Page 54 of The Playbook

When she’d approached me in the parking lot, I’d really thought she was going to kick my ass. Then she said I could come, and I thought my heart was going to dance out of my chest. I wasn’t used to feeling this shit at all.

Ryan and I chatted all the way to Lana’s. When we got there, I cut the engine and stared up at the big two-story house.

“Well, here’s to us not fucking anything up.” Ryan unbuckled his seatbelt and blew out a breath.

“Here’s to hoping.” I opened my door and got out, both of us grabbing our bags from the back.

I snagged my sleeping bag too, and we made our way to the front door and knocked.

Lana yanked the door open almost immediately and grinned at us. “Took you long enough!”

“Sorry. I had to grab Ryan,” I said, stepping into her house.

The place was warm and welcoming with beige walls and overstuffed furniture. The small foyer led to an open-floor plan living room and kitchen.

“Hey, Ryan,” Lana greeted him with a grin.

He smiled back.

I followed Lana as she headed to the kitchen. I dropped my sleeping bag by the couch and hauled my bag to the kitchen.

“Hey,” I said to Grace, placing my stuff on the kitchen island.

She gave me a quick smile as I unzipped my bag and pulled out a couple bags of chips I’d stuffed inside. I followed it up with a fifth of vodka, a fifth of some fruity alcohol, and a case of beer. My parents kept a shit ton of alcohol in the house.

“Damn, dude,” Noah appraised with a whistle. “What the hell else you got in there?”

I laughed. “I just wanted to make sure all our bases were covered.”

“Nice.” Noah lifted the vodka and beamed at me.

“Pucker? You girls will like that,” Garrett called out as Lana leaned against the island.

She tore her gaze away from Ryan and smiled.

“I said to bring drinks,” Grace said, looking at my haul.

“I did.”

“I meantsoda,” she said weakly.

“I did that too. It’s in my Jeep. I’ll run out and get it.” I zipped my bag up and took it to the couch.

It still had my overnight stuff in it. I quickly went out to my Jeep and grabbed the case of soda I’d bought. I’d just shut my door when a pizza guy drove up.

“Hey, man,” I greeted him.

“You’re Logan Walker,” he said with wide eyes as he balanced the boxes in his hands.

“Yeah.”

“Damn, bro. Hell of a game tonight. We listened to it on the radio.”

I dug out a few bills from my wallet and handed them over to cover the pizzas. He took them and handed off the boxes.

“Thanks. We’re going to make it to states this year. Championship is looking promising.”

“Shit yeah. That’s awesome. We’re rooting for you. Big things are in your future. Everyone is going to be so jealous when I tell them I got to meet you tonight.”

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