Savannah stands her ground, folding her arms as she glowers at me. “I can’t imagine any other reason you’d come to a high school practice than to try to get to Lola through her kids.”
“I’mher kid.”
“You’re agrown man,” she snaps back, then gestures toward the team. “They’re just boys, Logan!”
Snarling a little, I take a step back before my frustration boils over. “I am well aware, which is why I’m all the way over here.”It’s not like I’ve given her many reasons to think well of me, but I can’t believe she thinks I could ever stoop so low. “I’m not stupid enough totalkto them, Spitfire.” I look down at the box I’m holding and sigh. “I thought you could use some help, but if you really think so poorly of me, then I’ll hand this box back over and be on my way.” I hold the box out and wait.
Everything in her body language, from her clenched jaw to her lifted shoulders, tells me she wants to keep arguing, but she sighs and nudges the box back toward me. She looks tired. More so than normal. “Fine. I usually leave the food with one of the coaches. But you have to promise you won’t interact with Kacen or Blaze. Keep them out of this.”
I wouldn’t have to think about using my brothers if she would do her part, but I keep that thought to myself. “Won’t say a word,” I tell her and gesture with my chin for her to lead the way. I’m not entirely sure Iwantto stick around, given her opinion of me, but now that I’m here with her, nothing can pull me away.
She smells like basil. Basil and something sweet, which I discovered a week ago when I stupidly pulled her onto my lap. Vanilla, maybe? Catching a hint of her scent now makes me wonder how she tastes.
I shouldnotbe wondering that.
Without losing the wariness in her expression, Savannah leads the way to the pitch.
As I follow, I shift the box to my uninjured arm, both to ease the strain on my injured shoulder and so I can lift the flaps and peek at what’s inside.
Savannah looks back and groans. “That box weighs a ton, and you’re holding it like it’s nothing. Seriously, you’re huge. How in the world do you play winger?”
I stop mid-stride and look at her with my mouth slightly open. “You know what position I play?” I haven’t told her that. Why does her knowing my position make me want to smile?
Crimson rises in her cheeks, but her embarrassment stays subdued beneath the proud way she lifts her chin. “I learn as much about my clients as I can so I can ensure they get what they need out of their meals.”
“You’d have to know the focus of each position for that to have any bearing on what you prepare,” I point out.
She rolls her eyes. “Uh, yeah. I’m aware of how sports work. I know a lineman is going to be different from a cornerback.”
“I play footy, not football, love.”
“Why in the world do you call rugbyfooty?” Savannah gives me a frustrated look that makes me chuckle.
I lift an eyebrow and lean closer to her. I’ve missed this over the last week. Bantering with her.Annoyingher. Being close enough that I can see the ring of blue around her green eyes and get a deep breath of that sweet scent of hers. “Because I’m an Aussie, love. Everything is footy in Australia.”
Frowning, she starts walking again, but not before I catch the blush rising up her cheeks. I’m a big fan of that blush.Remember the bet, Logan. As if a silly wager with teammates who hate me would make her less enticing. I’m definitely going to need to find a better reason to keep this thing platonic.
“I thought everything can kill you in Australia,” Savannah mumbles.
“That too.”
We’ve reached the edge of the pitch, and Savannah’s attention turns to the nearest coach. While they talk, my eyes find Kacen and Blaze among the other players running down the pitch and throwing the ball back and forth in pairs. Kacen is a natural, his movements light and controlled. As I watch, Blaze drops the ball every time it’s passed to him, and he looks like one wrong step will send him toppling into the grass because he’s so stiff.
He’s leaner than his older brother, which should give him an advantage when it comes to speed, but he and his partner are the last to finish the drill by a full minute.
“Just a friend,” Savannah says, pulling my attention back to her.
I meet the coach’s gaze and nod a greeting, and I have to hold back a smirk when his eyes widen as he takes me in. Unfortunately, my smirk comes out anyway when I catch Savannah rolling her eyes at me again.
She’s complimented my muscles enough for me to know she appreciates the body I’ve built, but I’m more concerned about if she actually considers me a friend. Though I doubt my bout of panic last week helped anything, I care more than I’d like about her opinion.
WhydoI care? Professional distance should be a good thing. I’m going back to Sydney in a few months, and I’ve never been one to bother with relationships, romantic or otherwise. My focus is rugby.
Besides, losing people hurts less if I don’t get attached to them in the first place.
Hold up.That’s not a thought I’ve ever had.
The sharp blow of a whistle from the coach next to Savannah brings a wave of boys our way before I can truly consider the implications of the realization I just had, and I’m suddenly swarmed by sweaty teens because I never put the box of snacks on the ground. They come with a variety of thank yous for Savannah and curious looks for me, but most of their interest is in the food.
