Page 36 of End Game
“Branch and I went to the Water Festival, actually. I ate way too much.”
“She did.” His voice slides into the room from the doorway.
Looking over my shoulder, I see him standing there, leaning against the frame. His eyes are on me, but they’re filled with something I haven’t seen in them before and can’t even begin to figure out.
“You can’t take Layla to a festival and not drop one hundred dollars on food,” Finn laughs. “Let me guess: lemon shake-ups.”
“And elephant ears,” Branch adds. “And candy apples.”
“That explains that,” Poppy says, her eyes twinkling.
“That explains what?” Finn asks.
“Um, the stick on the counter this morning,” she fumbles. “I was like, ‘Damn, that looks like a candy apple stick.’ Guess it was.”
My head goes to my hands as she continues with her makeshift story. She can’t tell him she asked me about the red smears on my sheets earlier. Finn would go crazy.
“I’m going to take my strawberries,” I say, grabbing the bowl as I stand, “and go sit on the porch.”
“We’ll be right out,” Poppy says, turning back to Finn.
I brush past Branch on my way. He slides his hand to the side and lets his fingertips dance along my thigh. It’s such a simple touch that I can’t look at him. I just keep walking.
My skin tickles where he touched me for minutes after. As I get situated on the wicker love seat and think about him in the other room, I smile like a loon. I know it. I can’t help it.
Even on my best days with Callum, it was work—work I thought would pay off in the end. I wrote off the stress between us as spillover from practice or the last game or decided his irritability must be from the things he took to stay fit. With Branch, there’s none of that. It’s soeasy.
Their laughter comes around the corner before I see them and I watch the doorway for Branch. His eyes find mine right away, softness mixed with mischief in those blues.
Everyone grabs a seat like we’ve done this a hundred times. We eat fresh fruit and drink coffee that Poppy made and laugh and talk about our jobs and tell stories from summers past. They let me snap some pictures of their plates for my blog and I mentally put together the post as Poppy takes our dishes to the kitchen.
A wind chime tinkles in the corner, the warm afternoon breeze gently nudging it back and forth as we sit, stomachs full, and relax. Branch sits across from me, his feet up on the table again, his hands on his belly and eyes closed. Finn stretches outon a chaise beside him, a binder of football-related stuff on his lap. Poppy comes back from the kitchen and sits next to me.
A contented sigh passes my lips as I feel my body, although sore from my romps with Branch, give in. It’s one of those moments I’ve experienced only a few times in my life. It’s a calm in the center of my core, a contentedness that I wish I could channel every day.
My computer sits beside me where I left it at some point. As Poppy checks her email on her phone, I attach my phone to my laptop and download the pictures I just took for the blog. Wanting to get the vision I have for the Summer Fun post I can see so clearly, I click open my browser. There are tabs lining the top and I start to click on each one and close them.
Then I stop.
My eyes dart from the screen, over the rim of the computer to Branch, and back to the screen again.
I gulp.
I hit refresh.
Exposé’swebsite is front and center, a tab open from when I was checking on Callum when we first got here.
Now, on the main page, is a picture ofBranchin Crave. He’s wearing the same shirt he came in that night smelling like the bar. The letters hanging above his head, in all bold caps, reads: “Best Having the Best Time.”
A lump sits in my throat, my cheeks hot like I’m going to get caught doing something wrong. When I glance up at Branch, he hasn’t moved.
I don’t need to peruse the article to know what it’s going to say. The picture of the girl in shorts so short you can almost see her hoohah sitting on Branch’s lap is pretty much a spoiler. Still, I’m a glutton for punishment, so I read on.
Exposé Alert: Best Having the Best Time
Seems like our favorite bromance hit up local favorite, Crave, in tiny Linton, Illinois this week. Our sources tell us Miller was seen buying shots and playing pool while our honey-haired honey Best went missing in action with the “lucky” lady on his lap.
These two are in town on a quick retreat before the pre-season starts and should be reporting for training in just a few short days. Anyone else awaiting those pictures and stories? Just us? Didn’t think so.
