Page 72 of Sweet Spot
“No.” Her smile falls only slightly. “He still isn’t getting around that well, but I went by and told him about it after.”
She’s quiet for a second and then goes back to telling me about the tournament. “Oh, and you should have heard Coach this afternoon. One of the local news stations was there, and Potter walked up in the middle of my interview like he was my number-one fan. He told them, and I quote, ‘Keira’s made a lot of really solid improvements this season, and our hard work is finally paying off.’Ourhard work, like he had any part of it.”
“Potter’s a prick. He’s going to take every opportunity he can to make it about him. You did this. Not him.”
“Wedid this. You and me.”
“No. This was all you. No one made you get up day after day and put in the work. I’ve coached a lot of people, especially when I was just starting out. They’d tell me how bad they wanted it, they’d fork over thousands of dollars for lessons, but when push came to shove, they wouldn’t put in the work. So, no,wedidn’t do this. It was all you. Own it. Enjoy it.”
She flops onto her bed, still holding the phone out so I can see her face. “Tell me about your day.”
“Spent it with my parents, got to watch Kenton play, and then he had a few people over after the game.”
“Did his team win?”
“Yep, it was a good day for both of you.”
She settles back against her headboard. “What are your parents like?”
“They’re cool. Dad was a high school history teacher and golf coach, and my mother worked in advertising. They retired a couple of years ago and primarily live in upstate New York. That’s where my mother’s from originally. I have a bunch of aunts and uncles out there.”
“Do you see them often?”
“They come back to Scottsdale every few months, and Kenton and I go up there for Christmas every year. It’s cold as fuck.” She covers a yawn as I talk. “I should let you get some sleep.”
“Fat chance of me sleeping tonight.” She yawns again. “Are you coming back early tomorrow?”
“No. Kenton has another game tomorrow, so we’re staying until just after it. I should be back to Arizona about the time you’re finishing the tournament. I’m sorry I’m gonna miss you kicking ass.”
“I understand.” The tone of her voice says that may not be entirely true.
“All right, baby, get some sleep.”
“Uh-uh. I wanna keep talking to you.”
“Close your eyes.”
Her brown, tired eyes widen in defiance.
“Just do it.”
She gets up from the bed and walks across her room. A second later, it darkens. “Fine, but if I fall asleep, promise me that you’ll hang up immediately. I don’t want you watching me drool or snore.” She makes a horrified face as she climbs back into bed and lies down, but then her long lashes flutter closed and fan out against her fair skin.
I turn on the television in my room to the sports channel and turn off the lamp on the nightstand.
“Are you going to tell me a bedtime story?”
I chuckle quietly. “Will it help you fall asleep?”
“Maybe.” She turns onto her side and opens her eyes briefly to position the phone on the bed next to her. The angle has the top of her head cut off but gives me an eyeful of the cleavage popping out of her tank top—a darkened eyeful, but still an eyeful. “Tell me about your first pro tournament.”
“You wanna talk golf right now?” I swear this girl never gets sick of the topic. She’s more hardcore than I am.
“Well, I’m too tired for phone sex, and golf is the next best thing.” Eyes still closed, her mouth tips into a sleepy smile.
Just the mention of sex makes my dick twitch, pleading with me to make her reconsider, sleep be damned. Ignoring the semi, I adjust myself with one hand and think back to my pro debut. “It was in Milwaukee. I’m sure I was scared shitless, but the only thing I can remember is how excited I was to be in the same place as guys I’d looked up to for so long—some my entire life.”
“You don’t look nervous in the videos and pictures online.”
