“Okay, I don’t ever want to compare anyone, especially my rebound to my ex, but I like hearing that you know what position I play. She was completely ignorant of football, never quite understanding why I loved the game, maybe more than I cared for her.”
“I’m sorry. I get that she would have wanted to be more important to you than a game, but you could tell just watching you play, that it meant the world to you. You weren’t in it for the money or the fame. I remember the playoffs two years ago, when Green Bay intercepted, and you were knocked out of the playoffs; that was pure heart.”
Damn he loved listening to her talk. She nailed it; that play had shattered him. “Send me the link to follow your blog. If we’re going to talk shop on our date, I want to be well informed.”
“I won’t say I love it like you love football. It’s more of a hobby. A marginally profitable one.”
“Does it make you happy?”
“Yeah. Yeah it does. I like making things look fresh and new and homey and welcoming.”
“Then I want to see it.”
“Okay. I’ll text you the link.”
A fist pounding on his bedroom door scared the shit out of him. What had he been saying about getting his own place? Good to be home, but a shred of privacy would be nice.
Pops sounded confused, his rumbling voice asking, “Finn? Pete messaged me, wants to know if he’s supposed to be working tonight or not?”
“Shit, sorry.” He stood up and the towel unlatched, falling to the ground as he moved to find clean clothes. He covered the receiver and hollered, “No, I’m heading in to work in a few, thanks.”
Haley yelped, “Oh, shit, me too. I said I’d be at Grady and Claire’s at five. I’m not even dressed yet.”
Insta-hard, he cleared his throat and couldn’t help but ask, “Really? Is it too soon to ask what you’re wearing?”
Enticingly lyrical, her laugh trilled as she answered, “If you must know, I had just put my clothes for tonight in the dryer when I got out my new sheets, so, well, I am in nothing but a bra and panties.”
Exhaling slowly, he tried to find his voice. “I knew I shouldn’t have asked. This hard-on’s not going anywhere, anytime soon. I may as well call in sick.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet.”
Chuckling, he snagged a t-shirt from his top drawer. “Hey, honesty is the best policy, right?”
“I think I’m liking this rebound thing. What time are you picking me up tomorrow?”
“Would it be pathetic if I said noon?”
“Noon would be fine, but we might beat the dinner rush by, you know, a few hours.”
He chuckled. “Pick you up at six? It’s about an hour away if we take the backroads. If we’re early, there’s a nice trail by the restaurant.”
“Perfect. See you then.”
8
Turnover
Hangingupthephone,Haley rushed to her stacks of clothes along the wall and grabbed a breezy tank top that made her feel pretty but required no effort. She was so late. And she really, really didn’t want to explain why.
She had completely lost track of time; if his dad hadn’t interrupted, they might have talked all night. Dashing to the laundry room, she snagged her jeans from the dryer. Shoes, shoes… where the hell were they? Before furniture, maybe she should pick up a shoe rack and shelves for the closet. Having her bedroom wall lined with stacks of clothes was getting annoying.
Her phone buzzed. Claire.Left yet?
Hopping in the car as we speak.Well, she was almost in the car.
Don’t. Change in plans; we’ll pick you up and go out to dinner.
Long pause.
