A warmth brews in my stomach as I observe Wyatt moving across the field, leading, directing, teaching, and entertaining the kids—all at the same time.
But besides this mushy scribble in my belly that the sight of Wyatt’s bare flesh induced in me, there’s also something else I feel. A fluttering in my chest. A spark that’s small but frighteningly familiar.
I squeeze a hand on my chest and breathe in.
I must be careful. A scintilla is all that’s needed to start a devastating conflagration.
Chapter 18
(Wyatt)
After finishing the game, Oliver, Max, and the others accompany us to the park’s exit.
“We’re here on most Fridays. Come by whenever you can,” they shout behind us.
“I’ll try,” I yell back to them, waving.
Their faces light up like the sugar plum fairies in the magical holiday drive-thru Candy Rush I took Mom on when she visited me in Atlanta last Christmas. Seeing their joy, I promise myself that I’ll squeeze in one more game in the park before heading back to my team.
Ellie smiles at me as we merge onto West Encanto Boulevard. “You made their day. Or probably their entire year.” There’s an appreciative edge in her voice and an unusual warmth in her gaze.
“You think?” My chest swells with pride as I think about not only the grins on the kiddos’ faces but also Ellie’s approval.
And all that, while I was having the time of my life.
Ellie bobs her head. “Oh, yeah. Didn’t you see their joy? I bet they’re going to print that picture I snapped of you into a poster, and each of them will tape it above their beds.”
The image of my old room in Kingman flashes into my mind. “I had a picture of Rich Gannon.”
Ellie wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think I ever heard of him.”
I snort. “I imagined, but don’t worry, he’s been sort of overlooked, even by big NFL fans, though he brought the Raiders to Super Bowl XXXVII. And he also won the Most Valuable Player award in 2002.”
“That’s a prize you aspire to also, right?”
“Yeah. Or at least I used to.”
We amble past a large villa covered with creeper vine. There’s a bushy tree in the garden, adorned with vintage tungsten lightbulbs that create a whimsical ambiance. Ellie stops and turns to me. The delicate, golden light shimmers in her green irises.
“Why ‘used to’? Is it not anymore? That night after the Russian ballet, you told me receiving the MVP was your fantasy.”
Ellie naturally mentions our shared memory, obviously forgetting that she’s now violating the rules she set up for us.
I shrug. “It’s still on my bucket list, I guess. But I’m getting farther away from it with each season.”
Ellie’s brows jump up. “You don’t sound as disappointed as I expected. How come?”
She’s right. The same bitterness that spreads in my mouth every time at the thought that my career might end without ever achieving the MVP isn’t there.
Weird.
Ellie studies my face. “You were great with the kids in the park. And you seemed like you had fun.”
“I did. Loads of it. These kids…they just—” I pause because I want to make Ellie understand what’s going on in my chest. “Their eyes glistened with sheer, uncontaminated enthusiasm for football. They didn’t want to win the Super Bowl or get a fat sponsorship through their performance. They just wanted the thrill of the game—like I used to. Being among them made me remember what I truly love about football.”
Ellie’s eyes widen, then she smiles. “I think you’d be an exceptional coach. Perhaps this could be your path once you stop playing for the league.”
“Now you sound like Joe,” I murmur.
“Then he’s a smart man, besides being the third quickest running back who ever played with the Kites.” She winks.
My jaw drops. “Have you been brushing up on your football facts? “
Ellie runs a hand through her curls, and her fingers get stuck on a small knot. She unwinds the strands while answering, “As your therapist, I wanted to know a bit more about Joe since you mentioned you two are friends.”
She’s so darned cute as she justifies herself.
I grin at her. “I’m glad you’re interested in my life. For whatever reason.”
Relief floods her face. “While we’re at it…are there any other influential people I should check out? You know, just to understand your situation better?”
“Guys?” I prompt her.
“Guys…or gals.” She waves her hand nonchalantly, but her expression is flustered.
