Matchmaker (Empire High #4) - Ivy Smoak Page 0,108

cold, unused bath water.”

“I’m sorry about the last two nights. But I don’t need you to draw me a bath, Nigel. We’ve been over this.”

“It’s no problem. I like preparing it for you. Have a good day at work, Mr. Caldwell.” He turned on his heel and walked away too.

Tanner was really generous for letting me stay with him. But tonight I would fill him in on the deal I’d made with Poppy. As long as I kept pretending to be Poppy’s boyfriend, I could be safe back at my place. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take of Nigel. I picked up one of their discarded papers and flipped through it.

There was a picture of Poppy holding my hand on top of the table. It looked intimate and quite real. I cringed and threw out both papers. I needed to explain this to Kennedy. And to my friends before they all jumped to a wild conclusion. Well, not that wild, considering the picture. I shot off a text to James asking him to meet up, already knowing what his reaction would be. He’d tell me not to get mixed up with someone from Mr. Pruitt’s family. Because there was no way out.

Chapter 33

Thursday

I kept looking over my shoulder. But it wasn’t because I was scared someone was out there watching me. I was just excited for Kennedy to arrive. Inviting her here may not have been my best idea. But I thought if she could stand on this field and feel okay with it…then we could figure everything else out.

Mrs. Alcaraz had implied that Kennedy was a flight risk. I’d never seen her that way, though. She was loyal. Moving out of the city hadn’t made her forget about Brooklyn. It had just given her the space she needed to live. I hadn’t allowed myself that space. But maybe I was ready. Honestly, if I wasn’t coaching this team, I’d probably convince Kennedy to jump on a flight with me today. I’d go anywhere as long as it was far away from here. I think I needed some distance. I think I was allowed that.

I exhaled slowly. Brooklyn would have wanted me to be happy. Just like she would have wanted me to make sure things were right with James. I was going to stop by his place after dinner with Tanner. I’d fix it. I’d fix everything I’d made a mess of.

I watched Jefferson’s extra point attempt. This time the ball didn’t even leave the ground. It just rolled along the grass, looking as sad and defeated as Jefferson.

I blew my whistle to call him over.

“You’re hitting your laces again.”

“Am I?” He looked like he had no idea he’d made any kind of mistake.

How many times had we talked about this? This kid was going to be the death of me. “Take a deep breath for me.” I’d read that meditation could really help with focus.

Jefferson breathed in for a second and then sneezed. “Sorry, Coach Caldwell. I have really bad fall allergies.”

Of course you do. “That’s okay. Don’t worry about breathing deeply. What I want you to do is go out there. And instead of focusing on kicking the ball, focus on the sound of your breath. In and out.”

“So don’t kick the ball?” he asked.

“No, kick the ball. Just don’t think about it.”

Jefferson shrugged. “It’ll try.” He jogged back out onto the field. He stared at the ball like he was concentrating on it even more than usual.

“Sorry I’m late,” Kennedy said. “My client was being excruciatingly…specific.”

I laughed and pulled her into a hug. My first thought had been to kiss her. But I didn’t want to overwhelm her. Being here was a lot. I knew that. I pulled back, but kept my arm draped over her shoulders. She didn’t move away.

We both watched as Jefferson studied the football like he had never seen one before. Seriously, what was he doing? That was the exact opposite of what I’d asked him to do.

“Breathe, Jefferson!” I shouted, my arm slipping from Kennedy’s shoulders.

He proceeded to sneeze as he kicked the ball. It went way left and into the stands.

At least he had some power behind it that time.

Jefferson ran after the ball to retrieve it.

“Wow, you found someone as bad as Prescott to be your kicker?” Kennedy whispered. “Is it like a nostalgia thing…or…”

I laughed. “No. It’s a popularity thing.” I watched as Jefferson leaned over, out of breath from running up the bleachers.

“Really? He’s

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