Page 73 of A Whole New Play

“It’s not.” His grin grows. “Come on.” He takes my hand again and we follow the dark-haired host to the patio. As long as Carter smiles at me like that, I think I might follow him anywhere.

Ceiling fans spin fast overhead, creating a strong breeze that counteracts the warm humidity that will only get worse as the day progresses. It won’t be long before it’ll be too uncomfortable to enjoy being outside, but right now, it’s perfect.

We sit at a tall table at the patio's edge, sheltered by a wooden pergola overhead. The host hands us brunch menus and tells us our server will be with us shortly before heading back inside. He’s perfectly polite, but I don’t miss the curious glance he gives Carter as he walks away. I’m pretty sure he recognizes the star linebacker.

Before we can speak, our server comes by and introduces herself, pours us water, and then leaves to give us time to look over our menu.

“Let me make one thing clear,” I say once we’re alone, “I’m not dressed to play volleyball.” I extend my sandaled foot and gesture to my pretty sundress.

He chuckles. “Neither am I.” He wears his dress shirt from last night, albeit with the buttons undone at the top and the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. His slacks were miraculously unwrinkled when he picked them up off the hotel room this morning. But even if they were wrinkled, I bet he’d still look put together.

“But I couldn’t resist an opportunity to remind you of the first time we met,” he finishes with a soft expression that makes my stomach flip.

“Like I could forget.”

“I’m pretty memorable, huh?” He winks.

“Please.” I roll my eyes and pick up the single-paged paper menu. “You know you are.”

His lips part in another smile. “Well, if we’re confessing things, I think you should know that I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

I laugh to try and hide how his words make my heart race. “Yeah, right.”

“I mean it,” he says, trapping me in the clutches of his sincere expression. “I clocked you on the beach all the way from the pool. You’re the only reason I agreed when Dane suggested we go over and ask to join y’all’s game.”

I slowly lower the menu and raise a questioning brow. “Really?”

“Really. I don’t know if you know this Valerie Palmer, but you’re gorgeous.”

I wave away the compliment.

“I mean it. I couldn’t take my eyes off you then. And it’s no better now.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand.

The affectionate words coupled with his warm touch make my heart feel like it’s going to bust out of my chest. I need to temper these emotions. I can’t afford to do something as foolish as fall for Carter Jones.

I don’t say a word, but Carter must read my thoughts on my face.

“My bad.” He drops my hand and sits back, wearing a cheeky grin. “Forget I said anything. We’re supposed to be casual.” His eyes shine with amusement.

I release a pent-up breath.

I’m thankful Carter is choosing to find humor in this situation, but I’m more confused than ever.

It’s been less than two hours since I proposed we keep our budding relationship casual. Am I about to throw that idea away, just like every other agreement we’ve made to each other since we met?

Why, yes… yes, I am.

The server returns right before I’m about to say screw it and tell Carter I want us to be more than casual—that I was ridiculous for thinking that plan would ever work.

I order a Michelada and migas breakfast plate. Carter orders six breakfast tacos stuffed with potatoes, chorizo, and cheese. It’s on the tip of my tongue to question if he honestly plans to eat that many tacos, but I refrain. Not only do I remind myself he’s a professional athlete, but I also remind myself it’s not cool to comment on what another person eats. I was once a teenage girl. I know how bad that can make someone feel. Especially since my mom still likes to criticize my food choices, along with practically everything else in my life.

I wait until the server walks away and we’re alone again before I take a steadying breath, preparing to take a less impulsive approach to communicating my change of heart. Quietly, I ask, “What if I changed my mind?”

Carter lowers his glass of water, looking confused. “Changed your mind? About what?”

I press my lips together then swallow down the insecurity trying to crawl up my throat. “What if I changed my mind about us… being casual?”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

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