Page 58 of Accidentally Sliding Into A Second Chance

“I used the last pair yesterday,” he mumbles, and I can imagine him squeezing the back of his neck. My pulse hums, and my smile widens. “When will it stop?”

At the desperation in his voice, I giggle. “Maybe when she’s older?”

“Maybe?” David’s voice takes on a teasing tone, and the butterflies resting in my stomach start to come to life. “Can’t you give me anything more definitive?”

“Sorry,” I respond, my voice clearly saying I’m not sorry, and his laughter runs across the line through me like the hot sun on a warm summer day. “David?” My voice dips as I say his name.

“Everything okay?”

I shake off the heaviness that threatens to swallow me whole at the longing tugging at my heart.

This isn’t the time for this conversation, Cat.I chastise myself.

“Yeah, sorry…just thinking about everything I need to finish before the meet and greet this afternoon.” I attempt to cover and hear him blow out a long breath. Is he waiting for the other shoe to drop, too? “The front office wants to get Emmy featured in more events and pictures.”

“Ahhh…” David snickers. “Thus, the picture of the adorable jersey that she’ll probably redesign enthusiastically.”

My mouth curls up. “People are loving her.” In a more serious tone, I continue. “I think it’s a good compromise to fill yoursocial media with you on the field, at events, and then Emmy. It gives people a look into your life without having to include Scarlett.”

“I agree,” he says, and I can hear him ripping the laces from his shoes. “Do they want more pictures of us? Or is Emmy taking your place?”

Chapter Twenty-Three

David

Mypulseracesasthe word ‘us’ leaves my mouth, and I hope Cat can’t hear the disappointment that’s like a rock sitting in my stomach.

For the last two weeks, Cat and I have been dancing around what happened at Bark In The Park, while the team has been running with the publicity.

The ‘kiss’, that’s burned in the back of my brain, went viral. Since then, spending all this time with her for pictures, and at home, has been a sweet form of torture—in the best possible way.

The photos leave me with no excuse but to give in to my desire to touch and hold her close.

But it’s not enough, I want more.

We need to talk. Really talk. About us. There’s that word again. But every time I go to bring it up, guilt rips through me, and I stop myself.

“We aren’t off the hook. They want us, too.” My hand stops pushing the lace through the eyelet, the sounds of the lockerroom go silent, and I freeze. Did I read the situation wrong? Does she not feel what I feel? No…it’s not possible. “The images of Emmy and us are getting the most views on your page. So for now, you’re stuck with me.”

“What if I like being stuck with you?” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop myself. A locker slams in the background, and one of the guys’ laughs seems abnormally loud. I hold my breath waiting for her response, my heart bouncing off my ribcage. I pull the phone from my ear to see if the call is still connected.

Her silence is deafening.

“Do you?” She asks so softly, I’m wondering if I imagined it.

“I—”

“Cat,” Hope’s voice calls out. “Travis needs to see you.”

“David, I have to go. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Three beeps sound as the call ends, and I stare at the phone before putting it down on the bench beside me.

“Did Emmy strike again?” Hanson chuckles, slapping me on the arm. “She’s lucky she’s so cute.”

“You’re not kidding!” I grumble, pulling the last lace through and dropping the cleat to the floor. I need to remember to pick up some more laces to have in my duffel. If this were any other situation, three times would be the charm. But Emmy doesn’t go by rules or old sayings, so I’m sure there will be a fourth, fifth, and maybe a sixth. “Check this out.”

I grab my phone and pull up Cat’s text, showing him the photo she sent of the jersey the team bought.

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