For a while, neither of us said anything. The wipers dragged across the glass, the only sound between us. Once we hit the open stretch of highway, I risked a glance her way.
“So,” I said, as casual as I could manage, “you never mentioned whatyouwere doing all the way out here. Belated holiday party?”
She let out a breath that came out half-laugh, half-groan.
“A date, unfortunately,” she grumbled. “Which, in hindsight, was a terrible life choice.”
My eyebrows went up. “That bad?”
“Oh, you know. Just your standard boy-meets-girl, boy-asks-out-girl, boy-takes-girl-to-a-funeral situation.”
I turned to her. “A funeral?”
“Yup.”
“As in—”
“As in open casket, hymns, and stale snacks,” she said, her tone bone-dry. “I mean, they couldn’t at least spring for fresh crackers? And before you ask, it was his ex-girlfriend’s grandmother.”
I exhaled through a low whistle. “Damn, you weren’t exaggerating. That is one hell of a night.”
She smiled faintly, but there was still a tired edge behind it.
“Tell me about it,” she muttered. “The bar is pretty low these days. Practically on the ground.”
“You deserve better than that,” I blurted before I could stop myself.
Our eyes met across the console. I should have said something else, something motivational or comforting, an amusing anecdote, perhaps. Instead, I let the silence settle between us, turning back toward the empty road ahead.
A few miles and at least four songs from the oldies radio station later, she tilted her head toward me again.
“You really don’t have to drive me the entire way, you know.”
I smiled to myself. “Happy to.”
“I could callNessa or Jared.”
“Nah,” I dismissed, easing the truck through an intersection. “Besides, it’s good practice since I’ll be moving in next door soon.”
Her head snapped toward me. “What?”
“Nessa and Jared are letting me take Dani’s room.”
Dani, the team’s all-star social media director, had recently had a baby with Coach Ward, and now the two of them—or three, if you included baby Bailey—were shacking up at his place.
Funny how that had worked out. At this rate, I didn’t even need dating apps; everyone on the team was too busy pairing off with someone from the Roasters organization. Hell, even the damn mascot had better luck than I did. Maybe it was less of a baseball franchise and more of a matchmaking service.
“It’s closer to the stadium,” I explained. “Quieter than the city.”
Her mouth opened, closed, then settled on, “Oh.”
Just one syllable, but it landed heavier than I expected.
“I take it, uh, Jared didn’t mention it,” I hedged.
She shook her head. “He said he might have someone lined up, but that’s about it.”
“Well,” I said, giving a small shrug, “I guess that someone is me.”
