as though they could pop before I even take a seat at the table.
So, Ava didn’t relay our conversation.
Macy’s cheeks glow before she turns away and heads for the kitchen door. I don’t even get to say hello. There isn’t a hint of anger, only surprise. Another positive. Resorting to old ways, I turn the menu and write in large letters.
CAN WE PLEASE TALK?
Then place it under the table 11 stand.
I decide not to order today to give her space. Letting her know I’ll be coming back here for coffee is step one. I walk out and stand by a light post concealing me enough not to be obvious and still see my seat through the window.
A few minutes later, she’s standing there. She glances down at the menu and picks it up. She must be reading it over and over. Even from here, I see her shoulders rise and fall. She glances down, and then I swear she senses me. She writes something and turns with a deadpan expression and holds up the menu with her answer for me to read.
I see it clear enough.
A big fat NO with a zig-zag underline in a similar way to how she emphasised the word LOSERS when I caught her out months ago. I still have the menu and amuse myself by thinking it’s our first love letter.
I give her a nod before walking away with a smile on my face because it was enough time to see the necklace around her neck—the one I gave her for Christmas.
She’s upped the ante on my biggest challenge—to win back her heart.
I may be stubborn, but at times like this, she has no idea of my determination to win. Something I train for every day. Chance gave me some advice, and the rest is on me.
Initially, our notes connected us.
I hope she’s prepared to battle in the love-war of notes.
The following morning, I’m in the locker room after training red-faced and not from my workout. The anger still bubbling inside me. Brody had tackled me too high, and I laid a few punches to his midriff making a point not to mess with me.
“Hey, Nemo, what was that out on the field?” He comes at me.
Before I know it, I have his T-shirt bunched in my fist, and he is shoved up against the wall, my elbow pushing into his chest. My left arm raised, fist clenched.
“Hey, hey, hey…” Hunter is between us pushing me away.
“Stay the fuck away from me… and Macy,” I yell in his face. “Don’t you step foot in that restaurant until you apologise to her.”
“C’mon, Reef, it was a joke,” Davidson adds. “You’ll kiss and make up.”
“Both of you can get fucked,” I bellow. “I’m over your bullshit.”
“Man, we didn’t mean it to go this far,” Brody says, which is far from an apology. “We were both pissed off our faces.”
“When I get to speak to her, only then do you apologise. Until then… Do. Not. Go. Near. Her,” I emphasise each word.
I take another shower.
Hunter remains in the change rooms until they both leave. “Do you want to have coffee alone today?”
I shake my head. “No point. She’s not talking to me.”
“I’ll see you there, then,” he says, now the other guys have left, and he’s no longer required to break up a fight.
I’m one of the last to arrive at Lombardi’s, and when I do, Hunter slides out so I can take my usual seat then slides in next to me. Macy enters the dining room via the kitchen door, does a double-take, and hesitates in her step. Too late to retreat, princess. I’ve learned to read her and know she wants to go out back and ask someone else to cover our table. I hold her gaze and the sass in her rises.
She marches over with the iPad. “Same as usual, gentlemen?” She taps the iPad with more than her usual vigour.
“Yeah, all the usual,” I say, even though I don’t get another glance my way.
“Won’t be long.” Macy saunters away, and I can’t take my eyes off her hips swaying with every step. Is she deliberately teasing me?
A sugar sachet lands on my face.
“Dude, don’t be so obvious,” Marcus says. “You’ll give her the creeps.”
“I was thinking of calling her back and adding to my order,” I lie.
“Sure, you were.”
The guys pick up the conversation from the car ride after training on the latest opposition players to hit the injury list.
“And Dakota, the unlucky bastard,