Page 95 of Home Field Advantage
Yes, I have a thing for his sister.
Yes, I kissed her, and it only made those feelings that much stronger.
No, I’m not admitting any of that to Griffin.
“She’s the best, huh?” Griffin says to Sage.
“Yep. Mr. Griffin, do you think Poppy likes my dad more than a friend?”
My eyes widen, bouncing between Sage and Griffin. He has the same shocked look on his face. I can feel the color drain frommy face with how bold that question is when I don’t even know what’s really happening between us.
I know I can’t stop thinking about her.
I know if given the chance, she would bring me to my knees in an instant.
“Poppy likes a lot of people,” Griffin says with certainty. “As far as liking your dad more than a friend”—he faces me, still answering her question—”I think she could. But she struggles to let people in. I don’t know why, but she does. If she lets you in enough to see that part of her she chooses to keep hidden, consider yourself lucky.” He leans down, close to my ear, so only I can hear. “I know where to find you. Don’t fuck it up.”
I nod, understanding what he means without asking more.
The parts she keeps hidden, I know them.
She told me everything there was to know about her, and she let me in.
Everything just got a whole lot clearer.
I need to see Poppy.
CHAPTER 24
ASK ME AGAIN, DALLAS.
Poppy
As I stand in the middle of my living room, I look around with a smile on my face. There’s nothing that tickles my brain more than seeing my home put together and clean at the end of the night. The puzzle I finished last night is boxed back up and tucked away in the small TV stand I have, the kitchen counters are wiped clean, and the pillows are fluffed. Reaching into the drawer on the end table, I pull out the lighter to light my favorite candle fromStella Candle Co., calledMain Street, that I stocked up on during their recent holiday collection launch.
A creamy, peppermint mocha scent fills the space, and I’ve never felt happier.
Looking at the time, I see that it’s still early, but getting darker out. I turn on the table lamp to its dim setting for ambiance. First, I pull out my notepad and pen and make a list of what I need to get done tomorrow.
1. 30 minute yoga session
2. organize closet and put away laundry
3. lesson plans for the week
Now that that’s out of the way, I decide to rummage through the boxes of puzzles to start a new one for the night. I only have one left that I haven’t done before, so I add:order a new puzzleto the list.
A knock on the door startles me, because I’m not expecting company.
I never am, really.
When I open it, I find Dallas standing on the other side. His eyes down to the wooden boards of my porch before they slowly meet mine. He’s dressed for comfort in a pair of light gray sweatpants and a long-sleeved thermal that hugs every muscle on his body. I hug the cardigan I’m wearing over my tank top tighter, because my body is fully aware of him standing there, but I can’t find words to come out of my mouth.
I want to ask what he’s doing here.
I want to ask if he’s okay.
I want to ask if he can kiss me again.
