The Game Plan

“Hey, mum. I’m fine.”

“You sound like you’re face down in bed.”

Close enough. I sit up and smooth my hair back from my face. “Bad co

“Lovely. I’ve been meaning to tell you how proud I am of you for landing that position. I couldn’t be happier, Fiona.”

Right. A ragged breath gets caught in my chest. “Thanks.”

“And you know, if you keep at it, soon you’ll have your own design firm.”

She’s being encouraging. But I know her enough to hear the slightly desperate tone under it all: Please, Fiona, keep at it. Don’t quit this time.

I heard the same tone every time I changed my major. Every time I asked to learn an instrument or join a dance class. I can’t even blame her, because I quit all of those classes and camps, usually just a few days into them.

Grimacing, I turn my chair away from the open office space and face the window.

My mom keeps chattering. “And how were Ivy and Gray? And my little poppet?”

“All fine and well. Leo is getting bigger.” And louder.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Mom had been there for the birth and instantly became a doting grandmum—as she insists on being called. “I tell you, he has my eyes.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Mom, his eyes are blue.”

Hers are green like mine.

“All babies’ eyes are blue. His will turn. And they look like mine.”

Anyone can see that Leo has Gray’s eyes. Down to the exact shade of blue. But I don’t argue. “How’s the business?” I ask instead. My mom owns a chain of bakeries. Ivy was supposed to go into partnership with her but chose to be an agent like our dad instead.

I don’t know who was more shocked by that—Mom, Dad, or me. Ivy hated how Dad’s business pulled him away from our family almost as much as I did. Yet here we are, Ivy as an agent and, hell, me falling for a football player.

As my mom talks about her shops, the image of Dex’s grin—so rare but so gorgeous, framed by his lush, dark beard—pops into my mind. My palms tingle with the need to run over it, to smooth over the massive swell of his hard, hot chest.

I swallow and focus on Mom. She’s telling me about a yeast delivery gone bad, her voice breathy with exasperation, and I blink hard. I miss her. I miss Dex. I miss everyone.

I clutch my phone, feeling lost and abandoned, which is ridiculous. No one has left me behind. I’m here because it’s where I chose to be. This is life. Like some messed-up game of Boggle, it shakes us all up, and we land where we fall.

This isn’t even close to the first time I’ve felt this way. But usually I’m able to distract myself with friends and parties and laughter. Only I can’t find it in me to laugh anymore. And I wonder if this is the only way life can be. Because I want some fucking control back.

Chapter Nineteen

Dex

“Look, it’s Sinatra!” Delgado, my fellow lineman, shouts when I walk into the locker room.

I’m greeted with a rousing chorus of “Gold on the Ceiling,” all of it off-key and loud. I’d been informed by a cackling Gray that video of my karaoke performance had gone viral. If that hadn’t been enough, the ESPN highlight, complete with accompanying jokes, made it clear I’d get my fair share of shit come Monday morning.

“Yeah, yeah,” I wave an idle hand. “Laugh it up, fuzzballs.”

Sampson, a nose tackle, makes an attempt to roar like Chewbacca but ends up choking, which cracks the guys up even more.

Gri

“Say what you’re go

He’s still gri

“Pretty sure there’s a lot you don’t know about me.” I’ve stripped down to get in my gear when I catch his eye. He’s no longer smug but serious.

“That’s kind of the point,” he says. “You’re my center.”

His words give me pause. I like Fi

“Come out for a beer with me later,” I suggest. “And I’ll tell you all about my wild week.”

He looks at me with those famous baby blues that have women all over America sighing and throwing their panties in his direction. Doesn’t do anything for me, but I’m comfortable enough in my manhood to see what chicks dig about him. I guess I’m doomed to always cover pretty boys.

“Yeah,” he says. “Sounds good.” He moves to go but then halts. “Hell. We’ve got that photo shoot at four.”

A scowl works across his face, and now I’m the one who’s laughing. “Ah, the charity calendar. Thought that would be right up your alley, GQ.”

Apparently not, if his disgusted look is anything to go by. “Charity, yes. I’d just rather do it talking to a bunch of kids or something, not offering my ass up like a side of beef.”

“Aw, Ma

“Keep ru

I suit up, more than happy for the attention to slide off of me and back to Ma

“Guess I know who’ll be the lead in our a

“Didn’t know we had a musical, Coach.” I toss my empty bottle into the trash.

He turns to me. “Maybe we should start one now.” Giving me a slap on the back, he ambles off with a, “Good work, Dex.”

I watch him go, and it occurs to me that although I’ve played for this team for going on two years, I haven’t really engaged. It’s too easy for me to hide away from the world. But laughing with my team, not taking shit too seriously, it feels good.

I could be happy, genuinely happy. There’s only one thing missing, and she’s over a thousand miles away.

Fiona

I’m headed out for drinks when Dex calls. Which has me gri

“Hey, Cherry.” His deep voice gives me a little thrill. Every single time. “What you up to?”

“Going out for drinks with A

“Drew’s A

“Yep. We’ve gotten to know each other over the years. Gray always invites her and Drew to spend Christmas with us.”

Drew lost both his parents when he was in high school, and Gray lost his mother to cancer around the same time. Gray has made it a priority never to let Drew go a holiday without family. “Family” being him, and now Ivy and me.

“Right, I forgot about that. Kind of kicking myself for going home to my parents’ instead of to Gray’s Christmas party last year,” Dex says with a wry laugh.

Because he’d been invited too. Every year.

“You were being a good son,” I say.

“I was avoiding the temptation of you,” he answers.

It makes me stumble. Frowning, I quicken my step. “Why did you avoid me?”

He sighs, and I can imagine him rubbing a hand along his beard the way he does when he doesn’t want to admit something. “Well, last year you were still in college, and I was a rookie in the NFL. There was absolutely no hope of us ever seeing each other. And, besides, you were Gray’s baby sister-in-law.”