Page 78 of Fumbling for Perfection

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s not working.”

“You said she texted you this week.”

I take out my phone and show him the thread. “Does that sound like she’s dying to get back together with me?”

That boyish grin is back. “Hells, yeah.”

“I don’t get it.”

“That’s because you don’t know our Riley girl as well as I do.”

“Explain.”

“She doesn’t want to be chased, but she doesn’t want to be ignored. She wants to feel cherished, but she doesn’t want to be bought. She wants to love fearlessly, and to be loved the same.”

“Okay. So how do I not ignore her and cherish her without spoiling her?” I ignore the love part, because I’m not sure if we’re there yet.

“Be there for her when she comes around. Let her know you’re still interested.”

“Did you not notice the way she ignored me a few weeks ago when you happened to invite me to the bar where you two were having drinks after work?”

“I happened to notice the constant blush on her cheeks. I also noticed how anytime you weren’t looking at her, she was looking at you.”

“Hm.” I finish my iced tea and stack our dirty plates on the tray at the end of the table.

“Give it time, Walker. She has a lot on her plate right now and refuses any help. Her stubborn pride is one of her greatest assets and her biggest weakness. If you push too hard, she’ll push back just to protect herself.”

With the first preseason game coming up, I don’t have much time to start a new relationship anyway. Definitely not enough time to chase, wine and dine, and get Riley to fall in love with me.

Not that love is off the table, but it’s not something I ever expected to have in my life. Companionship would be nice. With a woman like Riley.

Fuck. Not a womanlikeRiley. I need Riley herself.

“One more thing.” Jackson scoots his chair back. “Riley isn’t going to settle for anyone who doesn’t want the same thing she wants.”

“Which is?”

He stands and tosses his napkin on the tray I’m holding. “A family.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

RILEY

Everything frustrates me these days, and only some of it is preventable frustration. Lately, it’s self-induced frustration. I’m annoying myself with my ambivalence and indecisiveness when it comes to all things Walker.

I still feel like a royal bitch for the way I treated him a few weeks ago, and his short, sharp responses to my texts tell me he’s not over it. The biting tone is out of character for him. It’s what I expect from Kendall. Maybe even Jackson, but he’d be over it in a few hours, or at least calling me out on my behavior.

My empathetic side sees things from Walker’s perspective. He’s never had a sense of belonging. Even now, starting a relationship with his brother, he’s second place to Taylor and even to me. No one has truly been there for him. Ever.

I hit mile three on the elliptical when the news turns over to the sports desk. After three losing seasons, the Revolutions have been the buzz all summer long, thanks to Walker Bankes, one of the NFL’s top running backs.

They show coverage of the first open practice and friends and family day. There’s coverage of most of the team playing pass in the stadium with their kids, their spouses, their loved ones.

Noticeably absent from the coverage is Walker. My heart breaks for him. I doubt he’s ever had family attend his games. Jackson admitted to never attending any, not even when Walker was young.

The sports reporter on the field speaks to the camera. “This weekend’s preseason game will be the first test to see if coach Hayes and his new team have what it takes to have a winning season. Live from Revolution Stadium, I’m Molly Turner.”

I pump my arms and legs faster as an idea forms. I balance myself with one hand on the machine and call Jackson with my free hand.

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