Loving Him Off the Field (Santa Fe Bobcats #2)(26)

She hadn’t meant it in a negative way, but he shook his head. “It’s not a chore. I mean, it’s just the deal. What plans do you have? I’ll come with you. Same thing you’d be doing with me.”

He was right, but she didn’t want to say. “Just, you know . . .” She mumbled the rest, then tried to duck into the car. His hand wrapped around her upper arm and halted her escape.

“Didn’t hear you, Freckles. What is it?”

She looked away and muttered it again.

“Speak up, Aileen.”

“Bowling. League,” she snapped. “There. Satisfied? I’m in a bowling league. And when I’m not working or at home, I’m at the bowling alley.”

His brows rose in surprise but, to her relief, she didn’t see any mockery in it. “Bowling league. That’s . . . unexpected.” He nodded a little, looking at her as if trying to picture her in an alley, holding a ball. “Yeah, okay. So I’ll go with you.” When she gave him a scathing look, he smiled. “Maybe I like bowling myself. Maybe I’ll take the lane next to you and get in a few rounds while you do your thing.”

“Maybe pigs will fly,” she muttered. “You can come, but you can’t make fun of my friends.” It would be horrible, she realized, if he ruined her league for her. It was the only thing that kept her sane.

“I wouldn’t,” he said, and his face held such sincerity, she didn’t question it.

“Fine. Just . . . be there around five if you want. But I warn you, I’m not going to have a lot of time to talk. I’ll be in the zone.” Even as she said it, she realized how stupid it probably sounded to a non-bowler. But he just agreed and let go of her arm. Until he did, she hadn’t realized he’d been holding her in a gentle grip the entire time.

He watched her another moment and, almost resigned, he bent and brushed a kiss over the corner of her mouth. “It’s not a chore,” he said again. Then he turned and went to his car.

She resisted the urge to run her fingertips over the corner he’d just kissed, to see if it felt as hot to the touch as she thought it did. But when he didn’t start his car, she realized he was waiting for her to leave before going himself. She hopped in the car, sent up a quick prayer, and started Sybil on the first try.

“Sybil,” she said as she pulled out of her parking spot, Killian right behind, “you won’t believe my day.”

*

Michael and Josiah walked by his locker after their team meeting. “Wanna grab a burger?”

Killian glanced at his watch, surprised that he was seriously considering it. “I would, but I have somewhere to be.” Practice had run over, and then the team meeting had taken forever, so he was already late for the start of her game. Match? League? Practice? He didn’t know what to call it, but he did know he was running too far behind to sit around and gab.

Josiah looked dubious, but said nothing.

Michael had no such reservations. “Dude, don’t be an anti-social nut sac. Come eat with us. We’re about to go on the road for two weeks straight so let’s just hang out tonight.”

He hid a grin as he bent over and zipped up his bag. “Unlike popular belief, I’m actually not a . . . what was that term you just used? An anti-social nut sac.” He clapped Michael on the shoulder as they all headed toward the exit. “But I actually do have plans.”

“What?” Michael asked, clearly not believing him.

“I’m meeting up with Freckles.”

“Who?” Michael asked.

“Aileen?” Josiah paused mid-step, forcing both Michael and Killian to glance behind them. “You’re going out with a reporter? Lambert’s wrong. Your sac isn’t anti-social, it’s made of brass.”

He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “She’s okay. But it’s not social,” he hastened to add as the other two exchanged a look. “She’s been hounding me for an interview so I agreed. I’m just trying to annoy her into giving up before things actually get started. I figure me pestering her while she’s doing something she likes—like she pesters me at my job—is the quickest way to get that accomplished.”

They both looked like they doubted him, but said nothing.

“Thanks for the offer, though,” he added after some thought. When they reached the parking lot, he took a chance and said, “Next time?”

Michael shot him a thumbs-up before heading to his car. Josiah walked to his hybrid SUV—too cold to bike today—and gave him a wave.

Killian tried to remember the last time he’d hung out with his teammates. His freshman year . . . when he’d met Emma. He hitched his bag in the back and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was twenty-nine. Wasn’t it time for him to start having a social life again? A select few guys, maybe. The ones who wouldn’t say shit even if they found out about Charlie and Emma. The kind who wouldn’t blink before agreeing to protect a little kid.

Yeah. He watched both Michael and Josiah pull out. Maybe it was time to try.

*

He wasn’t coming.

Aileen refused to dissect exactly why that made her so sad. Sure, he’d promised, so she expected him to show up. But it wasn’t like he was obligated. They didn’t have a cheering section, and it wasn’t like she’d saved him a seat. It was just league play, like any other week.