Cocky Notes - Leesa Bow Page 0,17
The longer you draw it out, the harder they play. It goes hand in hand with sports players. They’re competitive… yada, yada… you know what I’m saying. You want him. He wants you. Get it over with so you can move on.”
It’s the reason Georgia and I get on so well. We’re two of a kind.
“Wait. Unless you don’t want to—”
“I do,” I say, and inhale dramatically. “I mean… I need your help. I’m feeling weird, and I’m not sure what’s going on in my head.”
“Shit, girl. You took the bait. He’s reeling you in.” She takes a sip of wine while assessing me over the rim of the glass.
“I’m not hooked easily. It’s why I need your help to get the upper hand.” I gulp a few mouthfuls of wine hoping for clarity.
“Help you how?”
I point a finger at her. “Exactly. I have no clue, babe.”
“I’ve seen a movie where this happens,” she says with wine-influenced honesty. “You can’t sleep with him if you want to keep him around.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not the movies.” I sigh.
She lifts the wine to her lips. Her expression changes. “What are you afraid of?”
“What do you mean?”
She pulls her legs up and rests her chin on her knees. “Something has spooked you. It’s why you’re here. You don’t need my help. It’s something else.”
“No, no.” I take another mouthful of wine and stand before I have finished the glass. “I really have to go and check on Dad. Let’s make plans to go out in another week or so.”
I leave before Georgia probes further. I couldn’t admit to falling for him even without having sex. Something is stopping me from sleeping with him because I know once will not be enough. I’ll want more, and neither of us can give more.
Georgia understands my hang-ups about my mother and knows how much I don’t want to follow in her footsteps, but here I am not allowing anyone in while keeping a heart of cold glass. No emotion to give it life, and the lack of motherly nurture left my heart fragile and ready to shatter, especially at the thought of losing my father. Because he’s the only person my heart loves purely.
The entire drive home in the car, I reiterate the importance of keeping my distance for now. I’m sure Reef will find someone else quickly because I don’t mean anything to him. I repeat the last line like a mantra, rebuilding the walls around my heart.
Some of the Blackbird footballers stroll into Lombardi’s, and there is no sign of Reef. Is he mad at me? Or is he keeping his distance because it’s what he thinks I want?
“Did you hear about Nemo?” the dark-haired guy with a man bun says as though he’s telling a joke.
“What did he do now?”
“Went surfing this morning and the fin of the surfboard sliced his groin. He’s out of action for a couple of weeks until it heals.”
Nemo?
“Coach was shitty as fuck. Asked why he was surfing before training.”
They all chuckle.
“He’s been doing it for years, man. How has coach not known?”
I glance up and look around the table to see who is saying what. “And coffees?” I ask. “Do you want cake, breakfast?” Turns out Nemo is more important than breakfast.
“Just the regular, sweetheart,” a blond guy says without a glance my way.
Shit, I am invisible. Evidently, they don’t know anything about me. About Reef and me.
“Do you want me to bring out the chef recommendations?”
“Yeah. Perfect. Thanks.”
I turn away, tapping on my iPad, pretending to be busy while the guys discuss Nemo.
It clicks.
Reef. Nemo. Nicknames are part of the football world.
“How long is he out of action?”
“A couple of weeks.”
“That’s if he doesn’t get suspended for ignoring coach’s rule.”
Eyes down, I have no idea who is saying what. But I can’t move. I need to know what’s happened to Nemo.
“Twelve stitches. Missed his sack.”
They all break out in stomach-wobbling laughter. Only these guys have a fat indicator of probably two percent. Nothing wobbles. All firm muscle and definition.
“Fuck, imagine having your ball sack ripped open from a fin of a surfboard. A shark bite would do less.”
“Bullshit, dickhead.”
“Anyway, who’s taking his spot on the wing?”
“Roughy.”
“Nemo’s going to be pissed if he doesn’t get his spot back before the season.”
I glance up to the guy who spoke last. It resonates. Everything Reef has worked for is on the brink—one stupid decision for enjoyment.
The big guy is eyeing me. I’ve overstayed my welcome.
“Okay. Got it.