Page 47 of I Got You

“Yes.”

I smile. “Shaney, she’s got it bad for you. I bet her walls are covered with your face, and she’s planning your wedding and how many kids you’ll have.”

“You’re not helping,” he says, unamused. “Girls like that freak me out, not to mention she’s too young.”

“She’s not that much younger than me.”

“You’re different.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, you just are. You’re mature and don’t act all…stalkerish.”

“Oh my gosh.” I throw my head back. “Shane Carter likes the chase. The hard to get.” Laughter burst out of me. “I need to put out a news bulletin for all your female stalker fans.”

He pulls the bottle from his lips. “The only news bulletin going out is that I’m now off the market. Hopefully, Big Red will get it.”

I bend forward, holding my aching stomach muscles. “If she’s truly a stalker, the only thing that’s going to do is make her want you more now that she can’t have you.”

Shane rubs a hand over his face. “You’re seriously not helping.”

I reach over and pat his shoulder, trying to calm myself. “Don’t worry, big guy. I won’t let her kidnap you and tie you up in her basement. I’ll chase her down and scare her off with my secret whoop-ass powers. Deal?” I hold out my hand, waiting for him to slap it.

Shane turns me with an intensity that wasn't there before, killing my laughter. Something is happening behind those eyes, making me squirm just a little.

He slaps my waiting hand but holds on to it. “Deal.”

After a few long seconds, he lets go while I try to understand what just happened. “See, we got this,” I say in an attempt to lighten things up again and decide to change the subject. “So, tomorrow morning is church if you’d like to come with us, and then it’s sports highlights, movies, and relaxation. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have time to do your own things.”

When he doesn’t say anything, I try again.

“Thanks for changing my oil. I know it needed to be done, but finding the time for stuff like that is overwhelming.”

“You're welcome.” He’s retreated again, so I push.

“Where did you learn to do that? Most players I know wouldn’t even know how to pop the hood.”

Shane takes a breath and rests his bottle on his leg, taking his time like he’s trying to determine how to answer the question or if he wants to.

“One of the homes I was placed in, the guy owned a shop. Part of the requirement of being there was earning my keep, so he showed me, and I learned quickly. One of the more useful things I picked up.”

I look at him out of the corner of my eye, sensing the uneasiness that rose with asking a question about his past. He’s only shared with me that he grew up moving from one home to the next, and I’ve not pressed it beyond that, wanting him to share what he’s comfortable with. At some point, I hope he’ll trust me enough to share more.

“Can I ask you a question you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to?” I want to know more, but I give him an out I’m perfectly fine with him taking.

His eyes meet mine in only the light of the fire. “Does that go both ways?”

“I guess that’s only fair.” I take a sip of beer, hoping my question doesn’t make him retreat further. “Did you know either of your parents?”

He exhales and takes another sip of his beer. “I entered the system when I was five. I only have a vague memory of my mom. My dad, I didn’t know anything about him until after my first season in the pros. I hired someone to help me find him and didn’t like what I found.”

He doesn’t say any more than that, and it’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“I know ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t help,” I say, knowing it really doesn’t. “Some people just get dealt really shitty parents, relationships, and situations. Hopefully, it makes the good ones all that more special.”

That big head turns in my direction again, but he doesn’t say a word. I can’t tell what his expression is saying, and we stare at each other. Him thinking something, and me wanting to know what it is.

I smile, sitting up a little taller in my seat, preparing myself. “Ok, Grizz. I’m ready, but be nice.”

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