Page 95 of Spring Tide

Dad gives him a tight smile. “Ah, I see.”

“Luca’s also the defensive captain for our school’s football team,” I chime in, happy to brag about my guy.

I’m so proud of how hard Luca works in all aspects of his life. If he won’t boast about his accomplishments, then I’m more than willing to take matters into my own hands. Plus, my dad is a big football fan himself. It might give the two of them something to bond over in the future.

Dad visibly perks up, his attention piqued. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.” Luca gives him a polite nod, but his expression remains guarded.

“What position do you play?”

“Middle linebacker,” Luca says. “I’ll be declaring for the draft this year.”

It’s bothering me that I can’t tell what either of them is thinking. There’s still an awkward lilt to the conversation, and I’m not so sure that football helped bridge their connection after all.

“Maybe I’ll have to come check out a home game with my daughter sometime,” Dad offers with a smile, landing a heavy pat on Luca’s shoulder. “We could all grab dinner the night before. My treat, of course.”

“Sounds good, sir.”

“Dad,” I cut in. “We really do have to get going.”

“Sure, sure, honey.” Dad follows us to the front door, waving us both off. “Drive safe, you two.”

Despite my offer from last night, Luca holds his hand out for the keys, approaching the driver’s side of his car. An uncomfortable silence washes over us as we settle into our seats. Sighing, he puts the car in drive and slowly pulls away from the condo.

“I’m sorry about my dad coming back so unexpectedly,” I say into the silent air. “And um, you know, he can be a little out of touch sometimes.”

“Yeah, look ... can I ask you something?” His grip tightens around the steering wheel, shoulders pulling back. “Just a hypothetical?”

“What’s up?”

“Would you be embarrassed of me if I didn’t play football?” His voice is soft, unsteady as he continues. “If I wasn’t hoping to get drafted come April?”

“What?” I fumble with a response. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“I mean, if I was just the Luca that works down at the pier. The guy that has to scrape together two pennies just to pay for his tuition, unsure of his future prospects.”

“I like you for you.” My heart sinks like a stone, carelessly tied up and tossed into the river. “If you changed your mind tomorrow and completely dropped football, it wouldn’t matter to me. I just want you to do whatever it is that makes you the happiest.”

The silent gears tick away inside his mind. Finally, after what feels like a period of a thousand years, he gives me a half-grin and says, “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nods one final time, seemingly reassured by my adamant denial. “I believe you. I just had to ask.”

28

LUCA

This week has been fuckingterrible, mainly because I haven’t been able to spare a moment to see Harper. It’s been tough since we came back from Cape Casserat last weekend. I wanted to, believe me, but our schedules wouldn’t align no matter how hard we tried.

As if that wasn’t shitty enough, I’ve been blessed with bad luck in more ways than one.

“Fletcher, come here,” I call, my voice echoing across the athletic training room.

I hate to break up his flirting session with Eden, but it turns out the two of them are here for an actual reason. I mean, other than to rekindle their disaster of a relationship, that is.

I wait for a beat, rubbing some tension out of my neck as he jogs over to meet me. “Whatcha need, big guy?”

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