Page 5 of One and Only

“Gawd, Greer. Please don’t talk with your mouth full when he gets there.”

I laughed. “I won’t.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Clothes.”

She groaned.

With a sigh, I glanced down. “Dark jeans, nude heels, and the black wrap top that you said makes my boobs look good.”

Poppy hummed. “I’ll accept it.”

“It’s not a date, Pops.” I actually wasn’t sure what my activities could be called, other than a night trapped in a hell of my own making.

Curse my soft gooey heart who would do anything for my family.

Curse it up, down, and sideways.

She ignored me. “I can’t believe you don’t know who it is.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t know. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“Greer.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why, do you have the entire roster memorized?”

“Yes.”

I laughed even though I damn well knew my little sister was serious. The Portland expansion team was still relatively new in the league, and our brother Parker had transferred in the off-season.

He was close to home, just a few hours west of Sisters, Oregon, where our family lived. And our family … well … that was a touchy subject at the moment. We were all a little raw and, judging by my current state of affairs, not making the best decisions.

“Text me when he gets there. I wanna know who it is.”

“I’m not going to text you once my meeting starts,” I said offhandedly, turning to look at the front of the restaurant. Miranda shrugged. If he was too late, he might run into contestant five’s time, and I was not trying to make this night harder than it already was. “But his name is Beckett. There. Now you can go about your evening and leave me to mine.”

“Wait,” Poppy said, “Beckett Alvarez or Beckett Coleman? They are bothcute. Alvarez is their center. Coleman is a tight end with Parker.”

I rubbed my forehead. “I don’t know, Poppy.”

“I can’t believe you’re so blasé about this!”

With another glance at my watch, and the realization that he was now even later than I’d thought he would be, I shifted irritably in my seat. “Poppy.” I sighed. “Let it go.”

“What? It’s a big deal that Parker asked for your help. He’s not talking to any of us right now. The dick,” she muttered under her breath.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “He’s not a dick. He’s grieving.”

“We all are,” she pointed out. “But he’s the only one grievingandavoiding us.”

“I know.” I took another bite of food. A really, really big one.

“They have to be friends if Parker asked you to help.”

There wasn’t enough bruschetta in front of me. I stared at the remaining pieces and tried not to pout when Rocco swooped in and cleared the plate before Beckett Unknown Last Name arrived.

Emotional eating was so real, and the more Poppy talked about why Parker was ignoring our family, and why I was in Portland, I was gonna need a loaf of bread the size of my face.

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