Page 95 of The Surprise Play
I have never met a jock like Wily Wilson before.
And it’s taking maximum effort to convince myself that this isn’t just a dream.
CHAPTER 29
WILY
Satch is hilariously stoked and excited at being able to catch a ball less than half the time I threw it at her.
It was pretty funny watching the sweet concentration on her face.
She obviously likes to get things right.
Man, her apologetic wincing every time she dropped the ball made me wonder who taught her how to catch in the first place.
As I gather the ball to my chest, I walk forward and have to ask, “You play catch with your dad much?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “No. He was always too busy working in the diner. When we did have time off, we’d be doing other stuff, like watching movies or playing board games. Things like that. We’re more of an indoorsy bunch.” She looks me up and down. “Unlike you, I’m guessing.”
“Yeah.” I take her hand, leading her over to the picnic blanket.
The air is cold tonight, and the tip of her nose is goingred. I can feel the chill of her fingers through her gloves and figure it’s hot chocolate time.
“My dad had me in the backyard throwing a ball before I could walk.” I unscrew the cap of the thermos while she takes a seat on the pillow opposite mine.
“Really? That seems young.”
I shrug. “The guy has always been passionate about football.”
“Did he play in college?”
“He tried.” I wince. “Think it always bugged him that he didn’t make the cut. He’s a decent athlete, but he’s not fast enough to keep up, and he’s not big enough to block well.”
“Thanks.” She takes the mug of hot cocoa and curls her gloved hands around it. “Smells good.”
I smile, not wanting to admit that Sienna was the one who made it for me.
Satch blows on the steaming liquid before taking a tentative sip. “Your dad must have been stoked when you came along. Were you big as a kid too?”
“Yeah, I’ve always been big for my age.” I swallow down the hot brew and end up burning my tongue. Gritting my teeth, I hide my discomfort and set my drink aside, pulling out the PB&J sandwiches I did actually make myself. I’m just about to open the container when a sudden thought hits me, and I groan. “Shit, you’re not allergic to peanuts, are you?”
“Nope. I’m not allergic to anything.” She grins as I take the lid off and hold one out for her. “Oooo. Nice. Did you make these?”
“Yes, ma’am. These are a Wily special.”
“Impressive,” she murmurs, wiggling her eyebrows and taking a bite.
“Not the classy dinner you might have been expecting, but I?—”
“I love this,” she interrupts me. “This is better than a restaurant or diner or anywhere else you could take me.” Her eyes start to glow in the lantern light. “You’re showing me a piece of your soul… and it’s beautiful.”
Shit, I think I’m blushing. “I wasn’t sure you’d be into empty plastic chairs and a field of grass. But I just wanted to show you my reason.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.” She looks around us, then up at the night sky. “Do you think it’s going to snow tonight?”
“I’m not sure.” I hold my palm up, ready to catch flakes, but nothing’s falling. “We can leave if you?—”
“No, I want to stay.” She smiles. “Of course I want to stay. I feel like we’re the only two people on Earth right now, and I love that.”
