Page 120 of Out of Bounds

"Sorry, the gate isn’t working," June’s bouncy voice buzzed through. "I left to get a picture and now I’m locked out."

"How’re they doing?" I pressed.

"They’re fine, Kassie. They’re huddled—"

"Nobody’s hurt?" I blurted out. "Why’s the score so close?"

"KYU is—"

"I shouldbeat the damn watch party." I put my head in my hand.

Of course I was excited to finally meet Henry Miller, and nervous to show him the project I’d been working on to impress the graphic design department, and I was about three seconds away from throwing up on the pavement. Butwhydid that damn quarterback have to make the dinner the same day as game night? I chewed my bottom lip.

"Is Ryan hurt?"

"It’s like playing telephone with you two," June huffed.

I stared off into the dark parking lot. "What is?"

"Kassie, I’ve got you calling every five minutes, and any time a football player gets a hold of me, it’s a message from Ryan, demanding to know how you’re doing. Can’t you two text each other—let’s think about this—afterthe game?"

There wasn’t even the sound of my three-inch heels to save me from the embarrassment. I rubbed the fabric of my dress between my fingers, trying to figure out how to respond.

"What’d you tell him?"

Her sigh echoed in the call.

"June—"

"Are you serious?" June demanded. "Kassie, I’ll tell him a lot more once you, oh—I don’t know—walk in."

Damn.

I nodded, slowly, ruefully, the kind of nod where you thank the stars that the other person on the line can’t see you nod. She had a point, even if I didn’t like it.

"Okay.Fine."

It took a little longer to get enough courage to head back inside and another five to walk down the hall, super slow-motion style.

Ryan was fine. I’d seen him get slammed in the chest by guys during practice. I’d even seen him jump up to remind them to keep in a tighter formation right after. The ball dribbler was fine. This was a run-of-the-mill Saturday for him.

"Ms. Ragar?" A photographer hurried in from the hallway. "Henry Miller’s here."

This wastheopportunity for me. It was the chance I’d been waiting for and what I should’ve been focusing on.

Ryan was a grown-up. An adult.

He can take care of himself.

And I was finally getting to meet one of the people I aspired to be, animator and showrunner of half a dozen successful projects. This was everything I wanted tobecome.

I had to remember my future. Not worry about Ryan’s present.

"He’s walking in, ma’am."

It was the kind of dinner I’d have for the rest of my career. This night was for every cash register I’d ever sworn over, every dish I’d ever scrubbed. It would all be worth it.

The moment Henry Miller walked through the door, I shot out of the chair. Tall with a thick mustache and a gleaming white smile, he took one look at me, and a grin split across his lips.

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