Warning Track (Callahan Family #1) - Carrie Aarons Page 0,30
and it’s a good thing I’m sitting down. The spark that runs between us, a line of energy connecting us across the restaurant, is charged and electric. My mouth goes dry, there is wetness in my panties, and suddenly I feel way drunker than I should for only having had two drinks.
It takes me a minute to blink and turn back around, ripping my eyes away from him. “That? It’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” Whitney singsongs.
The rest of my night is dampened by the cloud of envy Hayes has draped over him. That look between us? It has to mean nothing.
Absolutely nothing but trouble can come of anything more than just a look shared with him.
14
Colleen
“Hey, don’t you dare!”
I swat Walker’s hand away, knowing he’s about to dive straight for my sweet potato fries.
“Oh, come on, just a few.” He gives me the puppy dog eyes that he’s been using as a tactic since he was seven.
Shaking my head, I pop one in ketchup and put it in my mouth. “I don’t know why you don’t just get your own order. You know how sacred fries are to me.”
“Fries don’t taste as good when they come from your own plate. Same as salads you make in your kitchen, or ice cream scooped by your own hand. It’s always better when someone else makes it, or if you’re taking it off someone’s plate. Everyone knows that.”
I tilt my head to the side, considering this. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. I tried to make pizza at home the other night, it was so mediocre that I didn’t even finish it. Imagine that, not finishing pizza? It’s just not as good as having it delivered.”
“See? So you have to give me some fries. It’s the rule,” my cousin points out.
My eyes roll as I pluck three off my plate and put them on his tray. As if he needs more food on there. We’re sitting in the player’s only dining room, having lunch together in the middle of my workday and his practices, and Walker has basically taken every single item off the buffet that was prepared today. I only eat in here when I’m with him, most days I pick at a salad or sandwich while elbow-deep in emails or contracts. But he convinced me to come down here, if for nothing more than to watch him stuff his face with every available cuisine they stock at this stadium.
“How was practice?” I ask.
“We don’t talk shop, remember? That’s also a rule.” Walker levels me with a stare that says I should know better.
He’s right, we have set that boundary before. Not just because he’s a player and I’m the general manager now, since he wants to keep what happens within the team confidential from me. I respect that space and trust he gives to his teammates. But we’ve decided not to discuss our jobs because then it would be all we talked about.
Since we both technically work for the family business, it’s easy to get swept up in it. But Walker and I have been tight since we were babies, and we’re an outlet for each other. He’s my best friend, the brother I never had. When we were in elementary school, Walker was the one who would punch bullies for me, and I’d let him cheat off my spelling homework. Later on in life, Walker was the one I’d cry to when my mom walked out on us right before my freshman year of high school. I was the one who drove him to and from physical therapy appointments when he fractured his wrist our senior year. We’d decided to attend the same university, and he was one of the only reasons I ever left my dorm room.
I don’t have many people I am truly close to, even though I have a huge extended family. But I have Walker.
“Hey, have you seen Hannah Giraldi lately?” he asks, his eyes becoming hooded with concern.
My heart thumps with panic. “Actually, yes. Why do you ask?”
Walker looks around, almost as if to make sure no one is within earshot. “I witnessed something the other night. I can’t be sure but … no, I’m sure. I’m pretty certain I walked up on her and Shane having a knockdown, drag out fight in the parking lot. And I’m pretty sure he shoved her into the side of their car.”
Bile rises in my throat, and that gut instinct you know to rely on as a