Page 106 of False Start

“She has awful taste.” Trent reached for the last egg roll. “She grew up telling people she was an ‘old soul.’”

“A millennial? Your sister thought she was a millennial. That’s an ‘old soul’ to her?”

“Apparently her soul isn’t that old.” Trent stuffed half the egg roll in his mouth. “She got ahold of my parent’s old video recorder and would direct remakes of all her favorite movies.”

“Would you do it?”

“For my baby sister?” His face melted into a smile. “Every time. If I didn’t, she’d go crying to Mom and Dad, saying I was being mean.”

“And you weren’t a mean older brother?”

“Sometimes. But I make a kick ass Grave-Robber.”

“I need to see these videos.” I smiled, surprised at how normal the evening felt after the day I’d had.

“Not a chance.” He bounced his shoulder against mine before wrapping his arm around me. “But, speaking of meeting new people, what are you doing Saturday?”

“Not working? Kickball?”

“We have a bye week.”

I smiled. “A bye week? That sounds so official.”

“What do you call it?”

I shrugged. “A weekend off?”

“Well, since you have the weekend off, how about coming with me to a barbecue?”

“A barbecue?” My eyebrow lifted at the offer. “Where?”

“My head coach’s house.” He kneaded a knot in my shoulder, fingertips slipping under the edge of my t-shirt, making me melt just a little. “It’s an off-season mini-camp get-together thing. He does it every year.”

“So, a football thing?”

Trent shrugged. “Sort of. It’s a chance for the new players to meet the vets and the vets to catch up. The food is good, and there’s a pool and free booze.”

“Free booze?”

A faint tinge of pink broke out over his cheeks. “Not for me, obviously.”

“You’re inviting me to a football thing?”

“Right.”

“And you don’t want to invite Derek?”

“He’s not exactly around much anymore, is he?” Trent shook his head. “And no. I don’t want to invite Derek. I want to invite you.”

I weighed the offer. Kickball was drawing to a close. Football would clearly start soon, and where did that leave Trent and me? We weren’t dating. We weren’t friends. Not really, anyway. And come football season, I doubted he’d need some townie hook up to hang out with anymore.

When we got home from the rally, I thought we’d slowly ease away from each other. Games and practices, and then he’d be gone. But instead, he’d nearly moved in. Now, he was inviting me to his work barbecue.

“Wouldn’t you rather just hang out with your teammates?”

“It’s not just my teammates,” he insisted. “Spouses, girlfriends, kids. It’s really a big family get-together. Besides, my teammates would love to meet you.”

He dropped that fact easily. Like I should have known he talked about me. “Wait, what? They know about me?”

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