge and wear it with honor.
“Yournephewwants to invite me?” he says, his stupidly pouty lips turning upward.
“Yes,” I hiss, my teeth gritting. “My nephew.” I scan the field. I am still on the job. And I’m somewhat breaking the rules while I’m at it. “Remember him? Short, blond, trips a lot?”
“Youdon’t want to invite me?”
My gaze snaps back to Lucca. “No. Not me. I would never ever invite you to anything. But for some dumb reason, Wyatt likes you.”
Lucca crosses his arms. “Can’t say I blame him. I’m a likable guy.”
“In your own world, I’m sure you are.”
“When is this party?”
I heave out a sigh. “Next Saturday. My mom’s place.”
“Aw. You purposely chose a day I don’t have a game. Smart, McCrae. Good thinking.”
I drop the ball in my arms, stopping it from rolling off with my right foot. “I didn’t choose the day. Wyatt chose. Come. Don’t. I don’t care.” But that isn’t exactly true. Wyatt would be insanely thrilled if Lucca showed up. And utterly disappointed in me if he didn’t.
But then, without hardly any thought, he says, “I can make it. I like your nephew. Text me the details.”
My heart patters, growing more uncomfortable by the second. “I’ll text Callum. I neither have nor do I want your number.”
Our center official blows his whistle. Play is starting up again. And it’s starting on my end of the field, Red Tails possession. I glower—just a little—and toss the ball back to Lucca.
He grins at me. “I knew you wanted to talk to me,” he says with one single tap to the ball. A Philly player comes up behind him, both contesting for the ball. An inner force compels me,and I raise my flag in the air, signaling possession for the opposing team.
I don’t look at Lucca, and no one questions my call. It really could have gone either way. And if Lucca weren’t such a hotshot, I might have let it go.
Sixteen
The Rhinosand the Forge light up my TV screen, Callum on one end of my couch and Zev on the other. It’s tradition, watching teams from our league play each other.
“I almost forgot,” Callum says. “Fran told me to tell you that the local shelter has kittens.”
Zev blinks, his gaze drifting from the television to Callum and then me. “Why is Fran telling you about cats?”
“Just a previous conversation,” I say. I have no intention of getting a cat.
“She said to text her if you need the information,” Cal says.
Thankfully the Rhinos make a play right at that moment, drawing all of our attention, and I don’t need to explain more. When the Forge’s goalie leaps, smacking the ball out of bounds before it can cross the line and hit the net, we all react.
“Woo,” Callum says, inhaling through his teeth.
I slap my leg, eyes on the screen. “That was close.”
“The Forge’s goalkeeper is a beast,” Zev says.
“No more than Sawyer,” I say. I’m nothing if not loyal.
Callum doesn’t chime in. He’s peering down at his phone.
