Page 23 of Spring Tide

“Practice ran a little late,” I tell him, scrubbing a towel over my damp hair. “I only have a few extra minutes tonight.”

“No worries. I’m going out to dinner with ...” He clears his throat, an awkward lilt invading his tone. “I mean, I’m about to go out for dinner anyway, so it’s no big deal.”

I scrub an irritated hand across my forehead. “Alright then. How’s uh, how’s your team doing this season?”

“You little fucker.” The playful timbre of his voice returns. “You know we got our asses handed to us last weekend.”

My eyes roll back. “Yeah, you and your guys couldn’t block Miami’s offense for shit.”

“And you still think you’re hot shit because the Ospreys beat them last season. News flash, their best player was just medically disqualified.”

“Yeah, and what’s your team’s excuse this year?”

“You’re still such an ass, Reynolds.” His warm chuckle reverberates through the phone. “Glad to see Coastal hasn’t changed you too much.”

“I’m a few miles from home, D. What is there to change?”

And that’s the damn truth. While I’ve been stuck in this town for the past four years, Danny’s been the one changing over at DU. In fact, he spent this past summer galivanting around Europe with his girlfriend. I doubt he’s even been home once since last Christmas. At least, that’s the last visit I’m aware of, anyway.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says earnestly. “How is everybody over there, anyway? Little Giorgie?”

“Giorgie and the twins are good.” I can’t fight the grin that lights up my face. “Taylor’s working her ass off, and Elio is himself, as per usual.”

“I need to get back there soon for a visit. I think Sof ... I mean, I think I’m gonna head back for fall break here in a few weeks or so.”

“You know you can say her name, right?” I ask the question through gritted teeth. “I’m not gonna spontaneously combust if I hear it.”

“Yeah, man, I know,” he says somberly. “I just ... it still feels a little weird.”

“It’s been two years.”

“I know.”

“Look, I need to go anyway.” I straighten my shoulders, the next words unintentionally slipping from my mouth. “I’m, uh—I’ve actually started seeing someone.”

“Oh?” His tone is pleasantly shocked. “That’s fucking great, dude. What’s her name?”

“Harper,” I blurt out. “Yeah, she’s ... great. A sweet girl. I’m heading to her house now, actually.”

“I guess I’ll talk to you next week, then. I’m really happy for you, Luc.”

“Sure,” I grumble. “Have a good night with Sofia.”

There’s an awkwardly long pause, and then, “... yeah, thanks. Night, then.”

When I finally hang up, my mind is reeling. Now, I’ve got a headache to go along with my body aches, and I’m jonesing even harder for that coveted massage. For Harper’s magical healing hands.

I drive at least seven miles over the speed limit the entire route to her apartment. My knee is shaking as I take the stairs two at a time. With one solid knock, I plant myself directly in front of the sparkly, pink entrance.

The front door swings open in the same fashion as the other night. I narrowly avoid another smack to the face as Harper exclaims, “You’re here!”

“I am.”

“That’s great.” She smiles wide, soft cheeks stretched across her lightly freckled face. “And look, I didn’t even hit you this time.”

I give her a pursed-lipped nod. “Right.”

“Okay, well, come on in and make yourself at home.” She holds out one arm, gesturing wide to the entrance of her living room. “Stella’s out tonight, just so you know. She wanted to give us a little bit of privacy.”

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