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“But you are welcome to stay and hang out for a bit.” I’m not sure where that came from, but I mean it.

I like having him here, and he is fun. Maybe I should explore the possibility of friend opportunities with him. He is my brother’s best friend and all, and I don’t expect that to change anytime soon. Calvin’s been friendly and kind to me for years, always inviting and including me. Maybe I should do the same to him?

He looks slightly taken aback by my question, but he agrees easily.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” His voice is gravelly.

“Sure. Take charge,” I say while handing him the remote.

His pupils darken, and his eyes flick down my body, taking me in for a quick second.

He clears his throat. “Okay. Let’s find a good one.”

We make our way over to the couch, just a few short steps away. He sits down first on the right side of the couch, and I plop down on the other side, leaving some distance between us.

Calvin flips through the channels before settling on a romantic comedy. “Is this okay?” his voice rumbles in my ear.

I raise an eyebrow. “A rom-com? You can pick whatever you want, and that’s what you choose?”

He shrugs. “Thought you’d like it.”

“Me?” I’m flabbergasted. “What about you?”

“I don’t really care what we watch. Is this okay? Do you like romance movies?”

“I rarely watch them. I’ve never found them to be realistic,” I admit to him. I did when I was a teenage girl, more than many, but I haven’t watched one in years. Life is not like the movies, unless it’s a super depressing one. “But we can watch it if you want.”

“Okay. I think you need a little romance in your life,” he comments casually, and I’m not sure if he’s talking about the movie or something else, but I doubt I’ll ever have romance in my life again.

Chapter Thirteen

Calvin

Ifeel off, a little out of control, to be honest. I don’t know why, and I certainly don’t know what to do about it. My eyes take in the locker room, my teammates boisterous after a long day of practice and film.

I’m itchy and my skin doesn’t feel completely right.

I throw my cleats into my locker and turn to find a target when my eyes land on one of the largest men in the room.

Sebastian.

I stroll over to him, and in a high-pitched voice, I chirp, “You may want to switch positions, because you really excel at defense.“

A nearby teammate snickers at my words. It’s not the first time they’ve heard me or other guys on the team utter the words to our right tackle, although I’m the one responsible for the start of it.

Earlier in the year, I was out at a bar in South Boston with Sebastian and a few other teammates and their partners. I was standing at the counter, chilling with Sebastian, when a feisty brunette stomped over to him and gave him a piece of his mind. At the end of her passionate speech, she told him he should switch positions because he really excels at defense. I remind him often, especially when our defense is shaky on the field. I always let him know he should help them out since I’m such a great friend.

I’ve known the man for five years, and I’ve never been so entertained by an encounter with him. He’s not known as a ladies’ man by any stretch, and often misses flirting cues, but this was something else.

“Shut up,” Sebastian retorts, but it doesn’t have the same heat as it usually does.

Hm, interesting.

His eyes are on his phone instead of me, and his comeback is lamer than usual.

“Seen your lady friend lately?” another player chimes in, but Sebastian shrugs.

Hm, very interesting.