Her bright eyes meet mine, and the shimmer of tears gut me. “Please, I’m trying not to touch you. I’m trying sooo hard, but you’re making it so difficult.”
My frown deepens. “That’s why you’re crying?”
She laughs. “Yes, my brilliant soccer star. I'm crying because you say all the right words.”
“Tessa,” somebody calls out behind her.
“Go,” I urge her.
She gives me a reluctant look but takes a step towards the door. “I’ll text when I’m off later, okay?” I nod and force myself to walk away. If I don't go now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to. It’s getting harder and harder to walk away from her. “Slater?” she calls out, and I turn back around. Her gorgeous eyes meet mine. “Thank you.”
I stare at the door she disappears behind, and it takes everything in me not to seek her out. I clench my fists and focus on one step and then another and another until I’m at the clubhouse. I need a good, hard workout.
The day drags. The guys force me to eat lunch and play baseball with them in the afternoon, and then I’m back on campus. By the time Tess gets done with work, I’m stuck in a two-hour team meeting. It’s not a meeting I can miss because it’s the planning meeting for this weekend. I force myself to focus on soccer and my teammates. Tessa may mean everything to me, but I’m also trying not to let my teammates down. My meeting finally gets done, but Coach keeps me behind an extra hour going over more things for this weekend. By the time I’m finally free, it’s after seven. I call Tessa the moment I step out of the clubhouse. “Hey, Slater.” Just hearing her voice soothes something deep inside me.
I smile into the phone. “You know you’re the only person in my life that calls me that, right?”
“Slater?” she questions.
“Yeah.”
“Not true. Your mom called you that.”
“That doesn’t count.” She laughs, and I want to lock up that sound. It’s my favorite sound in the entire world. “She only callsme that when she’s being formal. Besides, she’s my mom; so, it doesn’t count.”
“Okay then.” I can tell she’s trying not to laugh again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. We had a team meeting that went three hours too long.”
“Three hours too long? Well, how long was the meeting to begin with?” she asks.
“Two hours and then coach kept me an extra hour.”
She laughs again. “Well, I’m sorry you were stuck in there for so long. Did you eat?”
“No, did you?”
“Yes, but I can meet you and sit with you while you eat.”
“Sure.” I won’t turn it down if she’s offering. “I’ll take any time I can get with you.”
“Oh, wait. It’s Sunday.”
I smile. “It is, Shorty.”
“Shouldn’t you be doing a meal and a sport at the house?”
“The guys forced me to eat lunch with them and play for an hour or two.”
“Aw, I missed it. Nuts.”
I can hear the sarcasm in her voice. “You’re not sorry.”
She laughs. “Nope. Not at all. What sport did I miss?”
“Baseball.”
She groans. “Oh hallelujah. I hate baseball.”
