When I drop beside him, I instantly hunch over, feeling like I’m going to be sick. Coop squeezes my shoulders a touch too hard to be supportive. “Is it worth it?”
“It had better be.”
The bus engine rumbles to life beneath us, vibrating through the floor.
I sit up in time to see Logan’s bus pulling out in front of us.
Coop studies my face. “That’s a terrible answer, man.”
I lean my head back against the seat and stare at the ceiling vents. “It’s the only one I’ve got.”
He nods once.
I’ve been so self-absorbed all month, and as tempting as it is to shut myself off and wallow in my own pain, I can’t do this to Coop anymore. My future brother.
“Hey, I’m really sorry I haven’t been paying attention to what’s going on with you and Lee. I’m really happy for you guys.”
“It’s not a big deal,” he says.
“Yeah, it is,” I argue.
“You’re right. It’s a huge deal,” he says with an easy grin, so much more generous than he could be, given the circumstances.
“How are you going to ask her?”
He chuckles and says in a low voice, “I’ll tell you, but you don’t get to judge me for how corny this is, because I have it on good authority you’re a sucker for love.”
The bus lurches forward, and through the tinted windows, I watch Logan’s bus turn the opposite direction out of the lot.
“Guilty as charged,” I say.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Scottie
Technically, I know the sun is no closer in Surprise, Arizona, than it is over in Pinnacle Peak, but tell that to my sunburn.
Somehow, I remembered to put sunscreen on my upper thighs but forgot to put it on my shoulders. I’m used to wearing Jake’s thick jersey at games, but today when I took off my quarter-zip, I had a structured, wide-strap ivory tank underneath. I was too caught up watching the game—fiddling with Lucas’s bead necklace around my wrist—to think about my bare shoulders.
Also, Lucas researched the best coffee spots in Surprise and had one of the interns bring iced lattes to all of the staff to make sure I didn’t have to go without.
My boy is all romance.
He pitched like a pro, hitting a hundred on three different pitches. Doug was impressed—I could see it in his clap. And Lucas handled his interview beautifully, not lingering anywherehe shouldn’t, but still charming the socks off the reporters who grabbed him in the locker room.
Now the team is boarding, and I’ve made sure the clubhouse attendants have the gear list for transport and that the media clips are uploaded for the players who need them. I’m planning to sink into the first row available, close my eyes, and dream of what life will be like in five days.
When I get on the bus, Gabriela smiles at me, but before I can sit next to her, Coop gets up from where he’s sitting with Lucas and stands next to Gabriela’s row.
“Actually, do you mind if I talk to Gabriela?” Coop asks. “She has me slotted for a community event tomorrow that I wanted to talk to her about.”
“Uh, yeah, of course,” I say, pointing to the seat and then standing there for a beat, wondering how bold I get to be.
But it’s not bold to any onlookers. It couldn’t be more normal. Lucas is my player. I’m his coordinator.
Easy peasy.
No one thinks this is weird, I tell myself as I walk the few rows back to where Lucas is on his phone, a small smile on his face.
