Pining for your best friend sucks ass—and not the good kind of sucking. But I can’t back away, and I definitely can’t let go. Eddie Phelps is too damn important to me. He has my heart and soul. Well, he and his daughter, a ten-year-old who one day will run the world.
It’s not like I can even blame Eddie for mixed signals or anything. He’s done everything right. He always does. Honestly, that’s part of his problem.
But I won’t put pressure on him. That means it’s down to Eddie to see how freakin’ awesome a catch I am. I just have no idea how exactly I’ll get him to do that.
Sure, I’m a professional basketball player. But once upon a time, so was he. It’s going to take something huge to get him to see beyond my age *cough immaturity cough*. But since Eddie isn’t one for making wrong moves, I’m not sure a grand gesture will work.
That leads me back to pining, and hoping somehow, someway, he’ll see me as more than a joker. More than his best friend—even though I’m a kick-ass one. Maybe someday, he’ll know I’m exactly the person he needs to make the move on.
The loud burst of music from my phone made me jump. I fumbled with it, a frown already forming as I glanced at the screen. Immediately, it flipped into a smile, tension rushing out of me.
“Hey, back. Whatcha doing?”
God, it was good to hear his voice. The man had the ability to chase away my frustration and unhappiness with just the curve of his smile or the cadence of a single syllable. “Just put Lottie to bed, then going to grab a shower.”
“Thank Christ. I can smell the stench from here. Lottie begged me earlier to make sure you hosed down. The shame of traveling with you tomorrow would have been too much for her. She was threatening legal action.”
I chuckled, breathing easier listening to his goofiness. “That right? What kind of legal action we talking? If there’s a good deal on the table…?”
“Oooh, you don’t want to mess with that girl’s plans. You’d be living on Spam and butter for the rest of your life.”
“Uhm… that’s quite a combination.”
“Right!” He laughed. “She’s an evil genius.”
“Uh-huh. But considering my girl wouldn’t recognize Spam if it landed on her plate and did a song and dance, I have a feeling you’re in on this and working out the terms.” I pulled myself up, adjusted my pillows, and leaned back, relaxing into the conversation.
“Conjecture.” He snorted. “Shit, is that even the right word to use?”
I grinned. “The hell if I know. What have you been getting into?”
“A couple of games of pool with the guys.”
“Please don’t tell me they took your money?” Pearce may have been a kick-ass basketball player, but his pool skills needed some work.
“Not at pool, but the assholes are aiming to make bank on a killer pot, apparently.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
Pearce stayed quiet for a beat before clearing his throat. “Uhm, nothing. Don’t worry about it. So, what time’s your flight?”
Brows dipping in confusion, I wondered why he was brushing off whatever he’d been talking about. A bet, I figured. It was unusual for Pearce to hold back. He said shit without thinking all the time. The outcome was usually hilarious and just a little endearing.
Becca Seymour lives and breathes all things book related. Usually with at least three books being read and two WiPs being written at the same time, life is merrily hectic. She tends to do nothing by halves so happily seeks the craziness and busyness life offers.
Living on her small property in Queensland with her human family as well as her animal family of cows, chooks, and dogs, Becca appreciates the beauty of the world around her and is a believer that love truly is love.
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