Page 165 of How to Score Off Field

“I can hear it.”

This time, she laughs. “Yes, I was rollin’ my eyes.”

“Is it a bad thing that I’m a nice guy?” Does she not realize how bad it sucks sometimes being the quiet, kind brother? The one people overlook because he’s not the loud one? The attention whore? The famous one?

His mom’s favorite, but only because he texts her out of guilt the most often?

The brother who catches shit because they consider him a kiss-ass?

The one who lost his virginity last because he was always too scared to make a move and didn’t have any game?

I’m that guy.

And being the nice one has gotten old.

“Of course it’s not a bad thing. Why would you think that?”

For all the reasons I just listed off in my head and didn’t say out loud.

“Why would I think that?” I tuck a hand beneath my chin and consider her question. “Actually, never mind. Let’s get back to the actual subject.”

“Which is?”

“Why it bothered you that I introduced you as a childhood friend.”

“Because...I don’t feel like I’m just your friend.”

“Obviously, we’re not just friends.” Let’s see, how do I put this? “The truth is, the words flew out of my mouth before I could think about ’em. I wasn’t exactly gonna start callin’ you my girlfriend for the first time in front of some stranger, and I didn’t need Mark takin’ our picture and sellin’ it to the tabloids the way Grady did, based on the way I introduced you.”

Fucking Grady Donahue still hasn’t contacted me to apologize, that prick.

Have I mentioned that?

’Cause I’m getting pissed about it.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” she allows.

“We haven’t had a talk about where our heads are at. Don’t people do that? Have a talk?”

“You mean about the status of our relationship? Yeah, I think some people do. Some don’t.” She yawns.

“It was our first date, so I wasn’t gonna…” You know. “I wasn’t gonna make things awkward. That guy was a stranger. He doesn’t need to know our business.”

I’m also pretty confident that unless Mark has been living under a rock, he put two and two together in his brain and realized that maybe Tess was the girl in theSportsCenterstory that had been splashed all over the goddamn internet and social media.

We’re just gonna have to brace ourselves in the event that Mark is a sellout…

“Alright. Pretend we were going to do it all over again, and we’re at dinner and Mark comes up, and you introduce me. What do you say?”

Oh shit, she’s testing me.

“Uh.” I’m an idiot and have to stop and think. “I would be like, ‘This is my date, Tess.’”

“Really?”

“Yeah, ’cause you’re my date, and your name is Tess.”

That makes her laugh—thank god—and suddenly, the tension is gone, and she’s caressing the top of my hand with the tips of her fingers.

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