Page 23 of Racing Heat
“Street tacos aren’t necessarily things you would typically see at a sporting event, either. The Maxwells just like to be extra.”
“Eh, I kind of like it. Better for you than this junk.” He picks up a pretzel and pops it into his mouth, sans cheese.
“You missed the best part,” I tell him, gesturing to the cheese.
“I did. But in my opinion, nothing will beat the cheese and pretzels from back home.”
“Oh, here we go again with the food back home,” I tease him. Hendrix has told me about his opinion on America’s take on English cuisine.
“I haven’t lectured you about that.” He shakes his head at me. “Unless, of course, Hendrix is spilling all my secrets.”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘spilling your secrets.’ I think she’s more so bitching about you.” I laugh, then look over and catch him watching me. The intensity of his stare makes me flush a bit.
“You okay?” he asks, like he caught my flush and has no idea why I would be blushing.
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Just fine.”
I nod. “That’s good. Are you having fun today?”
“I am. Mac did a really good job planning this. I know she was worried earlier, but everyone seems to be having a great time.”
“They do. She always worries too much,” I tell him.
“There’s a lot at stake being a captain. It’s not like when you two were in college and served as captains. Professional teams have higher standards.”
I turn to him, surprised. “How did you know I was a captain in Portland?”
He smirks. “Research.”
“Research?” I question.
“Well, yeah. I’ve done research on all the girls. And I remember a few details.”
He says it like it’s natural, and maybe it is. But I want it to mean more. I want him to be remembering things he learned aboutmemore than the others. I shouldn’t, though. It shouldn’t be that way.
“Did you Google me?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nope, I didn’t have to. The Blaze put together those packets on the coaching and training staff, so all I had to do was read your bio.”
He nods. “I bet my bio didn’t have that I was married.”
“It certainly did not. But you saidweremarried, right?”
“Yes, past tense,” he replies.
“Okay,” I reply slowly, unsure of where he’s going with this. Is he going to bring up the conversation from our run, where I told him I didn’t think of him as marriage material.
“Hey, Cas, wanna come ride with me again?” Amelia asks.
“Love it,” I say, rising. “Try some of the cheese, Ford.”
I leave him with those parting words. Looking over my shoulder, I find him staring at me, brow furrowed and eyes intensely following me like he’s trying to figure me out.
Good. I hope he wonders about me as I wonder why he mentioned brought up his marriage again.
The rest of the team bonding goes on without any more interactions with Jase. I’m not sure why that bothers me so much, but it does. At least we have our runs, and maybe I’ll get to ask some of those questions of him. Out of the prying eyes of my teammates and coaches.
