Page 44 of One Day

He narrows his eyes for only a second before deciding it’s a losing battle. In no world is he getting this mug of heaven back from me. “Fine.”

“Love you, Evy!” I grin before trekking up the rest of the stairs.

Taking a long sip, I settle in at my desk and reach for my computer mouse, sinking into the brightness of my room. The screen springs to life and opens to my workspace, the basic sitemap for the app displayed in various colors in front of me, but something about it doesn’t fit. For all the features they want, I can’t help but think back to all the issues their athletes are struggling with: missing emails, schedule mishaps, and unorganized meal planning.

Staring at my screen, an app takes form in front of me—one not for the fans but for the athletes and coaching staff to streamline everything. It feels like a missed opportunity just sitting there waiting for someone to grab onto it. With a sigh, I switch over to the second sheet with the breakdown of the profiles I have fleshed out.

My mouse hovers over the empty text box to start working again when my phone vibrates on the nightstand. Sliding out of my chair, I cross the room and smile to myself at the wrinkled sheets. The memory of Walker’s calloused hands on my body permanently pressed to my skin.

DYLAN

Got a bit of time before my game if you wanted to pop by to work on your app.

Back door is open.

ME

Be over in a few.

Setting my phone back down, I step out of my sleep shorts and toss them onto the bed before opening the bottom drawer of my dresser to pull out a pair of leggings. I quickly get ready before grabbing my phone and laptop bag, taking my now empty mug downstairs with me.

Bekah is wrapped back up in her book, this time with headphones on, and Everett seems to have disappeared from the main floor altogether.

Stopping at the fridge, I grab the dry-erase marker off the side of the fridge and make a note on our chore chart to let them know where I am before sliding into the shoes I keep on the rack by the backdoor. The cold air hits my exposed skin when I step onto the deck, and I almost immediately regret not grabbing my jacket.

Instead of turning around to grab it, I head across the frozen yard to the snow-covered deck box. Using it, I climb over the fence to Dylan’s yard, landing safely on the matching box on his side of the fence.

“Hey, Sunny,” Campbell greets from the kitchen table where he’s eating when I let myself in through the sliding door and step out of my shoes, tucking them into the corner. “How’s your morning been?”

“She got some morning cardio in from what I heard,” Dylan says with a teasing grin, sliding into the chair at the end of the table next to Campbell. His eyes are full of amusement.

“That so?” The corner of his lips tip up as he meets my eyes.

I shrug my shoulders and pull the chair out across from him, setting my computer bag down. “Walker had a change of heart. No need to make a big deal about it.”

Dylan hums. “How are you feeling about it?”

“Really good.” A part of me was expecting there to be some big shift of energy after, but there wasn’t. We’re still the same Sonya and Walker we’ve always been. Even with the tangled lines, it almost feels like a natural switch for us.

Like maybe we should have been doing this all along.

“Yeah?” He folds his arms over the table as I pull my laptop out to open my notes. “How’s he feeling about it?”

“Good, I think? We didn’t get much of a chance to talk about it this morning. He had to meet up with Flynn for some LSAT thing they’re doing. Things were good, though, and we’re going to talk later.”

“You should invite him to the game,” Campbell suggests, getting up with the now empty plate to bring it to the sink. “Better to get it out of the way, right?”

I nod my head. “I don’t have a ticket for him.”

“Don’t worry about that. Fitz always has spare tickets in case his parents and sister ever decide at the last minute to come down for a game, and they aren’t coming tonight.”

As if on cue, the front door opens, and Fitz walks through the door with a pinched look on his face. Pressing my lips together, my eyes dart over to Dylan, who has the same look on his face.

“Everything okay over there, man?” Dylan calls out to him.

Fitz lifts his head, suddenly aware he’s not alone. “Hey, Sunny.” He lifts his chin in my direction, acknowledging my presence before answering Dylan. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t seem fine,” Campbell says, crossing back to his seat at the kitchen table, this time with a water bottle in hand and a mug that he sets on my side of the table. My lips curl up at the smell of more coffee, reaching for it greedily.

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