Page 86 of A Whole New Play

“I’ll talk to him later,” I keep my voice low. Abby and Andy are asleep in the backseat, exhausted from a flight filled with games with their family.

We landed in Dallas about an hour and a half ago. The moment I turned on my phone, I was bombarded with messages from Megan, Dad, and, unfortunately, my mom. Knowing she’d have nothing nice to say, I didn’t read her messages.

Megan’s texts were lighthearted as she joked about how the cat was out of the bag and now I could brag about sleeping with the hottest guy we’d ever laid eyes on. I appreciated her attempt to lift my spirits, but the effort was wasted when I finally read my dad’s only message.

We need to talk.

Hope that the story would die down before my parents realized I was the girl in the photo disappears in an instant.

I don’t know why I did it, but I opened social media to see what was going on. That was a mistake.

Notifications filled my inbox. People I haven’t spoken to in years were tagging me in comments on different posts, all of them showing the same photo.

I never imagined I would be identified so quickly. You can’t even see my face in the picture. But it seems that while we were flying at thirty thousand feet, the rest of the world was linking me to the star linebacker.

The most damning evidence?

Someone found a picture from a box suite at the Rough Riders’ stadium.

Corey and Carlee were the focus of the image. The original article that featured the photo was talking about the World Series Champion and speculating about his plans for next season.

I’d seen the picture when it was first published, and I, of course, noticed myself in the background helping the twins with their puzzle. At the time, it wasn’t a big deal. No one knew, or cared, who I was.

I had no idea the image would be used to link me to Carter and give the world the means to identify me.

“Are you sure?” Concern creases Carter’s forehead as his eyes slide over to me. “It might be easier to talk to him sooner rather than later.”

He’s right, but I’m not ready to face the consequences of that impulsive kiss outside the hotel. Not now, anyway.

“I’m sure,” I tell him.

I expect Carter to press the issue, but he just nods and turns his attention back to the road. “Okay.”

I settle back into the chair, staring unseeingly out of the passenger window as my mind spins with different potential outcomes to my predicament.

“Hey,” Carter reaches over the console and takes my hand in his. “It’s going to be okay.”

I peek over my shoulder and confirm the twins are still asleep. I relax and lace our fingers together. “I know.”

Things might be messy for a bit, but it won’t stay that way for long.

Carter’s well-known, but it’s not like he’s a football player who goes out at all hours of the night, partying with celebrities or flashing his personal life for all to see. Take away his unique career, and he’s just like any other dad with a normal life. This news will blow over before I know it. The hardest part will be facing my parents about it.

I debate what I will eventually say to my mom and dad when I inevitably speak with them while Carter drives us back to Rose Hill. I consider the merits of calling Dad tonight or waiting until tomorrow when we pull up to Carter’s house and the decision is made for me.

My stomach drops to the floorboard when I see a familiar white truck parked at the foot of the driveway.

Shit.

“Is that?—”

“Yup,” I choke out. “My dad’s here.”

The panic in the muscular linebacker’s expression would be amusing in any other situation. Dad is good-natured and kind. Then again, he’s also Carter’s coach. He undoubtedly has a different view of the burly defensive coordinator than I do as his daughter.

Carter drives past the truck and backs the SUV into the parking spot in front of the garage door. The moment he shifts it into park, Dad’s truck door opens. He slides out and straightens. His expression is impossible to decipher from this distance.

“You okay?” Carter asks.

---