Page 94 of Home Field Advantage
I shrug. “I guess I just always associated it with being a bar.”
“Duh. But that’s because you come late at night. It’s also a family-friendly place. Take my girl out to dinner. You both deserve it,” she says, patting my good shoulder and retreating from the field.
I nod, because we do. I turn to look at the mini team I’ve built, consisting of kids who share the same love for the sport and are looking for an outlet to play. I came here to get away, but I think, somehow, I found the one thing I wasn’t looking for.
People who don’t care about my resume and who I am outside of this town.
A neighbor I can’t stop thinking about.
Friends who love my daughter as if she were one of their own.
A place to stay.
“We should adopt a dog,” Sage says with a mouthful of French fries.
“That’s so left field,” I choke out, nearly spitting out my soda.
“Actually, it’s very home base.”
Both of us pause, staring at each other while we let the pun register, and then we break into a fit of hysterics. Sage bends over the table with tears in her eyes, and I can barely breathe. I never knew how much I needed this moment until now.
Memories of the family in San Francisco, the last time I was out with Mitch and Tyler, flood back, almost sobering my laughter. But it does nothing to wipe the smile off my face. That family there—that dad laughing with his daughter—it’s something I’ve always dreamed of but never allowed myself to experience. Life has always moved at lightning speed for me. I missed so much because of it. I spent the moments we should cherish as parents rushing to get to the next thing, only to rush to the thing after that. A constant cycle repeating until one day I woke up, and Sage was six.
This town has slowed me down drastically.
This town has opened my eyes to life moving at the speed it’s meant to.
I may have spent the better part of my life making reckless and impulsive decisions, but this one has paid off.
Griffin shows up at our table mid laughter. “Can I get you two anything else to drink?”
Sage nods. “My throat is so dry it’s doing the desert dance.”
“That’s a new one,” Griffin says in a serious tone, but the smile on his face tells me he wants to laugh. My guess is he reserves all of that for Blair.
“I’ll take another soda, and she’ll have water,” I tell Griffin.
His phone rings, and he rolls his eyes when he looks at the screen. “My sisters and Blair are going to destroy my house.”
The mention of his sister only makes me think of Poppy that much more.
“Is everything okay?” I ask curiously.
He turns his phone to face me, and on it is a picture of the three women sitting on the couch in Griffin’s house, posing and laughing so hard that they can barely hold it together. The wine glasses in their hands look like they are going to spill over. My eyes focus on one person, and only one person. The way her long, strawberry blonde hair sits on the top of her head in a messy bun. The sweater that’s falling off her shoulder, exposing the delicate shape of her collarbone. My tongue swipes along my bottom lip, wondering what it would taste like to trail my lips along every inch of exposed skin.
She’s perfect.
She’s the fever I don’t want to break.
She’s everything I crave.
“You know, Blair said something and I wasn’t one hundred percent sure myself until now.”
“Huh?” I say, forcing myself out of the daze from the picture on his phone.
He pockets it, and I see the smirk on his lips. “So, Poppy, huh?” He raises an eyebrow in question, and I avert my gaze to the half-eaten chicken sandwich in front of me. “I hate saying it, but Blair was right, it seems.”
“We looooove Poppy,” Sage cuts into the conversation, oblivious of the tension rolling off of me.
