Fourth Down (Portland Pioneers 1)

Nineteen

Autumn

I’m awake before my alarm goes off and tired. I didn’t sleep well last night. Aside from tossing and turning, my mind raced with everything Julius said on the phone, and I still can’t believe I hinted at sex with him. What the hell is wrong with me? We’ve been on one date—if you can even call it that—and I’m talking about taking the guy to bed. He really must think I’m some type of . . . I don’t even know what the right word is. Whatever it may be, I am feeling it through and through. I should’ve never opened my mouth and said those things.

And now I get to face him all while meeting his son, who may or may not like me after today.

“No pressure,” I say aloud to my ceiling. I want to meet his son. I know his children aren’t going anywhere, and I would never ask him to choose between me and them, but I think this is worse than meeting parents. Kids can be tough. Harsh, even. What if Reggie hates me and Julius stops talking to me?

Too many what-ifs, and none of them are going to get resolved if I dwell on them.

I throw the covers back and get out of bed. Leaving my hair in the messy bun I put it up in last night, I step into the shower and let the hot water run down my back. I tell myself everything will be okay, and it will be if I manifest nothing but happy thoughts.

My nerves are on edge by the time I reach the parking garage. All morning, or at least the couple of hours I’ve been awake, I thought about texting Julius to cancel or check-in and make sure I’m still wanted at the game. I figured if his son had changed his mind, Julius would’ve told me.

With the address plugged into the GPS, I head toward the field where the game is. It’s in a part of town I haven’t been to, which isn’t shocking since I haven’t done much exploring since moving here, but on the way, I spot a donut and coffee shop and think I should bring some breakfast.

Except, while I’m standing in line, I realize donuts are not the most nutritious thing to give to children, and Julius may not appreciate the sugar rush. I think about heading back to my car, but I really need coffee and want to bring one to Julius. When it’s my turn in line, I order a half dozen assorted muffins, thinking these are a safer choice than sugary donuts, and two large coffees, along with two bottles of chocolate milk.

When I get to the field, there’s no mistaking there’s a game going on or about to start. There are three small sets of bleachers on one side of the field, and numerous chairs are set-up, some with umbrellas. Most parents seem to have banners or some type of sign for their son, and I wonder what Julius brought with him.

I walk toward the stands with my arms full, hoping and praying Julius is already here and things won’t be awkward. I’m thankful I decided to wear a ballcap and still have my sunglasses on. While I’m becoming more recognizable, I don’t want to be today. I’m sure Julius draws enough attention by being at the game. I’d rather stay incognito. I don’t wish to take any attention away from Reggie and his team. Unfortunately, Roxy has other ideas, spotting me and immediately yelling out my newest nickname—TV lady. I don’t understand what it is with these Cunninghams but their nicknames leave a lot to be desired.

Roxy is the first to approach me, and she does so in a fashion I’m unaccustomed to. Her little arms wrap around my legs, causing me to stagger a bit, and when she lets go, she jumps up and down, like she wants me to pick her up.

“Roxy, stop,” Julius says, and she does. Julius reaches for the box of muffins, which has the drink carrier full of our drinks on top of it and takes it from me. I’m tempted to lean in and kiss him but remember how I’ve suggested the PDA be kept at a minimum, at least for now. We’re friends until we reach a point of defining ourselves as more.

“Daddy says you was coming.”

Julius chokes at his daughter's choice of words, and I feel my cheeks flush. Leave it to the three-year-old to say the most innocent thing, and her father and I turn it into a sexual innuendo.

“We’re sitting over here,” Julius says, motioning toward the bleachers. Roxy takes my hand and pulls me to follow behind her father. Julius looks over his shoulder and smiles instantly. My heart leaps with admiration for this little girl. I don’t want to think how Roxy or I will feel if things don’t work out for her father and me. I pick her up when we get to the riser and step up after her, apologizing to the few people I have to pass in front of.