Page 70 of Third and Ten

It takes me a second to realize that Blake must have encouraged JD to show up today. While I hadn’t bought JD’s claims about his brother trying to push us together before, it makes more sense in hindsight.

“And then he made me promise never to scare you like that again or I’d have to get someone to pour my next drink down a feeding tube, right before we caught an early Mass,” he says, sighing.

I chuckle lightly to downplay how much I’m feeling JD’s tough-dad vibe. “I suppose you learned your lesson, then?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Have you spoken to Caidence?”

He nods. “She said we were cool, but I can tell she’s still really upset with me.” I notice a blush creeping up his face as he continues. “Coach also had me drive to her house and apologize to her in person, in front of her parents.”

I smile to myself because JD is pretty freaking amazing. Maybe I’m not exactly prepared or even built for parenting a teenager, but at least I’m lucky enough to have good help.

“You do realize he’s only being this tough because he cares so much about you, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he returns shyly.

We get home to find my parents waiting impatiently to congratulate us on the results of the hearing before launching into their relentless teasing. And I know it’s only going to get worse by the evening, since my mom’s insisting on having JD over for dinner.

“You know me and how much I love saying ‘I told you so’,” she announces with a satisfied smile.

I sigh, taking my lick. “Yeah, yeah. You all called it.”

“This could have gone a lot easier if you hadn’t been so stubborn,” my dad explains, grinning widely. “And you can’t blame me for being excited about your draft pick, especially since I was afraid I’d miss out on actually seeing the two of you together.”

“Daddy, could you please stop being so morbid?” I grumble, secretly pleased with his approval of JD.

“Well, then, you should probably move this along, because I’m planning to remind you every day from here on out that I want another grandkid before I kick the bucket,” he replies dryly, eliciting a gasp from me, a nudge from my mom, and a laugh from Ethan.

I cover my face with my hands since my cheeks are on fire. “I knew I should have gotten my own place.”

“I bet JD has plenty of room,” my dad offers. “He looks like a king-sized-bed kind of guy.”

My eyes widen. “Dad!” I squeal. He’s always been a jokester, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard him being this inappropriate before.

He shrugs while the others laugh. “What? Don’t you have a degree proving you know how all that stuff works, anyway?”

“Well, yeah, but you could at least let us go on a few dates first.”

Then my phone chimes, and I mumble a “pas bon” at him before I walk away. I’m needed at the clinic while Dr. Simms goes in for a C-section, so I change into my scrubs before driving to work and slipping in through the back, hoping to get done as quickly as possible.

Okay, so I’m admittedly eager to see JD again. Looking forward to going home is new for me, but I’m starting to like the idea of having a life outside of work, especially if it means spending more time with him.

And if getting to know JD better means that we happen to engage in the occasional make-out session, so be it, right?

Another text alert brings me back from daydreaming about kissing JD while he flexes his arm muscles for me again. It’s Loren, checking to see how the hearing went. We’ve been talking regularly since we met for coffee a couple of weeks ago, when she graciously accepted my long-overdue apology for mishandling things when we were kids. But I’d held off on giving her an update after JD finally made his move the other night—I guess because I was afraid I’d accidentally fess up to something I wasn’t ready to admit.

I explain everything that happened with Ethan, and then she asks how things are going with JD. I bite my lip as I brief her on the latest developments, and it only takes a second for her to reply with a list of questions. The next thing I know, I’m hiding in a corner and twirling my hair around my finger as I gush about JD and his kissing skills.

One of the medical assistants calls for me, so I reluctantly put my phone away and try to school my expression before emerging from my hiding spot. I glance through the chart she offers me and duck into the first exam room, pleased to find one of my favorite patients awaiting me.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Thibodeaux. How are you today?”

“Besides feeling like a whale already, I’m great, Nurse Tenley,” she answers, groaning as she shifts on the exam table. “But I’d be better if you’d just call me Sybil.”

I laugh politely and pretend to study her chart in an attempt to hide my giddiness.

“You seem quite chipper this afternoon.”

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