Page 108 of Third and Ten

“Yeah, I guess,” he reluctantly concedes. “Could you take the PDA down a notch, though?”

“Seriously? The stairwell thing was a fluke. And we literally just hugged in public for the first time,” I protest.

“Okay, then how about the in-front-of-E-DA?”

I turn to him, ready to defend myself, but he’s smiling. “And you mean to tell me that you and Caidence haven’t kissed yet?”

He licks his lips, his ears turning red almost instantly. “Well, that’s different.”

“Oh, is it?”

“Yeah. We’re—”

“Young? And what, JD and I are too old for that at the ripe old age of thirty?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

I reach over and whack him in the arm with the back of my hand. “For the record, we’re adults. You and Caidence, on the other hand, are not. That means JD and I have the right to do whatever adults do. And you and Caidence do not. Got it?”

“But Coach said…” he begins, trailing off as soon as he realizes he’s revealed too much.

“Coach said what?”

“That it wasn’t like that.”

“Wait, what does that even mean?”

“That you guys were waiting to…you know…”

“He told you that?” I’m surprised to hear that JD’s been talking about this part of our relationship with Ethan, though I suppose it could have come up in their discussion last night, especially under the circumstances.

“I mean, sort of. Ugh, why are we still talking about this?”

“What? Sex?” I ask brightly, just to watch him squirm.

He cringes. “Gah, do you have to do that?”

“Technically, it’s how I make my living, you know,” I say, holding back a smirk.

“That’s like the worst dad joke in history,” he says with another groan.

“Ethan, you do realize that someone has to make the babies before I deliver them, right?” I say in an exaggerated whisper.

“Yes. Pop gave me the talk a few years ago, okay? And I basically got round two from JD last night.”

We both quiet after his mention of my dad, the awkward conversation we’ve been using to avoid the inevitable finally outliving its utility. I reach over after a minute and grip his hand in mine.

“It’s not fair, you know,” he murmurs.

“I know,” I return.

He sniffles and lets go of my hand to wipe his face. “I guess I should get this out now. I’m sure we’re supposed to be strong or whatever people say once we get back.”

“That’s a load of crap,” I say. “Pop won’t want us to cry over him forever, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind us showing him that we’ll miss him just a little, right?”

He laughs through his tears. “Yeah, maybe.”

My phone chimes, so I snatch it up before Ethan can see the message, praying it isn’t a sign that we’ll be too late. To my relief, it’s just my mom asking us to be careful on the road.

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