Page 17 of Tiger Lilies and Tight Ends

“The agreement to the house rules.”

He frowns, but doesn’t move.

“Fine, how about a pinky promise?” I hold up my pinky, and he stares at it like it might bite. “Come on, you can do it.”

His dark eyes shoot to mine and narrow. Slowly, he steps toward the island, lifts his hand, leans forward like we’re going to arm wrestle, and wraps his pinky around mine. A snap of static electricity zaps us both, and sparks fly down my spine. His eyes lock on to mine for just a moment, and we stare at each other. His finger is warm, much larger than mine, and I have to tell my inner teenager to calm down. Otherwise, I might have liked this one simple touch way too much.

The teenager squeals at the confirmation. He’s touching me.

And then he’s not. He’s released my finger and stepped back to the other side of the kitchen.

Oh, boy. This is going to be interesting.

Chapter 6

Tyler

Ithink I’m avoiding my house, but not at the same time. Can that even be a thing? I linger in the mornings to have that cup of coffee with her and to see her, but then I’m gone for huge chunks of the day. I go work out, I go to Jonah’s, I go running, or I go fishing. I know we’re still in the learning-curve phase of navigating life around each other, but soon something’s got to give. I like being home. I like sitting on my couch and watching SportsCenter, and well, I don’t think that I mind being around her either. She’s generally quiet, and if I didn’t know she was staying with me, I wouldn’t really know she’s here at all.

“How’s it going?” Lance asks. I’m surprised he made it a week before calling.

I’m on my way back from going for a run. It’s hot as blazes out here this afternoon, but there’s always a slight breeze coming in off the water. Even if that breeze feels more like the hot air of a blow-dryer than that of a cool mountain spring.

“It’s going fine,” I tell him, knowing he wants to talk about Lily, but suddenly feeling like talking about her is wrong. She came to my house for some privacy and to figure things out. I don’t want to be gossiping about her, even to him.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s right. She was with him for a long time. You can give it to me straight, I can take it. How heartbroken is she?”

I think back over the few interactions we've had over the past week. I discovered she’s a morning person. She always has her headphones on, listens to music, and dances while she makes us coffee each morning. She likes to cook, and she cooks healthy. For some reason, I have cookbooks, and she’s gone through all of them, looking for recipes. She flagged a few for me to review and approve, and she’s made bread. She sits on her laptop a lot, gives me sass whenever I’m around, and other than that one time I brought in the donuts and found her visibly upset on her phone, she’s been pretty good.

“Honestly, I don’t think she’s heartbroken at all. She seems fine.”

I lift my shirt to wipe the sweat off my forehead. Granted, the shirt is damp too, but I learned the hard way about running outside without a shirt on. I’m recognizable, and not only did someone take photos of me and sell them but they took a video of me running too. The video was played in slow motion so viewers could watch my muscles bouncing. It wasn’t a terrible video, but I don’t want to be in the media for anything outside of football. Ever.

“Huh. Well, that’s good to hear. We were worried about her when she went radio silent in the mountains.”

She mentioned one morning that she had been in North Carolina for a few weeks, but she didn’t say what she was doing there. Just a stop along the way for her to figure out what’s next. Was she heartbroken then? She had to be, right? She just up and left him, imploded her life, and hid away in the mountains. Or maybe this was a long time coming. I don’t know. Perhaps I should ask her? Is she faking being okay around me, or is she really okay? Because now that he mentions it, I am a little surprised that she’s not more upset. I know how I was after Marissa, and she doesn’t seem that torn up at all.

“Tell me about that, how long was she there? Did she visit at all before heading south?”

“She stayed with our parents for a few days after she left Dean’s, and then she headed out. I get it, she needed room to breathe and wanted some time to figure out what’s next. I offered that she could stay with us, but life is loud in my house with my little tornadoes. I think she stayed at that mountain rental for two months. She probably would have stayed longer, but it was already rented for the Fourth of July, so she had to go. Has she said anything to you about what she’s thinking? Where she plans on going next? Lily is the craziest person I’ve ever known for planning. She’s organization on crack.”

She was there for two months? I guess that’s a decent enough amount of time to move on, but she was with him a long time.

And she’s type A?

I guess I can see that. From what I’ve seen around the house, she is very clean and organized. But then again, I asked her to be. She lines her shoes up outside in the garage, the groceries she’s had delivered are sorted and perfectly set together in the refrigerator, and other than a laptop charger she keeps on the end table next to the couch, no items of hers are lying around. She’s very clean or trying very hard to stay out of my way.

“No, she hasn’t said anything to me, but we haven’t talked a whole lot. Between babysitting for Jonah and ramping up for the first day of practice next week, I’ve been a little busy.”

First day of practice. I am grateful, I really am. There’s no job better in the world for me. I love football. But the season schedule can be tiring. Once we hit the gas, it doesn’t stop until it stops. For months.

On Mondays, we work out and have film. Tuesdays, if we’re lucky, we have that day off. Wednesdays are full workload days: workout, team meeting, offensive meeting, walk-through practice, and media. Thursdays are a repeat of Wednesday with even more media leading into the weekend. Fridays tend to be a bit shorter as we’re with the trainers doing body work and physical therapy. Saturdays are more film, meetings, captain meetings, offensive meetings, and last-minute tweaks and walk-throughs. Sunday is game day.

Rinse. Wash. Repeat. For weeks. Make that months.

“Is she staying out of the way?”

I get why he’s worried. The whole “no roommate” mantra that I live by, but it really hasn’t been that bad.