“I want to thank Emma and Skye. It couldn’t have been easy standing around in those heels all night. When you sign LyteAs as a sponsor, it’ll be your turn to thank them but I don’t think they deserve to wait that long.”
Kenzie stares at me for a long moment, but I’ve stared down forwards who want to pummel me into the mud. She’s no match. “Fine, you’re lucky I like you.” She scrolls through her phone, then reads off the numbers.
I save them to my phone, send Kenzie the number for LyteAs, and grin like I’ve solved world hunger. She rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything as I head back inside.
I call Skye first. The conversation is quick—she’s bubbly and excited to hear about the sponsorship lead. I keep it professional, thanking her and the squad for their effort last night, then hang up.
Now comes the hard part.
I dial Emma’s number, my heart pounding like I’m about to make a game-winning play. It rings twice before she picks up.
“Hello?” Her voice is soft but guarded, like she’s expecting bad news.
“It’s Dylan,” I say.
A pause. “How did you get my number?”
“Kenzie. I wanted to thank you for last night. The team appreciates it. And so does LyteAs, the cordless drill company. I’ve connected them with Kenzie, and after they sign with the team, there may be some paid promotional opportunities coming your way.”
Her laugh is quiet but genuine, and I relax a little.
“Gee, I thought Stuart from Biowhatever would sponsor the team to get my number.”
“Dunno.” I match her banter. “But if he gets your number, let me know and I’ll deal with his whatever.”
I love her laugh. I could bottle her laugh and pull it out at the end of a loss, and the world would still keep spinning. “Okay,” she says. “Thanks for the call.”
“Wait.” I run a hand through my hair, scrambling for the right words. “Look, about last night.”
“Dylan,” she warns.
“I’m not calling to make it awkward,” I cut in. “I just think we need to clear the air. Can we meet for coffee after practice? Just to talk.”
She hesitates, and civilizations rise and fall while I hold my breath.
“Fine,” she says at last. “But just coffee.”
“I’ll text you the address.”
This is my chance. Now, I need to get my head back into study mode. I still have a paper to write in between watching videos of this week’s opposition and meeting Emma. Who said that footballers don’t know how to multitask?
Chapter 12
More Than Coffee
Emma
My hands won’t stop shaking.
I clutch my phone, staring at the message Dylan sent after our phone call
Dylan:See you at 3, if you’re brave enough.
I’ll give himbrave enough.I imagine his sexy smirk as he sent the message.
Me to Sage: Do you want me to come home early?
My sister takes seconds to respond
