Page 214 of There's No Us Without You
“Are you going to invite him to watch the game with us?” Her voice is hopeful, her pitch higher than usual.
Jesus Christ.
I rub a hand over my face, shaking my head.
This woman has me doing things I wouldn’t normally do, although I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to.
“I’ll ask. Don’t get your hopes up.”
Eden squeals, the noise piercing my eardrum. “Okay, well I’ll see you soon.”
The phone goes dead before I can respond, which is lucky for me.
She’ll be punished for that later.
“Everything okay?” Tyler raises an eyebrow.
Nodding, I give him a tight smile. “Listen—” I clear my throat, rubbing my hands over my shorts. “Eden wants to know if you want to come watch Emerson’s semi-final game with us?”
I guess I’d like that too.
“Oh.” He sits up straight and rubs his forehead. “At... your place? With you?”
“And Eden,” I say, shrugging.
He blinks a few times, his eyes glassing over.
Is that a no? I can’t fucking tell.
Although, I don’t want him to say no. It’d be nice to, you know... hang out.
“You don’t have to,” I say at the same time Tyler says, “I’d love to.”
He huffs out a laugh, running his hand through his messy hair and sniffing. “I’d love to,” he says again. “If that’s okay with you?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t.” The words come out a little harsher than I meant them, but it’s true—if I didn’t want him to come over, I wouldn’t have asked him.
Tyler holds his hands up, a slight smirk on his face. “Any chance Eden has more of those brownies?”
“For fuck’s sake,” I say, shaking my head. “Not you too. You’re lucky Emerson is away, or you’d have to fight him for just one of them.”
Tyler slaps my back. “Come on, then. Lead the way, big brother.”
Big brother.
I can’t remember the last time he called me that.
Maybe there’s hope for us after all.
SIXTY
Eden
I gripWill’s hand and bounce in my seat when Emerson and his team take to the field. Watching a game in person is so much more exhilarating than watching one on TV. My stomach is a churning mess of nerves and excitement, something I neverthought possible by watching a soccer game. Yet, here I am, witnessing one of my men own the field like he was born for it.
All I could think about the entire week was this game—Emerson’s team made the grand final after they won their second semi-final last weekend.
I had the whole house decorated when Will and Tyler arrived—blue and white balloons, streamers. Even a cake decorated in blue and white with Emerson’s number on it—nine—smack bang in the centre.
