She rewards me with a shy smile. “My friends are going to think I’m nuts.”
“Are they the kind of friends who’ll support you?”
After another long sip of her water, she nods. “With endless trash-talking, but yeah, they will.”
“Is this something you want?”
She huffs a full breath. “I love gymnastics, but it’s not as much of a team as I wish it was. Everyone’s kind of doing their own thing. I mean, we root for each other and stuff, but being on the cheer team…” She glances down the track, then out to the field. “If they want me, and I can fit in…”
There’s a yearning in her gaze that taps my heartstrings. Damn, this girl is brave.
I give my new bracelet a spin. It makes me appreciate him even more, knowing he’s pushed his daughter to reach for the stars. She’s a lucky kid, that’s for sure.
She shrugs. “I mean, I guess we’ll see, right?”
I smile. “Yep.”
We watch the video provided by the team captain for practice purposes, run through the cheer again, then move into the simple dance. It’s fun and a little saucy with hip rolls and a high kick and by the time we master it, we’re both smiling.
While Greta runs it from the top, with the music, I gulp water while catching my breath, then stretch out my hamstrings. People who say cheer isn’t a sport should spend an hour giving it a try.
“Yes, girl!” I call out when Greta rolls her hips with a sassy smirk, then hops from a V to a high kick that touches the clouds. When she finishes, beaming, I slip my pinky between my lips for a whistle—a trick my dad taught me.
From the stands comes a round of applause. I turn, shading my eyes. Sitting beneath the overhang is Linden, his long, bare legsand muscular forearms coated with a sheen of sweat. Did he go for one of his epic runs while we practiced?
His quick brown eyes flit from me to his daughter, a thoughtful expression on his face. How long has he been up there, watching?
He trots down the steps, emerging from the shadows. The sunlight ripples over his arms, highlighting his tattoos. I haven’t had the chance to count how many birds are etched across his shoulder, but there must be dozens. Questions I don’t have the nerve to ask bounce around in my head, teased to life by the tiny scraps of what he’s shared.
A long time ago, a firefighter came to his rescue.Someone was there for me in a way that changed my life. What did he save Linden from?
And somehow, he knows about Trina’s past.Though she gained her freedom, healing from that kind of upbringing…it’s an uphill battle.Did Linden have a similar upbringing? Will he ever tell me about it?
I spin back to Greta. “What about your tumbling pass?”
Greta wipes her brow again. “I don’t need to practice that.”
There’s that bright confidence again. “I’ve got a layover in Anchorage tomorrow. We could FaceTime and you could run through it one more time?”
Her eyes light up. “You’d do that?”
Linden vaults over the stairway to the track, his easy grace momentarily snagging my attention. “You know it.”
Linden crosses his arms and squints at us both. “Can I interest either of you in a lake swim, maybe followed by lunch from the Sweet Spot?”
“Yes please!” Greta cries, bouncing over to the sidelines to pack up her things.
Linden gazes slowly up my body. “What about you, coach?”
It’s a harmless nickname, and appropriate considering the wayI just spent the last two hours, but I can’t help the way my lips twist.
Linden’s eyes cloud, and he rubs down his chin, the stubble scratching against his callouses. “Shit. I didn’t think about…” He takes a step closer. “Your mom. You must have so many memories.”
I force in a soothing breath but the lump in my throat has grown little hooks. “I had a great time with Greta,” I manage.
Greta whips past us in a flawless cartwheel followed by a round off, then folds seamlessly into a handstand.
“From what I saw, looks like she had fun too,” Linden says. His smile is kind, easy. It lights up the gold flecks in his eyes and softens his features. It’s genuine. Disarming.
