Grabbing our bags, we headed inside. I gave a quick tour before suggesting we go for lunch. I drove away from the city, knowing Nate wouldn’t mind the forty-five minute drive. He was a country boy through and through, so he was all about commuting and not making a big deal out of distances.
“This place has the best Juicy Lucys.” I grinned at his puzzled look.
“A juicy what now?”
“You’re in for a treat. Let me order some, and we can head to the pond to eat if you want?” I wasn’t hassled for long whenever I came here, but I wanted Nate all to myself. Not having to worry about anyone eavesdropping if we sat on one of the benches outside instead was a big draw.
“Sounds good. I’m game for the whole USA experience.”
We ducked inside, and I made our order to go, only having to sign a couple of autographs, which still blew my mind. There was no getting away from my accent, though, and it didn’t take folks long to figure out who I was.
Nate smirked at me, his eyes bright and directed my way.
As I signed a young kid’s cap, I blushed when my gaze connected with Nate’s. “Here you go. You make sure you keep cheering next season, okay,” I said to the kid, dragging my gaze away from the intensity of Nate’s focus.
“Will do, Mr. Broadwater. Thanks a lot.”
The kid was cute. I ruffled his hair, then shook hands with the boy’s dad. They called my order, and I all but dragged Nate out of there. I was never really comfortable with attention off the court, but under the added scrutiny of Nate, discomfort prickled my skin.
Once out in the fresh air, I took a deep breath.
“You doing okay over there?” Concern lifted his words.
I glanced at him, grinning at the hoodie he wore. He hadn’t been kidding about his reaction to the seventy-degree temperature. It hadn’t taken me long to acclimatize to the real seasons they had out here. For Nate, he’d be feeling it.
Seventy was a fairly cool winter’s day on the Sunshine Coast.
“Yeah,” I answered, taking him in and embracing the feeling of how good it felt to be around Nate again.
“You hate the whole celebrity thing, huh?”
I bobbed my head and led him off to one of the park benches.
“I know you said it made you uncomfortable, but it’s not all bad, is it?” He gestured toward the bench, and I nodded, taking a seat next to him.
“No, it’s not all bad. Kids like that are great. I love that they’re fans. Ones who adore the game. It’s just the gossip rag attention that can be grueling.” It was hard to look away with his focus on me, especially as he seemed to listen so carefully to every word I said.
“I’ve seen a few shots and articles of you over the years.” The pink in his cheeks, right alongside his words, had me pausing from unwrapping my burger.
Embarrassment flickered to life in my chest, and I cleared my throat. “You have?” It had been a long time since I’d googled myself. Yeah, I was on Insta again, but that was as far as social media went.
“Yeah.” The pink turned a darker shade. I latched on to his reaction and tried to shake off my discomfort. This was Nate, my oldest friend. This was the kind of shit we would have taken the piss out of each other about when we were younger. I longed for that past so much. Fucking yearned for it.
I relaxed my shoulders, a small smile tilting my lips. “You been googling me, Griffin?”
This time his lips kicked up into a smirk. “I may have done a time or two.”
I quirked my brow at him. As far as I was aware, there weren’t any dodgy images of me floating around.
“You discover anything interesting?”
There was a brief pause before he responded. “Not especially. Mainly action shots of you on the court, a few pics of you at events with a gorgeous woman on your arm.” Curiosity colored his words.
While this wasn’t the place to discuss anything significant, I offered, “There are some events where bringing a date is expected.”
Nate nodded. “They made you look good,” he teased.
I snorted. “Whatever. Eat your damn Juicy Lucy before it goes cold, smartass.”
