“All right, who’s up first?”
With Allyson’s unexpected success, all the boys are chomping at the bit to get a shot at me. None of them are successful, but they have a damn good time trying. They find success in counting the number of steps back they can push me, and I fight harder to hold my line, making them work for each and every inch.
They’re gonna be a great team come game time.
Too quickly, our first practice with the new coaching lineup is over. It went better than I expected, honestly. I was afraid we’d resort to snarky biting remarks or thinly-veiled insults. The not-quite grind was definitely preferable, though embarrassing.
We gather up, rallying around for our cheer. Allyson’s hand lays on mine and all I can think of is taking her soft palm in my rough, callused one. But then the rest of the team’s sweaty hands pile in and we count down. “Three, two, one . . . GO WILDCATS!” The dogpile of hands dissipates instantly, but I feel Allyson’s hand leave mine in slow motion.
The kids all make a run for the parking lot, parents trailing behind.
“You got the boys tonight or is Michelle coming?” I ask without playing the words in my head. I realize a heartbeat too late that they sound rather damning. “I mean, I figured we should talk through some of the team stuff.”
Her face relaxes slightly, though she still looks wary of me. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’m taking the boys home, but they can hang for a few.” She looks over to Cooper and Liam, giving them permission to play. “Just stay close so you can hear me when it’s time to go.”
They run off toward the duck pond, their laughter echoing back to us in the wind.
Chapter 14
Allyson
“That went pretty well,” I say with certainty, but then I hedge. “I think.”
Bruce grunts but is making progress with actual words. “Mostly. Except for the part where you tackled me.”
He’s teasing me and has an actual smile breaking across his face when it’s just the two of us. It’s breathtaking, especially when it reaches his eyes. They sparkle like I haven’t seen in way too long, though the once-familiar light is surrounded by new crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
I push at his shoulder playfully, wanting the easiness to continue. “You told me to.”
Oh, shit. I’m flirting.
Am I flirting? I didn’t mean to, but it just happened. When was the last time I actually did this?
A quick flashback of the handful of dates I went on after my divorce plays across my mind like a flickering movie. It seemed like the thing to do at the time, a ‘hop back up on that horse’ mentality, and I’d wanted to show Jeremy, and myself, that I was fine. I think the ink was still wet on my divorce papers when I’d downloaded a popular dating app.
I quickly realized after a few dates that I wasn’t fine or ready and just as quickly deleted the app, choosing instead to take the time to work on me, in particular undoing all the mental shit Jeremy did to me.
I’ve been happy for a while now, but somehow, it never seemed like riding that horse again was in my cards. Too busy, too focused on Cooper, too proud of being on my own.
But here in this moment, flirting with Bruce feels easy and natural.
“That’s true, but I wasn’t expecting to slip and end up in the grass. You got me good.” The smallest chuckle makes his chest shake, making me feel victorious that I’ve made this beast Bruce has become smile and laugh.
Maybe this is going to be okay? This has got to be a good sign that we can work together for the kids and no one will go ballistic or get their feelings hurt. Realistically, I know Bruce would be the explosive one, and I’m the one with the most potential of having my heart stomped on. I don’t want to want Bruce, but the magnetic pull he has on me is strong, which means I have to be even stronger to fight it.
“That’s what you’re going with?” I banter back. “The old ‘I slipped’ excuse? You said it yourself. I took the infamous Brutal Tannen down fair and square.”
“You’re something else, Allyson Meyers.” It sounds like high praise, maybe even an admission he didn’t intend to make, as he shakes his head and eyes me thoughtfully. I can feel his eyes sweeping along my skin like a palpable touch. “You okay from the tackle? Sorry I didn’t even ask. I was a little caught up.”
I nod slowly, my lip disappearing behind my teeth in an attempt to keep words back. I’m not even sure what I want to say, what I want to ask, but I know it’s not about the tackle. No, it’s all there, fighting to get free from the deep, dark hole I’ve shoved those thoughts into. And letting those birds fly sounds like a dangerous idea.