Mom grinned.“Of course, hun. We’re excited to see you play in a few weeks.”
“Is the team doing well in practice?”Steven asked.
“Yeah, we’re melding just as well as last year. I think it’ll be a good season.” I ignored the fact that anxiety washed over me whenever I thought about it.
“That’s amazing, honey. We’ll be there front and center, cheering you on.”I mirrored her smile and nodded.
Growing up, she made it her mission to never miss a game of mine. Now that I was farther away and playing professionally, it was hard for her to make it to every one, but she put effort in and came when it mattered.
Before either of us could talk again, a loud noise came through the speaker on the phone.
“Sorry, honey, it’s bingo time on the ship.”Mom sent me an apologetic smile.
“It’s fine, go and have fun.”
“Talk to you soon. Be good!”I held back an eye roll as they waved goodbye before the call ended.
Setting my phone on the couch next to me, I stared at my TV.Game of Throneswas playing, but I wasn’t really paying attention, even though Daenerys was being a badass and killing people with her dragons.
My mind kept straying to Emmie. She had yet to text me, and it had been four hours since I left her at the practice facility. I still wasn’t sure if she would message me or not.Part of me was sure she wouldn’t, but another part was hopeful. Then again, maybe I was the only one who felt the spark between us.
I wasn’t conceited enough to believe all women fell for me, but I had enough confidence to know I wasn’t ugly, by any means. There’s plenty of fan pages on social media dedicated to just me so I wasn’t exactly unattractive. That sounded cocky as hell, but it was true.
I meant what I said to her when we went out to eat. I’d be happy to see her again, but if she didn’t want to, I’d understand. I’d never force someone to feel something for me when they didn’t.
My phone buzzed beside me, but it was just Perry and Jake’s name in our group chat that popped up. I really needed to do something before I went mad waiting for a damn text.
With my phone turned over so I couldn’t see the screen, I settled back on the couch and focused on the TV. I made a silent vow that if Emmie didn’t text me in the next hour, I would respect her boundaries and leave it alone.
For the next forty minutes, I watchedGame of Thrones, ignoring the few buzzes my phone gave. But despite the entertainment in front of me, I felt itchy and restless. I’d never been the type to sit still for long periods of time. My mom used to joke that I had ants in my pants.
The end credits of the show played, and I jumped off the couch, pacing toward the windows. The entire city of Buffalo was spread out before me. Buildings went for miles and miles on one side, the Niagara River separating the US and Canada on the other. In a few hours, the sun would set and make the entire city glow.
Everything seemed so small this high up. The stadium out in the distance was just a speck amongst other buildings. Even city hall looked small as it towered over everything else.
An entire city was before me, and here I was, stressing over a girl. One who, more than likely, wanted nothing to do with me. There was tons of stuff I needed to focus on—football plays, formations, campaigns my manager signed me up for, the junior hockey league I volunteered for, as well as youth football.
Adding a woman on top of that wouldn’t be smart. From what I knew, Emmie was just as busy as I was with her upcoming competition. Yet, I wanted to know more about her. More so when she sent me those glares and gave me her quick-witted sarcasm.
It would be idiotic of me to try anything with my coach’s daughter, but I never said I was smart.
My phone excessively buzzing drew my attention away from the windows. I snatched it off the couch, expecting to see messages from a group chat. Instead, I paused at the random number on the screen.
After we left Alessandro’s the other day, I gave Emmie my number, but she never gave me hers. I left the ball completely in her court. I didn’t have to see the messages to know the number belonged to her.
Emmie: Hey, it’s Emmie.
Emmie: You said to text you. I would have sooner but lunch with my dad went long, then I had to get to Pilates.
Emmie: Not that you asked.
Emmie: Anyway, hi.
My lips formed into a smile at the onslaught of texts, each one a little awkward in a cute way.
Mateo: So you did save my number.
Emmie: Want me to delete it? I will.
