Page 3 of Scores Of The Heart

Stacey

I’m pregnant

CHAPTER 1

Tyler

A few months ago…

I’ve been watching Cindy Carter for months.

She has no freaking clue. And I’ve no idea what I think I’m doing.

For one, it’s unethical, watching someone from the cafe across the street from the stadium every day. Two, it’s kinda stalkery.

Who am I kidding? If it were anyone else, I’d think it was downright creepy.

But Cindy has had me from hello. She has no clue about that either.

I rarely see her at work, despite being at the stadium most days. But I first noticed her when she joined the Hawks last year, right before Stacey and I got together.

It’s just been more recently that I’ve honed in on how fucking beautiful she is and how I have the full-blown hots for her.

Each day, I get a tall macchiato from Cafe Grande and sit at the window, just to see her swipe her pass at the administration entrance.

I’m always intrigued to see what she’ll be wearing today. Usually it’s the Hawks polo, or the long sleeve version and bomber jacket when the weather is less than idyllic. But it’s the shoes that make me smile. Some days it’s high heels and wrap around the ankle pumps, some days it’s glittery vans or a pair of Nikes.

Every fucking day I anticipate how she’s going to wear her hair, and if she’s done something different with her makeup. I’m surprised at how I notice these things.

Cindy is a slight woman with long legs, dark hair to her waist with a blunt cut fringe, and dark almond-shaped eyes.

Oh, and did I mention she happens to be Coach Carter’s daughter?

That’s an interesting clincher for me to try to get around. Fuck knows if she’ll even be interested in me.

Watching her every day has certainly taken my mind off Stacey and our recent breakup. It’s been a few months, and the guys are starting to notice that there hasn’t been anyone else.

I feel a thump next to me and my heart momentarily lurches.

My head quickly snaps sideways. It’s Jay.

He’s one of my best friends and plays center for the Seattle Hawks.

He’s blonde, blue-eyed, and a hit with the puck bunnies. That’s all he’s ever been interested in.

Jay Jefferson has made more headlines than me recently, but I'm happy for him to take the spotlight.

“What’s up, bro?” He announces his arrival by throwing his Hawks cap on the bench table in front of us and runs his hand through his hair.

“Rough night?” I quirk an eyebrow.

“Some blonde gave me nightmares.” He smirks.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Normally I would encourage him to provide more details about his recent activities, but my mind is elsewhere as I haven't seen her yet. I don’t want to fucking miss her walking in. This is a strategic and desperate operation I have going on here.

Or more like how pathetic I’ve become.

“Spare me the details,” I mutter into my coffee.

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