some much-needed air.
I almost miss the sound of footsteps approaching with the buzzing in my ears. The door swings open, and Coach appears on the other side.
“Yasmin?” He looks at me and then over my shoulder before returning his gaze to me. “What are you doing here?”
“I came for dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“You said you’d be here. Same place, same time.”
Did he change his mind? Díos, this is so mortifying.
“I did.” He nods, but doesn’t attempt to move.
“Well, I’m here.”
Hello, Captain Obvious.
“For dinner?”
“Dinner,” I nod, then quickly add, “Not talking.”
Dinner I can do, but I can’t deal with another one of our forced conversations.
“Okay, we can have dinner then.” He takes a step back, letting me inside. “Come on in.”
Slowly, I enter the house. It’s not the first time I’ve been at his house, but with how wary I am, you’d think it is. I’m not sure what I expect to find—or not find—but everything looks normal. Like it usually does.
In silence, we walk to the kitchen. I can feel his presence behind me, looming over me.
When I come to the kitchen doorway, I stop in my tracks.
The table is set for two, as usual. Only one plate is filled with food.
“I’d have waited if I knew you were coming,” he says from right behind me, sounding almost apologetic.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I croak out, “I-it’s fine.”
And this time I really mean it.
Looking over my shoulder, I face him. “It’s fine.”
Coach smiles. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile before. It makes him look… softer, I guess. He nods his head toward the table. “Dinner, no talk,” he promises.
Maybe, just maybe, there is still hope for us.
“How did it go?” Nixon asks as soon as I open the door and slide inside the car.
“It was…” I stop, leaning my head against the headrest to gather my thoughts. “Okay. Quiet, but okay.”
“That’s good, right?”
Nixon smiles, a dimple popping in his cheek. He’s been doing that a little more lately. And every time I see it, I give myself a second to cherish the moment.
“He was there, waiting,” I say, still dumbfounded.
I was preparing myself for disappointment that never came, and now I don’t know what to do with myself.
Nixon cups my face, his thumb sliding over my cheek. “That’s because you, Yasmin Hernandez, are worth waiting for, worth staying for.”
I lean forward, pressing my lips against his. “I love you, Nixon.”
A smile flashes across his face, as it always does when I say those four words. “I love you too.”
Not ready to say goodbye to Nixon and Yasmin?
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Turn the page and take a peek into Lines, my YA sports romance!
Chapter 1
AMELIA
“Stone Cold” is playing on the radio as I drive my Volkswagen Golf to the school. The car may be old, but it’s reliable. Kind of. Maybe I heard some strange noises coming out of it a time or two. But it’s something normal, right? Strange noises coming out of old things give them charm, give them character. People say it all the time.
Anyway, the car is mine, and that’s all that matters to me. The last three summers I was working my butt off helping my aunt in her hair salon and saving money so I could buy myself a car.
It’s the first day of school and the first day of my senior year. The beginning of the end. I’m one step closer to freedom, one step closer to getting out of hell and starting a new life—life away from this city and its people.
The phone on the console in front of me starts ringing. Lowering the music, I give a quick look at the screen before connecting the call and putting it on speaker.
“Where are you, Lia?” My best friend’s voice comes from the speaker.
“On my way to school, Brooks. Where would I be?”
“You’re late.” I can hear the noises around her, meaning she’s already there. I roll my