“Are you asking me if I’m seeing someone?”
“No…yes. I mean, it could be useful to know for treatment purposes.”
“I see.”
She blushes. “So…are you?”
“No.” I tilt my head to the side. “And what about you?”
Her eyes widen. “Me? Why would you ask?”
“Out of curiosity. Not professional, but personal.”
“Personal?” Her features pull into an alarmed mask, and it slaps me in the face.
What am I doing? I’m on an excellent road to building up some trust and a connection with Ellie. “Yeah. A friendly interest.”
Her jaw softens, and she exhales. “Ah, okay. Well, I’m going on a date with Bill on Sunday, as you know.”
The reminder of her dinner with the handsome doctor makes me wince. “Right, your colleague.”
Ellie crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Don’t you dare lecture me on the appropriateness of my decision, please. Bill and I don’t even work in the same unit.”
I hold up my hands. “I didn’t criticize him.” At least not out loud.
“You’d better not.” Ellie’s voice gains a defensive edge. “Bill is a nice man and clever. We’ve elected him as the most popular physician in our establishment for three years in a row.” She clicks her tongue then adds, “Sorry for my snappy tone. I’m probably a bit defensive because Hope and Cora already shared their opinions with me regarding Bill.”
“Aren’t they happy you’re going to go out with him?” I hope Ellie can’t trace the eagerness in my voice.
I can’t hold anything against the doctor. And I can’t justify my badmouthing of him with the cramps I get when I think about him and Ellie sitting together at a candlelit table.
If I’m honest, Bill seemed like an excellent match—good looks (even if too many sparkling teeth for my taste), courteous manners (even if borderline cloying), and a stable, financially rewarding career with enough free time to care for a woman as special as Ellie.
But if Ellie’s roomies were against Bill, then…
Ellie shakes her head. “Cora approves fully. Hope…” She furrows her brows. “She’d probably like Bill more if he were more elusive…that’s her type.”
“But not yours. You want a man who puts you in first place,” I murmur.
She meets my gaze. “Yes, I do.”
I’m not sure what comes over me. It might be those charming freckles of hers, or maybe it’s the still-hot evening air that messes with my brain. All I know is that an unexpected confession bubbles up from my throat. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be that man.”
Her mouth opens. She sucks in a breath, then swallows. “Your apology is accepted.”
“And long overdue,” I add because now that I opened the gates to my remorse about the past, I can’t seem to stop, “I thought that performing well in the league was the most important thing in my life. I feared that having you far away and thinking of you constantly would lower my concentration and weaken my chances of succeeding at the game.”
Her eyes widen. “What are you saying?”
“I took the cowardly road and ended things on the phone because what we had meant too much. Not because it meant too little.”
Ellie shifts from one foot to the other and drops her gaze.
“Ellie…” I pronounce her name slowly, and her gaze sna
ps to my face.
As we stare at each other, it’s like those moments on the gridiron where everything slows down and gets quiet, and I know I’ve decided my next move.
Like on the field, I hand the baton to my cells, which hum with the certainty of how to proceed, instead of asking my conscious mind for help.
My upper body drifts forward.
Her lips open ever so slightly, and her breath catches.
I lift a hand and trace her jawline. The touch of her soft skin awakens so many memories, and also countless new sensations.
They whirl and throb in my arm.
Ellie doesn’t recoil, but her eyes widen. “What are you doing?”
Her words are but a soft whisper, and they compel me to tell her the truth. “I don’t know, Ellie. I seriously don’t know. Do you want me to stop?”
She bites her lip, but before she can answer, a cheerful exclaim sounds from behind.
“Ellie, Wyatt, what a surprise!”
Chapter 19
(Ellie)
Laia’s cheery voice jars me from the trance I’ve fallen into.
“What are you doing here?” I turn to watch my future sister-in-law’s approaching figure. I have no idea how Laia suddenly appeared on this dark boulevard, but her presence might’ve just saved me from a colossal mistake.
