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“But you’re pushing your luck.”
I look at him. “Thanks, Mom.”
“I’m serious. You two are terrible at this.”
“We are not.”
Jordan gives me a long look, his mouth twitching.
“What about the others?”
“What about them?”
“How much do they know?”
He shrugs. “Pretty much the whole team knows. You haven't exactly been subtle.”
“We have been extremely fucking subtle.”
“You just followed Coach Brennan’s daughter into a family bathroom while Coach Brennan was sitting thirty yards away.”
“Okay, today was a low point.”
I glance toward the front again. Brennan is talking to one of the assistants, completely unaware that half his locker room has apparently been watching me fall for his daughter in real time.
My stomach tightens. Jordan follows my gaze.
“Relax. Nobody’s going to say anything to him.”
I look back at him. “Nobody?”
“Come on. It’s your business.” He shrugs. “And Quinn’s.”
Something in my chest loosens. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
He pulls out his phone, then pauses. “But maybe stop disappearing into bathrooms with her when he’s thirty yards away.”
“Yeah, okay, fine.”
“And stop looking at her like that.”
“Like what?”
He gives me the same look again.
“Fuck off.”
He laughs and looks down at his phone.
Mine buzzes as the Wi-Fi finally connects.
Quinn:
All good?
Me:
