Playing to Win

“That’s torture!” Shari poked my ribs making me jump out of her reach. “You don’t like being tickled!”

At all. I hated being tickled. But Caleb loved it. Even though he squirmed to get away from me when I tickled him, he’d get mad if I stopped.

“He loves it,” I told her before nuzzling his fleshy neck with my chin. I could listen to my little brother giggle all day long, he was so cute. “I can let him crawl around my room for a bit while you finish dinner,” I offered. Caleb liked getting into all my stuff and I didn’t mind having him around.

“That would be great. Just make sure he doesn’t put anything in his mouth,” she warned.

“Don’t worry. I’ve Caleb-proofed my room.” And I’d check the floor again before putting him down.

“Alright, then. Thanks, Asher.” Shari turned back to dinner preparations and I hauled Caleb up to my room and shut the door. If I didn’t he’d crawl out and try to fall down the stairs. He and I had been working on going down backwards but sometimes he still tried to go down head first and that was a visit to the hospital waiting to happen.

“‘Kay, bud, here you go.” I set him on the carpet with a few of his toys from the last time he came to visit my room and a handful of things he probably shouldn’t have like my magic 8-ball and the remote to my television, but he loved to play with them and I made sure to keep an eye on him.

“Ba!” Caleb shouted, bringing both fists down at his sides.

“Okay, okay, sheesh,” I muttered as I rolled the 8-ball across the short distance between us on the carpet. He picked it up and immediately brought it to his mouth. It was too big to fit, of course, so he basically just slobbered all over it, but I didn’t care.

Caleb and I played with his toys for a little while, but then he got distracted with a pile of socks (they were clean!) and I wandered over to my window. My bedroom sat on the corner at the back of the house and it had two windows, one facing the side yard and one facing the back. Standing by the one facing the backyard, I could clearly see the house behind ours, the one where Jordan lived. She said her bedroom faced her backyard and I took a few minutes to study each of the three windows on the upper level of the Parks’s house. One was clearly a bathroom, it had frosted glass and was too small to be a bedroom. But the other two were similar enough I had no idea which one might be Jordan’s.

Since she told me where she lived, I’d been thinking of a way to get her to hang out with me. I doubted it would be as simple as asking her, so I needed a plan. And hopefully, the one I’d come up with would work.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jordan

Nothing like another tense evening in the Parks household. Payton didn’t look up from his plate once, making quick work of his dinner, before escaping to his room as soon as possible. After helping Mom clean up the dinner dishes, I did the same thing. I’d only had a few math problems for homework and finished them during advising. With no homework to distract me, I caught myself dwelling on the conversation I’d had with Asher in the parking lot after school more than I wanted to.

Beyond the embarrassment of getting caught humming the song he’d been playing in his backyard the night before, I didn’t know what to think about the way he made me feel. There was no use denying I wanted him to kiss me, but every time I thought about giving in to the attraction I felt, I remembered my rule and why it existed in the first place.

Think about it. Why did people always say you shouldn’t date your boss? Or your brother’s best friend? Or the nanny? Because it put something important on the line. A job. A friendship. A child’s wellbeing. Same thing with dating a teammate. It put the team on the line, brought romantic drama where there shouldn’t be. I had a dream to play competitive hockey at the highest level. Playing for my dad gave me the best shot. The kinds of feelings I had for Asher threatened everything I’d been working for.

Wait.

Tilting my head, I strained my ears to listen.

What was that?

Jordan, Jordan.

I know you can hear me.

Why won’t you come near me?

I’m writing this song for you-ooh, ooh.