Wyatt takes a step back from me, so we almost look like two casual acquaintances who stopped for a chat.
And not like two people about to…
Would I have really kissed him if Laia hadn’t interrupted us?
The yearning gnawing in my throat is a sobering answer.
“I told Devon it was you, but he didn’t believe me.” Laia grins as she gets closer.
I force my lips to curl upward. “Where is he? Isn’t he with you?” My smirk is likely asymmetrical, but I hope it still camouflages my embarrassment.
Laia nods. “Yep. Dev’s just parking the car, but I jumped out because I wanted to check if I was right.” She throws me an inquiring glance, then her eyes, which now more than ever resemble a curious Siamese cat’s, move to Wyatt’s face. “So you…”
Before she can ask her question, Wyatt and I launch into blabbering at the same time.
“We just bumped into each other,” I mumble.
“We met by chance,” he mutters.
Laia snorts amusedly and holds up her hands. “Hey, relax. I’m not the police. You’re allowed to do whatever you want, with whomever you please. But if you want Devon to believe you just ran into each other, relax your jaws and shake your shoulders a bit. You look like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.” She tops her cheeky phrase with a foxy smile that tells me she’s making some wild conjectures about what Wyatt and I were doing.
My stomach quivers, and I can’t bear to glance at Wyatt. He doesn’t know that I’ve confessed to Laia and Cora about our past.
Wyatt immediately eases his posture and shifts his weight backward. “Speaking of Dev…weren’t you and my friend supposed to have dinner with your cousin?”
“Yeah,” I chime in. “You told me this afternoon that Eva and Nathan were flying in. Where are they?”
I throw a quick, slanted glance at Wyatt to show him how much I appreciate his promptness in redirecting the conversation. Wyatt responds with an imperceptible wink.
His conspiratorial gesture makes me remember how, when we were secretly dating, Wyatt and I used to orchestrate plausible excuses in perfect synchrony to deaden any suspicion.
Strangely, this memory doesn’t awaken any bitter feelings. Instead, I recall our white lies with a particular fondness.
“They went back to their hotel already, “Laia replies. “Eva didn’t feel good, so we cut the meal short.”
“What’s the matter with her?” I arch my brows. It’s hard to imagine Laia’s feisty cousin being anything but healthy and full of life.
Instead of a worried grimace, sheer joy spreads on Laia’s face. “She’s pregnant. I’m going to be an auntie!”
“That’s wonderful!” I clap my hands. Eva has become a friend to me this past year, and I’m thrilled for her happiness.
“Congratulations to her. And to her husband,” Wyatt says. “Starting a family is a big and extraordinary step.”
Laia lifts a brow. “One you might consider in the future?”
Wyatt clears his throat. “One that every man should experience someday.”
“With the right woman,” Laia interjects with a grin.
My cheeks heat.
What is Laia trying to do? Doesn’t she remember that I have no interest in knowing what Wyatt’s future intentions are?
“Yes, indeed.” Wyatt’s baritone turns smooth and husky, just like when he asked me if I wanted him to stop only a moment ago.
The small hairs on the back of my neck lift. I wish it were illegal for men to speak in such a seductive drawl.
“Look, there’s Dev!” I’m glad when my brother offers the opportunity to direct my attention away from the mushy swishing in my ribcage.
Devon comes over to us. “So you were right, my love.” He smiles at Laia then shakes his head. “Katja’s obsession with scheduling me for a physical is too much, perhaps, but I should probably think about that eye exam she’s been chewing my ears about.”
Katja is my brother’s secretary and self-designated health coach. She considers it her responsibility to revolutionize Devon’s coffee drinking habits and motivate him to attend all possible preventive medical appointments.
Wyatt grins. “You’d look cute as a bug in a pair of glasses.”
My brother rolls his eyes. “Time catches up with all of us, my friend. Even warriors like you.”
