Once Upon A Half-Time: A Sports Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,159

way.

But Rick was right. He deserved to know. The only way I could make anything happen between us, to even have a chance at making something work, was if I revealed the truth.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll talk to him.”

“When?”

I wasn’t working on anyone’s schedule but my own…or the baby’s. That little bugger woke me up every night at three AM to go to the bathroom and had me throw up at noon on the dot.

“I’ll tell him soon,” I said. “But I need you to keep quiet. You’re the only one who knows.”

He sighed, cleaning up and donning his gloves to start my stitches.

“You better name me godfather,” he said.

“You got it.”

I offered my hand and looked away as he got close with the needle. My cell rang the instant he pricked my skin. I glanced at the screen.

“It’s Lindsey,” I said. “If I don’t take this, she’ll freak.”

He shrugged. “Put it on speakerphone. I don’t want you moving. I haven’t done a stitch in years.”

“What?”

“Answer your sister.”

I didn’t get a chance to say hello. Lindsey freaked out, yelling so shrilly the tiny speakers popped.

“Mandy, you are not going to believe this! Great Aunt Mildred died! We’re so totally screwed!”

16

Nate

The emergency wedding meeting began the instant Mandy and Lindsey returned from the hospital at eleven at night.

They hadn’t scrubbed the blood out of the living room carpet yet…or told me why it looked like the set of a slasher movie.

Why the fuck were they at the hospital?

“So, I busted my ass to get over here…” I tried to catch up. “I had to call my bartender on his day off to cover the pub because your great aunt died, and that means the wedding is…?”

“Ruined!” Lindsey curled into a ball on the couch. Bryce cradled her to his chest, and her mom stroked her hand. “It’s all ruined.”

It was the first time Lindsey cried any legitimate tears for her wedding. She wasn’t mourning any mis-printed invitations or off-beat dance moves. This crisis actually seemed to worry her.

And the family.

And Mandy.

Mandy shuffled from the couch and tried to put on a smile. “Tell you what. I’ll go make us some coffee, and we’ll brainstorm. We’ll figure it out.”

Lindsey sobbed into Bryce’s shoulder. Even he looked distressed.

What the hell was going on?

I followed Mandy to the kitchen, but I had forgotten how damn awkward she got around me when her family was close. She bumbled making the coffee and avoided looking directly at me.

God damn it. How many times did I have to fuck this girl before she dropped her guard? I’d do it as often as it took, but I wished she just meet me halfway once and act…

I didn’t even know how I wanted her to act. Calmer? Relaxed? Like she wasn’t so afraid of what she might say or how quickly her legs would spread so near me.

I was used to women presenting themselves to me tits or ass first. Every word out of their mouths was something fake and flirty, and that had been fine for one fun night. Mandy wasn’t like those cheap and easy dates. I knew the real her, the one who came out when we laid in a bed, embraced on the couch, or pleasured each other under the stars.

I liked that girl. What did I have to do to convince her to be that girl with me?

“What happened to your hand?” I asked.

Mandy measured out the coffee grounds. She peeked inside the pot, grimaced, and rushed the entire contraption to the sink for a good rinsing.

“Well…” She dared to look at me. I loved the little peek of those almond eyes. “I tried to help Lindsey with some crafts.”

“And?”

“I lost.”

“Lost what?”

She smirked. “Rick said I was lucky I didn’t lose the use of my thumb.”

“Jesus!”

I reached for her hand to check the bandage.

I didn’t know why I did it.

I had no idea what I expected.

I cradled her hand, savored its warmth, and I didn’t let her pull it from me.

Touching her jolted me more than the god-awful coffee she brewed. Her heat sliced through me just as sharp as whatever she used to take her finger nearly off.

Mandy’s eyes widened, but she pretended her breathing hadn’t shifted when I touched her.

It had.

So had mine.

This intimacy wasn’t something that happened to me. Ever. But I liked it. I liked that she caused it. And I liked that she denied feeling it too, if only because life offered me a new challenge.

It wasn’t enough to