Page 72 of Love on the Waiver Wire

So she’s been watching.

I feel a smile creep onto my lips as I look at the clock. It’s almost eight. The game is almost starting.

I wait until 8:01 to text her back.

What? Dammit I could have sworn I saw he was okay. Thank you for telling me, nothing I can do now

I add a shrug emoji to the end for full effect.

She doesn’t answer me, which is slightly concerning.

The kicker misses his first two kicks. Of course he does. Isla is only a couple points below me, but kickers don’t tend to score that many fantasy points.

It’s not until the third quarter that we get lucky.

When the game ends, she has exactly one point over my score.

Congrats on your win

I sit back in my chair, watching the post-game reporting.

That was hardly fair.

I think it’s fair enough

Okay.

The okay with the period again. I swear it’ll be the death of me.

But I’m not sure what to say. I don’t want to say anything over text, and I also don’t want to go over there right now before I have the chance to really knock her socks off.

I knew that I was going to lose to her this week no matter what. Isla isn’t stupid, she knows what I did. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have done it.

I’ll be at your place to pick you up at 8 P.M. sharp tomorrow. Look cute.

Okay.

* * *

My Tuesday started with a workout, followed by driving over to the aquarium to pick up the NDAs my agent and I had all of the nighttime employee’s sign.

I want to give Isla a night to remember without the fear of photos or news getting out. After all, it’s a big deal to rent out the entire National Aquarium.

True to my word, I’m at her place at eight, dressed in my best jeans and a comfortable button-up shirt, I take two steps at a time up to her apartment.

I don’t need to knock or send her a text, either. The second I’m at the door, she opens it, her eyes immediately dialing into the bouquet of yellow and white flowers in my hand.

Without a word, she steps aside, letting me in.

Isla looks the beautiful as ever in a her low-cut black long-sleeve and green skirt. Her chocolate hair falls in waves down her back, her red highlights catching the light as she moves around. She grabs her boots from her shoe rack, pulling them on. They make her about two-inches taller, the top of the boot ending around her knee.

“You look stunning,” is all I can say. She looks up, her lips pursed.

“Thank you,” she says finally, taking the flowers from me.

“It’s awful late to be going to the aquarium, isn’t it?”

I shake my head. “Nope. They were more than accommodating.”

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