The bar has TVs.
I grin at my phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. So, shewaswatching.
Me
Just admit you’re becoming a fan.
Three dots appear, disappear, then reappear.
Sutton
Of football? Absolutely not. Of watching grown men in tight pants tackle each other? I mean Omaha has some sexy looking players.
I laugh again, louder this time. Jake glances over with raised eyebrows. “What’s got you all smiley after nearly getting your head taken off by that linebacker in the third quarter?” he asks, towel draped around his neck.
“Nothing,” I say, but my smile doesn’t fade.
Me
You wound me.
Sutton
Sometimes the truth hurts…
Me
We’re flying back tonight. I’ll be at the bar tomorrow if you’re working.
The three dots appear immediately.
Sutton
Monday night? Don’t you football types need recovery days or whatever?
Me
I recover better with a tasty beer and pretty woman to talk to while I drink it. Plus I need someone to tell me if I’m limping too dramatically forsympathy.
I hesitate before hitting send, wondering if it’s too much. Too forward. But something about Sutton makes me want to push the boundaries a little, so I send it. Those pesky three drama dots appear and disappear several times. My stomach tightens with each appearance and disappearance. Finally, her reply appears.
Sutton
I work tomorrow. But there’s nothing pretty about me. And I’ll only tell you if you’re not limping enough.
I grin so wide my face hurts.
Me
Challenge accepted. I’ll practice my wounded warrior hobble all night for you.
“Haynes!” Coach’s voice cuts through the locker room chatter. “Media’s waiting.”
I quickly type one more message.
Me
Gotta go. See you tomorrow.
