Page 58 of Love at Teamsgiving
“Come and get it.”
I huff. “Do you have to be difficult?”
“No. But you like it, so consider it a good deed.”
I squint. “You’re obnoxious.”
“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”
“Did you wear your helmet to your last practice?”
“Are you suggesting I got hit in the head?”
I shrug and realize all eyes are on us, bobbing back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match.
Picking up Miguel’s chicken sandwich, I say, “Looks good. Guess I’ll eat it.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be right here when you want your cheeseburger.”
“You can have it. I don’t want your germs.”
“You already do, sweetheart.”
I’m not sure what I expected, but everyone dissolves into laughter and one of the guys says, “Never mind the fantasy league, I’m placing my bets on these two.”
“If they don’t kill each other first,” another replies.
I’m not sure who’s talking because my gaze is fixed on Miguel, who winks at me again.
I glare and shake my head.
He leans in and says, “We can continue to do this the hard way.”
“Or the easy way, right? And what would that be?” I ask.
“You know.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Give in.”
“And let you win?”
“No, end the battle, stop fighting, and admit you still love me.”
The chatter and laughter die.
I open and close my mouth, feeling very much like a goldfish in a fishbowl.
Margo leans in and whispers, “Uh, do you guys need a minute?”
Hayden says, “No way am I letting my food get cold.”
“They can take it outside,” Redd adds.
“And risk having to peel our center off the sidewalk?” Pierre asks.
“Your call,” Miguel says to me.
