Page 10 of Play Maker

My lethargy faded instantly, and I sat up. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I drank a little too much at dinner and then didn’t eat dinner. Will you come get me?”

I hit speakerphone so I could get dressed, pulling on the first pair of shorts I grabbed. “Where are you?”

Blue hesitated, sending my pulse skyrocketing. “I’m at the corner of Wood and Main…in Dallas.”

A quick search told me I was forty-five minutes away. “Is there somewhere nearby you can wait?”

“There’s a coffee place on the corner.”

“Perfect. Go inside. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I was already grabbing my keys and hustling out the door.

“Thanks, Adam.”

She hung up before I could ask what had happened or why she didn’t just call an Uber. I’d find out soon enough.

* * *

I pulledup to the coffee shop on the corner of Wood and Main forty-two minutes later, and Blue was exactly where she said she’d be. She sat by the front window staring into space, her sharp features highlighted by the bright interior of the building.

When I opened the door and stuck my head out to whistle, she blinked, focusing on me instead of whatever was haunting her. She wasted no time climbing into my Jeep, and I waited until she buckled up before I reversed out of the parking spot.

I kept my eyes on the road despite the tiny dress riding up her thighs as she tucked her legs under her. “Want to talk about it?”

Blue pressed her lips together for a second, then reached up to pull the pins from her updo. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

Her hair fell around her shoulders in wild waves, and I squeezed the wheel to keep my hands on my side of the vehicle. The rainbow streaks hidden under layers of dark chocolate brown made me a little grabby. I loved the surprise pop of fun mixed with her natural color, or what I assumed was her natural color.

Blue shook her head and ran her fingers through the tresses a couple of times before she slumped back against the seat. “My mom is getting married.”

“You don’t look happy, so it must not be to Archer Bolme.”

Her gaze cut my direction.

“What? I can’t know things? He’s on SportsCenter all the time, and he’s a local legend. Add in Eva is a little bit in love with your mom, and I know way more than I want to about hockey’s bad boy coach.”

“I didn’t realize college football stars followed professional hockey.”

“I have many skills, which I will gladly talk about for hours on end, but we’re not discussing me. What’s wrong with your mom getting married to not-Archer?”

She rubbed her temples, and I made a mental note to get some water in her as soon as possible. “Rob, my mom’s boyfr—fiancé—is sad gooey white bread when she could have had a delicious crusty sourdough. Who she dates or marries isn’t my choice though. Which is apparently a good thing because according to them I am incapable of finding a date to the wedding festivities on my own.”

At that moment, I decided I’d never call him Rob. Not-Archer would live on in infamy. “So you got shit-faced and walked out on dinner?”

“I did not get shit-faced. I had too much wine in a short period of time…then I walked out on dinner.” A giggle escaped from her, and I revised her level of drunk. Not sloppy, but definitely tipsy.

“Okay, first, food. We’re stopping at Papi’s. Second, why do you care what white bread not-Archer thinks?”

The smile faded, and she turned to stare out the window at the passing darkness. “It’s not important.”

“Bullshit. If it wasn’t important, you’d be eating steak right now instead of frowning at the trees.”

“Maybe I’d rather spend time with you than Rob and Shad.”

I ignored the little ball of warmth growing in my chest to make sure I’d heard her right. “Shad?”

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