“Of course. I brought Wyatt something.” Then, that six-foot-two professional athlete, who happens to be ripped in all the right places, pulls the jersey from his body right over his head. He stands there, shirt in hand, half-naked in my backyard, at my nephew’s party.
“Holy blessed day,” Mom says next to me.
“Oh my,” Lindy says, not caring that Brent is right next to her, looking anxious.
Abs and pectorals and tanned skin are on display for everyone in attendance. Even my father might be drooling. Brent and I are the only ones offended by the action.
“Here you go, Wyatt,” Lucca says, giving him the very shirt off his rippled, muscular back.
My nephew’s eyes turn to marbles as he takes the jersey and attempts to slip it over his head. The boy isn’t exactly graceful as he tries to fit his head through an arm hole. Lucca stretches out one strapping arm and helps Wyatt find the light of day once more.
Wyatt’s beaming. He slides his hands through the arm holes and stands, looking as if he’s wearing a #3 Red Tails dress. Then he wraps both his arms around Lucca’s middle, giving him the tightest hug.
The one meant for me.
Nineteen
Two days later,I’m lying on my bed after practice, with Maggie still in charge of my thoughts. I’m missing pieces of her story. And I want to put this puzzle together. I also realized that I don’t hate Maggie McCrae. Hate is a strong word. And she doesn’t hate me. She only thinks she hates me.
But how to make the girl realize she doesn’t?
I adjust the pillow behind my head and snatch my phone from the bedside table.
Me: How do you convince a woman she doesn’t dislike you?
Me: Wait. Did I send this to our group? Sorry guys, that was meant for Roman.
Roman: Whoa. Why is that particular question for me?
Me: It’s not obvious?
Zev: I think he’s referring to the fact that, up until a few months ago, you liked no one, you dated no one, and no one liked you back.
Callum: Besides us, of course. We always liked you.
Zev: Well, Callum did.
Me: You’re like wine. I liked you—I just liked you better with time.
Zev: And with Stella.
Roman: Meh. That’s fair.
Callum: What’s this about, Lucca?
Zev: McCrae.
Roman: Obviously.
Me: Why obviously? I’m not Roman. Women love me.
Zev: Except McCrae.
Roman: Obviously.
Callum: I don’t think I can be involved in this. I already inadvertently gave you her number. I will never trust you with my phone again, Lucca.
Zev: So, now you like her?
