Page 10 of Beg Me

I wince. I’m good, even great, at a lot of things, but math isn’t one of them. I cheated my way through high school and barely passed the required classes in college. Numbers and letters should never mix. But sixth-grade math should be easy enough.

“Yeah, no problem,” I say a lot more confidently than I should. “I talked to Gus about it last night. I told him we’ll settle in here and then work on it a little every day.”

“Great. You’re the best. Now, I need to go because I can’t find my red lipstick, and I have a date tonight.”

Grinning, I gaze out the window toward the park. “Who’s the guy?”

“His name is John. One of my friends is dating his brother, and we’re all going out to listen to a live band. We met briefly at a party a couple of weeks ago. He’s super cute, and we had a great conversation, so I have high hopes.”

“I hope it goes well for you.”

“Me, too. You have no idea.”

I laugh at the frustration in her voice because it’s one I know all too well. I make it a point not to date much, if at all, during the season. And as soon as I packed up this year, I was on a plane to pick up Gus instead of heading to Cabo like I used to do.

“Well, have fun on your date,” I say. “I’ll make sure to grab the inhaler.”

“Thanks. Talk soon.”

“Bye, Deidre.”

I end the call and set the phone back on the counter, then turn to head to the shower when I catch my reflection in the window. My hair’s a little longer than I prefer and I’m not quite as cut in the midsection as usual, but I can still count my abs.

All in all? Not too bad.

I haven’t really worked out since the season ended, justifying it by saying that I need to give my body time to heal—which is true. But it’s been almost a month now of me sitting around and eating like shit. I can start to see the effects of my choices. And if I don’t get on top of it soon, I’ll have a hell of a time getting back in shape before next season.

“I could still kill it at pickleball, though,” I say, smirking.

“Since you’re a professional athlete, then you should know that the chemistry between two people in an athletic situation is special. You can’t force it. You either have it, or you don’t.”

I chuckle. “Oh, Markie. Something tells me that a lack of chemistry isn’t the problem.”

My phone rings again. I glance down and spot Miles’s name on the screen.

“Hey,” I say, resting my hip against the kitchen cabinet.

“Hey. What’s happening over there?”

“Just hanging out. Thinking about getting the rest of my shit unpacked and then heading to the grocery store. What about you?”

“Same shit. Different day.” He laughs. “How’s the house? All good?”

I glance around the kitchen. “Yeah. So far, everything’s great. Gus appreciates how close we are to the park. He headed down there a few minutes ago.”

“That’s good. Heard you ran into one of my sisters today.”

I did? My brows pinch together as I try to make sense of that. I know Miles has two sisters who live in Sugar Creek, but he doesn’t talk about them much. He mentioned that he only keeps this house because it rents so easily that it’s financially ignorant to sell it. He couldn’t even tell me when he was last here.

“Who is your sister?” I ask.

“You saw her at the farmers’ market. Her name is Markie.”

Slowly, my thoughts pull to a stop. “That’s your sister?”

“One of them.”

“No offense, but I don’t see the family resemblance.”