Page 71 of Love on the Waiver Wire

A feeling I can’t quite describe settles in my stomach. A twisting feeling that makes my head spin and my gut drop.

Why is he reaching out now? Why was there silence for days?

Why is he now suddenly wanting to go out in public with me?

I don’t respond for hours as I zone out to my favorite movie, my eyes growing heavy.

It’s not until I’m climbing into bed that I respond.

Okay.

27

OWEN

We won our Sunday night game in Ohio, and the plane home is loud.

Cooper has been dancing around, hyping everyone up, and our coach has been coming around to talk to us about how proud he is of us. We’re on the right path, and if we keep it up, it looks like this could be our year.

Leo and I have spoken on and off in the last week, but I’ve mostly given him space. After our talk a week ago I haven’t wanted to push anything, much less talk to him about the idea of me still perusing Isla.

I can’t not.

I can’t take not talking to her. Not seeing her. Two months, and all I can think about is her when I’m not playing. How to win her back and how to make her happy. How to make her brother happy. How to make him okay with me seeing her.

There’s nothing I want more. I know that.

When I got her simple “okay.” my heart dropped. I’m not sure if it was the period included or if I could just feel it through the phone, but I know she’s upset. I know I messed up. I know I should have reached out to her after my talk with her brother.

But I didn’t.

And I don’t want to do that to her ever again.

* * *

It’s a day after our game, an hour before the Monday night game kicks off, and I’m at home on my couch, my fantasy app pulled up.

I’m winning my actual game this week. By a lot, with only one more person to go.

Isla is close, but she only has her kicker to go. If I were to guess, the guy will get only about four or five points.

My finger hovers over the option, unsure about whether I should do it. Will the guys call me out on it? Probably. But I could say that it was a mercy call, right? That I just didn’t want to run it up on our poor corner, one of the worst teams in the fantasy league.

“Fuck it,” I whisper to myself as I move the guy down to my bench, instead putting their other wide receiver in. The one currently injured and not playing.

The guys will know I already had him in my Injured Reserve spot, so I’m not sure they’ll believe that I just simply didn’t see it. But maybe they will.

They can be dense sometimes.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mutter to myself.

Immediately a text comes in.

Peaches

You have an injured player starting.

Isla.

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