Once he’s done, I drive home.
Every trouble is forgotten when I catch Lilly in my kitchen, swaying her lips as she listens to something. Rooted in place, I watch her in her element, not wanting to disturb her, but she senses me, if that secretive smile is any indication. She turns around, and the smile wipes from her face.
She tugs at the earbuds and approaches me. “What happened?”
I can’t bitch to her about her father.
I force a smile to calm her. “Just a harder practice.”
The sadness clinging to her features guts me.
She lowers her gaze, sighing deeply. “I got you into trouble, didn’t I?”
“Hey.” I brush my finger under her chin, urging her to look at me. I get my suspicion confirmed because indecision flickers in her eyes. “I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.”
She offers a nod that is more placating than accepting. It makes me want to genuinely curse out my coach.
She drags me by the hand inside the kitchen, and I notice a shot on the counter.
How I missed these small, caring gestures that make the biggest difference.
I drink it in one go, already feeling a bit of my energy returning.
“Are you hungry?” she asks, clapping her hands together, her sign of excitement that she prepared something new.
“I’m starving.” More for you than for food, but with the smile teasing her lips, my face must reveal it.
As she plates two couscous salads with grilled chicken, I pour us some sparkling water.
“You know you can eat whatever you want. I won’t mind,” I say, my stomach growling at the delicious-looking dish.
“We’re a team.”
Yes, we are. The perfect team, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone else get in our way.
She shifts on her feet, chewing on her bottom lip. “So, about me staying with you until my bathroom gets fixed…”
“We basically lived together before. We’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? I could stay with Kat and Theo.”
No, I need her too much to agree. Her only option is my place. Period.
She makes everything better and I know she wants to stay with me. Her head might tell her no, but her heart is all over that yes, and I unabashedly take advantage of that knowledge.
“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” I say to sweeten the deal.
“No, forget it. If I stay, I take that. I love it.”
Something unpleasant strikes my chest. What about loving me? Good god, I can’t be jealous of my sofa, can I?
“Fine,” I say, giving in.
I had a day straight from hell.
After I finish the crispy salad, I rinse the plates and put them in the dishwasher.
Moving to the living room, I slump on the sofa, holding my face between my hands, looking out into space.
