Page 17 of The Secret Play

There was something else, something unspoken, and it set my heart racing. “That’s kind of you to say.”

“Not kind. Just honest.”

“Whatever you want to call it, thank you.”

“Would you let me take you out sometime?” he said, his tone careful but direct.

The question hung in the air, heavy with possibility. My brain scrambled for a response, caught between surprise and…something else. Excitement? Nerves? “You went from nervous to bold pretty quickly,” I teased, stalling for time to think of an answer.

He chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve spent enough time regretting the things I didn’t do. Not making that mistake again.”

I studied him, my mind spinning. He wasn’t what I had expected—at all. But there was something about him that drew me in, something I couldn’t ignore.

“Yeah,” I said finally, the word slipping out before I could second-guess myself. “I’ll go out with you.”

His smile widened, and for the first time, I saw the tension in his shoulders ease. He simply said, “Good.”

As I packed up my things and headed for the door, I couldn’t help but wonder what I’d just gotten myself into.

Saying yes was the easy part. Now, I had to figure out how to make it work—especially with a four-year-old at home and no babysitter lined up. I made a mental note to text Megan as soon as I left. If anyone could help me juggle this new chapter of my life, it was her.

But as I walked out of Casey McConnell’s office, my heart still racing, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d made the right choice. For once, I wasn’t overthinking things. For once lately, I was doing something for me.

Chapter 7

Casey

Iwas finding it hard to keep in control.

It had been years since I’d been on a real date. Coaching schedules didn’t leave much time for romance, and when I’d been in a relationship, I didn’t have to worry about dates.

As I sat at a table in one of Atlanta’s nicer restaurants, fiddling with the edge of my napkin and waiting for Gemma to arrive, I felt utterly unprepared.

The restaurant was everything I thought a first date required: quiet, classy, and intimate enough to let us actually talk.

I adjusted the cuffs of my shirt, glancing at the door for the hundredth time. My palms were damp, and my heart was doing something that felt suspiciously like a slap shot in my chest. Or a heart attack.

What the hell was wrong with me? I ordered around a team of professional athletes on a daily basis without breaking a sweat, but the thought of spending an evening with Gemma had me tied in knots.

When she finally walked in, I almost forgot how to breathe.

She was wearing a simple black dress that hugged her curves in all the right ways, her red hair cascading over one shoulder like fire against the cool, muted tones of the restaurant.

She looked both elegant and effortlessly herself, and the sight of her sent a wave of heat through me that I hadn’t felt in years.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said as she approached, her voice light and easy. “Winnie insisted on showing me every single drawing she’s ever done before I left.”

“You’re not late,” I said, standing to pull out her chair. “And even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you. Sounds like important business.”

She smiled as she sat, her brown eyes shining. “It really is. Four-year-olds don’t mess around when it comes to their art. Her teddy bear era has ended and we’ve gotten into drawing food for some reason.”

I laughed, settling back into my seat as the waiter appeared to take our drink orders. I opted for a glass of wine, though I was tempted to ask for something stronger to calm my nerves.

Gemma ordered sparkling water, and the way she smiled at the waiter—warm but not flirtatious—made me think she was as naturally kind as her brother always claimed.

“So, do you think she’ll be an artist one day?”

“I try very hard not to project onto her what I want for her that way. My only goal is for my girl to be safe and happy. What she does with that is up to her.”

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