I expect Wyatt’s smile to tighten. He told me how worried he was about his age and the influence it will have on his career. But he laughs at my brother. “Yeah, we don’t get younger, but perhaps it ain’t that bad. With age comes much-needed wisdom.”
Devon chuckles. “Yep.” He throws his arm around Laia’s waist and squeezes her. “I’m sure glad I grew more mature. I used to be a dope before—”
“—before you discovered what’s truly good for you…” Laia raises herself to her tiptoe and plants a soft kiss on his neck.
My brother beams at her. “I did.” Then he turns to Wyatt and me. “So, what are you doing here?”
Although he doesn’t add, “I didn’t expect to see you two together,” his puzzled glint conveys this omitted part perfectly.
Wyatt and I exchange a glance, and with a small wiggle of my brow, I let him know I’ll take the lead. It’s better not to jump into each other’s sentences like we did with Laia.
“I went to Daisy’s Creamery,” I say, pointing toward the road that leads back to the park. “I guess I wasn’t alone in my wish to get good ice cream, because as I entered, Wyatt was there, too.”
“How do you even know that ice cream parlor?” Devon asks. “I never took you there, did I?”
Wyatt shrugs. “I didn’t know it. I stumbled upon it.”
“A coincidence,” Laia says, giving me a glance that suggests she would’ve loved to say “serendipity” but restrained herself for my sake.
While Laia speaks, I catch Devon tilt his head toward me and mouth a silent “Truce for good?” at Wyatt.
When my brother realizes I’m watching him, he adds in a jovial tone, “So, what flavors did you pick, mate? I love their cream and cognac.”
“Sweet avocado cayenne,” Wyatt answers.
My brother’s eyes flick to me. “Your favorite, huh? You convinced someone else to try that weird flavor that looks like whipped lettuce.”
“Hilarious,” I answer. “It’s their best creation. Period. And it’s not just me who thinks so. Monica only had one portion left tonight—which just proves my point.”
Devon grabs at his chest and his forehead drifts into theatrical bewilderment. “And is the parlor still intact, or did the windows crack from you two bickering over who would get that last delightf
ul scoop?”
Laia taps his shoulder. “Dev, cut it out. They obviously shared it. Didn’t you?”
My neck prickles as I hum a soft, “Yeah, we did.” I don’t know why I feel so abashed about confessing this. It’s not like dividing a ladleful of ice cream is an intimate act.
Laia smiles at me warmly, then her eyes move to Wyatt. “Since you’re here, would you like to join us for a walk in Encanto? It’s so nice around the lagoon at night.”
And romantic.
Which is probably why Laia suggested it to us. I know exactly what my dreamy future-sister-in-law is doing, and I disapprove.
Wyatt rubs his neck. “I should head home. I have an early appointment tomorrow. Joe, my teammate and friend, is in Phoenix for this weekend. He wants me to show him a nice spot for a run, so we scheduled an early jog over at South Mountain Park.”
Devon’s face illuminates. “What time are you meeting?”
“Joe proposed sunrise because of the heat, but I convinced him that 6:30 am would still be fine.”
My brother, a passionate jogger who knows all the trails in and around Phoenix, nods. “Should be okay, especially if you turn around at Fat Man’s Pass and detour back through Hidden Valley instead of doing the total distance. I might even join you.” He blinks at Laia. “Would you mind?”
Laia smiles. “Not unless you want me to come too. I’m still sore from today’s yoga.”
Wyatt pumps his fist in the air. “Great. Joe and I…”
While Wyatt and Devon discuss the details, I use the occasion to talk some sense into Laia. I grab her elbow and pull her slightly away from the guys.
“Stop playing the matchmaker,” I tell her in a low voice.
Laia’s eyes widen, and she blushes. “I wasn’t—”
“Yes, you were,” I whisper-snap at her. “You made several dubious comments, and you suggested that walk too.”
She sighs. “Fine. Perhaps I tried to interfere. But do you remember when you believed your brother and I would be perfect for each other?”
Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) Page 16