“Maybe you couldn’t have known, but Brent certainly should have.” I yawn and shift my gaze to the clock on mybedside table. “What time is it anyway? Is this really why you came in here?”
“Yes. You and Mr. Soccer Player have chemistry, big sister.”
I bark out a tired laugh. She’s stealing my sleep for this. “We do not.”
“You do. Even Wyatt sees it.”
I cross my arms and look at Lindy—she’s much too awake for eleven o’clock. She’s probably been texting with Brent. “Wyatt doesn’t notice chemistry.”
“He does. He asked why Lucca always looks at you. And he wanted to know if your face was going to stay that red color.” She laughs. “Wyatt sees it. Are you really telling me you don’t?”
“Believe me, I’m not his type. Lucca doesn’t look at me?—”
“Except he does.”
“And I was just embarrassed; you started bragging about my U-23 days to aprofessionalathlete.”
“You would have made the U.S. team. You would have been the pro. You know you would have.” She swallows. I’m unsure how this topic makes Lindy feel. She doesn’t say what we both know—that her choices, her addiction, her pregnancy ended all of that for me.
“I don’t know any of that. All possibilities. None of it is fact.” I reach for Lindy’s hand. I’m often so focused on saving my sister, sometimes I forget to just be her friend. “I love you, Lindy.”
“Of course you do. I’m fabulous.” She stands up and I giggle at her fabricated self-confidence. It took a long time for her to gain any of it back. I won’t let Brent or any other person ruin that for her. “I’m also not finished talking about this. But seeing as you are falling asleep on me, I suppose it can wait until tomorrow.”
“Talking about what? There is nothing to tell. We talked about his growing up. His grandma. That’s it. Zero chemistry.”
“Not possible. I’m pretty sure Mom has chemistry with Lucca.”
“Exactly,” I say, throwing one arm out toward her. “That’s the problem. Women everywhere fall at his feet. His head is so big when it comes to anything female that it literally can’t fit through that door. I won’t be lumped in with every other woman falling for the same man.”
“That’s not the problem. Your pride is the problem.”
I scoff. “It has nothing to do with my pride. There is no problem because I’m not attracted to him. There is zero chem?—”
“A rock would be attracted to that man. Brent even said so.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, I’m not a rock and I’m not attracted to Lucca. Besides, it’s against every rule in the book. A ref can’t be in a relationship with a player.” I shake my head; this conversation has gotten out of hand. Lucca and I had one civil conversation, and suddenly my sister is obsessed with non-existent chemistry. “Not that I want to date him. I don’t. Geez, Lindy. You’re messing with my head. Go to bed!”
Lindy walks toward my bedroom door. She lifts one shoulder, peering back at me. “I’m pretty sure rules were meant to be broken.”
“No,” I say, pressing my lips together, my heart rate picking up. “They weren’t.”
Twenty-Six
I hand-feedmy tranquil little Fur Ball, while searching for cat videos and sending them to Maggie. The girl can’t ignore a good cat video. And some of these reels are hilarious. Fur Ball would never act this way. She sleeps, she snuggles, she eats. I lucked out in the cat department.
And while I wait for Maggie to send me a heart or laughing emoji, I want so much more. I want more conversations, more time, more moments with Maggie—like we had in her home.
I switch over to my texting app and send a message to the only helpful friends I have.
Me: I need the three of you to throw a party.
Stella: Why?
Fran: Ooo! A baby shower for Stell!
Me: No. A party for couples.
Rosalie: Couples?
