“You keep mentioning getting traded. You think it’s really going to happen?”
“No one’s lucky enough to play for their dream team their entire career. And we’ve had two losing seasons in a row, and now the team has Casey Riddock. He’s good and…I just…” He blows out a breath. “It feels inevitable. I’ve been worried it’s going to happen for years now, and I guess some things just never quite go away. I just can’t leave my mom, though. She needs me.”
“She has Raul.”
He blanches, “But he’s not here. I don’t know if they’ll ever figure it out. If I get traded, who will look out for her? Emma lives over an hour away.”
“Would Raul ever consider moving here?”
“He’s offered.” Taysom’s mouth turns up at the corners. “I think he’d do pretty much anything for her.”
“Do you think she’s sticking around here because of you and Emma and Emma’s kid?”
“I guess that’s part of it. And the whole traveling for work thing makes it hard for her to take the plunge.”
I finish chewing and swallow. “She deserves to be happy.”
“She is happy,” he insists. “I think she likes things the way they are now. And honestly? I can’t see her liking New York. She’s more of a country girl, not a city girl.”
“San Antonio isn’t exactly the country.”
“It’s a lot more country than New York City!”
“Hey! It’s Taysom Reed,” A voice behind him says. It’s a group of teen boys, all clutching to-go bags of food. Most of them are wearing Wolves jerseys or sweatshirts with the Wolves logo on the front.
Taysom swallows a bite of his food and stands, waving. “Hey, guys! Glad you agree with me that tacos are life!”
“Hey, it’s Charlotte,” one of the teens says, pointing to me, and at the same time that another says, “Are you guys going out?”
I quickly rub my face with yet another clean napkin. How does a teen boy know who I am? “ThisisCharlotte,” Taysom says, ignoring the last comment and dropping an arm across my shoulder, as if he’s staking his territory.
Which I both love and hate. Who does he think he is? Yet, I’m also sort of flattered. I feel protected. Not that there’s any need. These kids seem totally harmless.
But still. I latch onto the idea of being someone he wants to take care of, and it strums steadily inside of me. I’m on the edge of a cliff above a warm, turquoise sea, wanting to give into my impulses and just dive in already.
Can I? Can I dive in?
“Want a mini football?” Taysom asks, pulling away from me to grab his messenger bag. “I can sign them if you’d like.”
The boys’ eyes bug out of their heads. “Cool!”
“Did you bring the cat?” one of them jokes.
“Dude! You can’t bring a cat to a restaurant.” Another one moves to hit the kid on the top of the head, and he dodges and weaves.
“The public can’t handle our cat,” Taysom says. “Nobody’s ready for that yet.”
Our cat. He called Miley “ours.”
After talking with them for a couple more minutes, they leave, tossing their mini footballs in the air, with smiles a mile wide.
“You just made their whole week!”
“They were great.” He shakes his head. “But do you want to know my takeaway from that whole thing?”
“I’m scared, but sure.”
He places a solemn hand on my shoulder. “I think it’s a sign that we need to officially share Miley.”
