Page 39 of Playing for Keeps
“Friday,” I echo with a nod.
She grabs the door handle, pausing just for a beat before getting out. I watch as she walks toward her porch, her jean shorts hugging her hips a little too well. Just as she reaches the top step, she turns and waves.
I lift my hand in return, tapping the edge of the steering wheel once she disappears inside.
I want to follow her.
Instead, I start the engine and pull away, because for now, that’s the only move I’ve got.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Wyatt
It’s Friday morning, and I’m just about ready to head out and pick up Ivy for our trip to Phoenix.
“Did you decide where you’re taking Ivy tomorrow?” Mom asks as I step into the living room to say goodbye.
“Yeah. We’re going to the butterfly conservatory, then she wants to check out the Cardinals stadium.”
She raises an eyebrow. “The stadium? I thought she wasn’t into football.”
I laugh. “She wasn’t. I’ve converted her.”
She rolls her eyes. “Let’s just hope you haven’t bored her senseless with football talk.”
“Wow, thanks, Mom. Good to know you think my career is that dull,” I say, grinning.
She gets up from the couch, smiling as she walks over. Her hand cups my face. “You know I couldn’t be prouder of you,Wyatt. You’re doing what you love, and not many people can say that.”
I arch a brow. “Feels like there’s a ‘but’ coming.”
She steps back, shaking her head. “No ‘but.’ You’re passionate, and it sounds like Ivy sees that too.” She hesitates, then adds with a knowing smile, “She’s a sweetheart.”
I roll my eyes. I know where this is going, especially after telling her Ivy’s helping me find a new place and listing my apartment in Phoenix.
“She’s great,” I say, keeping my voice neutral. “I should go. Don’t want to be late.”
“Have fun,” Mom says with a wink.
I give her a quick wave as I head out, grabbing my overnight bag from the entryway. Most of my formal clothes are already at my apartment, so I’ve only packed the essentials. It’s a good thing too. My car’s trunk isn’t exactly spacious, and I forgot to give Ivy a heads-up. Hopefully, she doesn’t bring her entire closet.
A few minutes later, I pull into her driveway and cut the engine. Climbing out, I head up the porch steps and knock lightly on the front door. Within seconds, it swings open, and Ivy appears, looking effortlessly gorgeous in black yoga pants and a fitted tank. Her dark hair is tied up in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face. She’s not wearing any makeup, and her smile lights up the doorway.
“You’re right on time,” she says, stepping aside to let me in. “Come on in. I’ll just get my things.”
I step inside and close the door behind me, spotting her overnight bag by the stairs. Relief washes over me. It’s about the same size as mine, so it'll fit in the trunk without a problem.
I watch as she sits on the bottom step, lacing up her sneakers.
“Just this?” I ask, reaching down to grab the bag.
“Yep, that and my dress for tomorrow night. I just need to grab it from my room. Be right back.”
She jogs up the stairs, and despite my best efforts, my eyes follow her, landing on the way those yoga pants hug her ass. I shut my eyes and drop my head with a quiet groan.
“She’s your friend, Wyatt. Just your friend,” I mutter under my breath.
“You okay?” Ivy calls, and I snap my head up to see her coming back down, dress bag in hand.
