up my napkin and place it on my lap, then cut up the chicken Marla made. She’s a great cook. Either that or my taste buds are having a party over the first home-cooked meal I haven’t made for myself in forever. Her salad dressing is awesome, and when I remark about it, Reese helpfully informs me that Marla bottles it and sells it nearby.
Marla looks annoyed that Reese is the one to speak up about her business, so I direct my next question directly to Marla. “How come you never made this bigger?”
“Once Rylan was born, I just didn’t have the energy. I’m happy with what I sell locally.”
“It’s really good.”
“Remember that time I was here, and you had all the kids try out your new flavors?” Reese adds.
“Yes,” Marla says. “If I recall, you weren’t fond of any of them.”
“I was picky when I was a teenager. Oh my God, Cade, remember how we went to homecoming senior year and you took me to that nice restaurant and I only had a salad?”
“And I had to pay for an entire meal you didn’t eat. Yeah.” I can’t tell from Cade’s voice whether he’s annoyed by the memory or not.
She looks at me. “It was supposed to be some sort of chicken, but it looked raw and had this gross sauce.”
I nod and chew my salad. “How’s the leg, Rylan?” I ask to stop Reese from traveling any farther down memory lane.
“It’s good.”
“I saw you had some signatures on it. Can I sign when we’re done eating?”
He nods, eating his chicken. “Yeah. I went to watch one of my team’s games and a bunch of people signed my cast.”
“Calista Bailey was one of them.” Mr. Greene’s gaze works its way from Marla to Cade in a suggestive way.
“Stop it, Dad. We only train together,” Rylan says, but his cheeks fill with a nice shade of pink.
“Oh, Rylan, maybe you and Calista will end up being like Cade and I were. You never know. We started off as friends in elementary school, too.” Reese’s soft eyes land on Cade’s.
I don’t have the energy to look at Cade, so I sip my wine like Marla and concentrate on Rylan. “What’s Calista like? As a teammate, I mean?”
He shrugs. “She’s good. It’s her uncle who’s training us.”
“He was a well-known soccer player. Played in the MLS,” Mr. Greene adds.
“Oh, that’s awesome. I bet he knows his stuff then?” I look to Rylan for confirmation.
“Yeah, and he pits us against one another. She’s good. Like real good.”
“So are you,” Cade says. “When you control your temper.”
Rylan nods as though he knows this lecture by heart.
“Don’t let him fool you. Your brother had a temper when it came to football,” Reese says.
“Christ,” I say and everyone at the table freezes. One quick glimpse at Marla and her wide smile confirms I did just say that out loud. Shit. “Sorry, I just remembered something. I need to call my mom.” I stand from the table and place my napkin on the chair. “I’ll be right back.”
I hide in the bathroom, trying to compose myself. A soft knock lands on the door and I’m expecting it to be Cade, asking me what the problem is. But Marla’s head peeks in after I say to come in.
She shuts the door behind her, squatting down along the wall next to me, and places her hand on my knee. “She’s not a threat, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“What? Oh no, I just hung up with my mom. It’s her birthday. I forgot.”
But her eyes scour my lap and the area around me, not seeing a phone anywhere. She’s got me.
“Well, if you were worried for some reason, don’t be. She’s not the threat.”
I clue into her words. “But you’re suggesting there is one.”
She inhales deeply and looks toward the door then back at me. “Yes. I can see he likes you, but there’s a giant wall you’ll have to break down in order to get him.”
“I don’t understand. There isn’t another girl?”
She smiles and shrugs. “Kind of, but not who you think. I have a great feeling about you two and I think you’re the girl who’s finally going to get to him, but only time will tell. I just don’t want you to be jealous of Reese. She might want him, but Cade doesn’t want her.”
She leaves the bathroom before I can ask for more clarification. Thanks for dinner and the cryptic message, Marla.
I walk out of the