Page 8 of Final Score

This time she couldn’t control the shocked blush that filled her cheeks. Ducking her head, careful not to look in my direction. That was a new response. Years previously, she would have fired a sarcastic remark right back.

“Yay! I knew this was a good idea!” Fallon yelled, high fiving Oliver behind Kat’s head.

“I’d have to agree with you there.” Oliver answered knowing you could cut the tension with a knife between Kat and I.

“I need another drink.”

Kat stood wobbling even more than she had when she had fallen into me. Those heels of hers were a death trap. Sighing, I stood, following her up the stairs. Keeping just enough distance between us so she didn’t know I was checking on her safety.

I found her standing at the edge of the makeshift dance floor in the living room. Chris Stapleton’s Tennessee Whiskey wafted through the speakers. That song was not on our usual playlist. Someone must have found the iPad, hidden in the hall cabinet, that controlled the music and the lights.

Walking up behind her, I grabbed Kat’s hand, pulling her onto the dance floor before I had second thoughts. She yelped in surprise as I spun her into my chest, beginning to slow dance around the room.

“What are you doing?” She asked nervously. Only couples occupied the dance floor, lost lovingly in each other’s gaze.

“Dancing.” I replied simply. I hadn’t thought this far ahead, having only acted on instinct.

“I don’t want to dance with you.” Kat scoffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

“I’m just doing what you asked. Helping you get back at your ex.”

“Noah isn’t even here.”

“No, he isn’t. This is just practice.” I whispered in her ear, before dipping her backwards. Staring into Kat’s eyes as I held her in my arms, I saw a flicker of the warmth I knew she was capable of. My girl was still in there somewhere. I just had to bring her out.

“Breathe Katherine.” I whispered before bringing her upright. I don’t think she noticed she had been holding her breath the entire dance.

“I was supposed to be getting another drink.” She answered, removing herself from my grasp.

“As you wish.” I whispered, winking. I bowed at the waist, one arm extended towards the kitchen, the other wrapped around my torso.

A giggle fell from her perfectly pink lips as she rolled her eyes, retreating into the kitchen. What she didn’t realize was I was about to switch her tequila to water.

Standing on the porch, Oliver and I watched as the last few guests left the house piling drunkenly into Ubers and cabs. No one was allowed to drink and drive home from our house.

“I think we need to go home.” Fallon slurred, searching for her keys coming up empty. “Where’s my purse?” She asked.

“You left it downstairs.” Oliver answered, finishing his cigarette before throwing it into an ashtray on the railing. “You girls don’t need to go anywhere but straight to sleep.”

Fallon wrinkled her nose. “We are not sleeping here.” She stated. As if this place was a seedy motel instead of a house full of kids her age. On second thought, maybe she had a point.

“You don’t have to sleep with anyone, darling, but you do have to sleep.”

“Like you’d ever get the chance.”

“Yes, yes, I know. You wound my ego. Come on, let’s get you some coffee and toast to soak up some of that alcohol.” Oliver answered, ushering Fallon back inside the house.

“Come on, up you go.” I throw Kat carefully over my shoulder. She’s light as a feather, only 130 pounds soaking wet, but she’s wiggling as I walk through the kitchen, catching stares from the few stragglers left to leave the party.

“Nice ass.” Kat mumbles, poking at my backside.

Laughing, I gently tap hers as I make my way up the stairs to my bedroom. “Back at ya.”

This was going to be a long night. My resolve was about to be tested.

As I settle into the brown leather chair now blocking the door, I wait for Kat’s breathing to slow. I don’t need her drunkenly wandering off into another teammate’s bedroom. Especially Oliver’s.

Kat is different than I remember, no doubt having re-invented herself twice over since I saw her last. Creating a new life free of her old memories when she came here and again today. Her newly died hair, fans across my pillow as she’s curled up underneath the covers fast asleep. I can’t say this isn’t the first time I’ve imagined her in my bed, yet under very different circumstances.