Page 17 of Comeback
She holds the bag out to him. He takes two, then she offers it to me. I shake my head. “No thanks.”
“Archer thinks they’re gross.” Brogan rolls his eyes at me.
“They’re too sweet,” I say and make a face. “And they turn your tongue weird colors.”
Sabrina sticks her tongue out and tries to look at it.
“You’re good,” Brogan says with a laugh.
“Thank you for all of this,” Sabrina says. “I’m really grateful to be here.”
My gut twists. I wish her politeness didn’t make me feel like such an asshole.
“It’s going to be a blast,” Brogan promises.
She nods and then says, “I should finish unpacking. Are you going to be around today?”
“We have practice this afternoon.”
“Right, the season is about to start. When’s your first game?” Sabrina asks as she opens the candle and smells it. She must like it because she sets it on the dresser, leaving the lid off.
“Thursday at home. I can get you a ticket if you want to come. You could sit with London or I could get you another ticket to bring a friend. No pressure. Just an option. You can let me know later in the week if you want to come.” He looks as uncomfortable as he ever does as he finally stops talking and rubs his hands together in front of him. “Anyway, holler if you need anything.”
He backs out of the room. I don’t know why I don’t do the same, but I linger, and Sabrina looks at me.
“He’s excited you’re here.”
“Yeah. Me too. Thanks for the gifts.”
I open my mouth to tell her I didn’t have any part of it, but instead just smile and nod.
I’m about to turn and leave, when she asks, “What about you?”
“Am I excited you’re here?”
“No.” She laughs incredulously. “I think I know the answer to that.”
Yep, I’m definitely an asshole.
“What’s your favorite candy?” she asks.
Oh. “I don’t really like candy.”
She keeps staring at me like my answer is unacceptable.
“If I had to choose, I’d say Butterfinger.”
Brogan got her some of those too, because of course he did. He damn near bought out the candy aisle. She grabs the Butterfinger and tosses it at me. I catch the candy bar in one hand
“Truce?” Her dark brown eyes swirl with uncertainty.
I consider her words, then step forward. The room already smells like her, something light but sweet. I drop the candy back on top of her pile. “We don’t need a truce. He’s happy. That’s all I care about.”
I just hope he stays that way.
After practice, Coach meets with the receivers in one of the conference rooms. He goes over game film with us and talks through our plan for this week’s game.
Graham sits next to me, his leg bouncing nonstop. It creates just enough background noise that I’m leaning away from him to better hear Coach. I miss whatever the last thing he said was and now he’s looking at me expectantly.
