I send the text before I can think twice about it, and immediately shove my phone in my purse.

I extended an olive branch this time.

This is good. This is a good thing. I am being very adult right now and meeting Hawk halfway.

I think.

After Liam left last night, I decided three things.

One, Hawk is an amazing man and I’d be a colossal idiot to keep my head up my ass and keep stringing him along.

Two, I have to be honest with myself about who I am and what I want, otherwise, nothing good can come of anything.

I have to think about what I need, separate from what anyone else thinks or how anyone else sees me.

I imagine it’ll be easier said than done.

I’m not without any extra demons.

Three…Liam Daniels feels a lot more than he wants everyone to know. I’ve met some people who truly couldn’t seem to process more than superficial emotions over the years.

He isn’t one of them.

He’s running from just as much as I am, and I want to know what. I’ve become that cliche woman that wants to see what’s beneath the surface of a seemingly simple man.

I like how I feel around him.

I like how I feel around Hawk too but in a different way.

Hawk makes me feel…a little invincible. He’s supportive, patient…and I think if I were to have a pity party, he’d stroke my hair and tell me how much he believes in me.

Liam would probably snort and tell me to get off my ass and stop bullshitting. He seems blunter, and I like his candid humor. I feel just at ease with him as I do with Hawk.

I think there’s value in both. The biggest distinction is Liam only wants a casual relationship, and Hawk wants more.

That alone should mean I go for the long-term option, but somehow it doesn’t feel that simple.

So, I’m not choosing.

Not yet, at least. But, I am going to take a step in a direction instead of wavering.

I didn’t say I had it all figured out.

I text back and nudge Keyra, who’s talking to my dad.

“Listen up, I invited a friend and I don’t want you and the natives making a big deal about it.”

She widens her eyes mock-innocently. “Who, me? The ones you really need to worry about are the moms.”

I look down the row at my mom and their mom Camille talking animatedly about something. Probably planning Keyra’s baby shower even though it’s months away.

Dane and Harlan come back from the concessions with food in hand and move past me for their seats. “I brought that extra shirt, Mickey.”

“Wow, you told him you were inviting someone before me?” Kaija turns around, nosy as always as Harlan sits next to her. “Is it cocky elevator man or ugh.” She mocks my initial description for Hawk.

“Someone said a man?” Dad pokes his head around Keyra and I start to wonder why I thought this was a good place to start with the olive-branching.

I see him moving up the bleacher stairs, scanning the seats and I stand so he can see me. He’s wearing seafoam green shorts and a white linen button down.

He looks like a snack.

I move towards the end of the row so our first words aren’t said with my family listening in.

“Hey.” I shade my eyes and tilt my head up. He takes off his shades, grey eyes soft but hesitant.

“I was surprised you reached out to me first this time.”

“We need to talk about a few things, but…I’m doing this thing where I try not to take good people for granted.”

“Is that right?” His lips curve.

“Yep. So, I’m showing my appreciation by subjecting you to my wonderful family.” I hook an arm through his and lead him back down the row.

“You’re not elevator man, so you must be ugh,” Kaija says innocently, and I widen my eyes. I’m going to strangle her.

“Ugh?” Hawk looks down at me and I shake my head.

“Don’t pay her any attention.”

“That was how she described you to us. She said you were ugh, so we knew she thought you were hot as hell and it was annoying her.” Keyra chimes in, sticking out a hand. “I’m Keyra, the resident pregnant sister. The other is Kaija.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I wasn’t expecting to meet family today.” He shakes her hand, and everyone does the rounds. Almost the entire clan is here.

Dane, Harlan, Keyra, Kaija, Dad, Camille, Mom, and Harlan’s little brother Nico and his boyfriend Ethan.

The only ones missing are Harlan’s mom Michelle (she’s visiting friends in Boston), Dane’s daughter Addison, and the other hockey bros.

Jasmine’s blood family isn’t here, but I think we more than enough make up for it.

“You didn’t tell us he has such a charming accent, Mickey.” My mom shakes his hand with a giggle and Dad looks at her with raised brows.

“Alright Sina, I think you’ve held the man’s hand long enough.” We all laugh as she flushes a little and rolls her eyes.

“Oh, here’s your shirt man.” Dane passes Hawk a bright pink shirt with a picture of Jasmine in mid-hurdle on it, and Jazz’s Family on the back of it. We’re all wearing them, and Jasmine acts like she’s embarrassed every time but I know it means a lot to her.

We sit and I ignore the looks my mom is throwing our way.

“Is it proper to take this shirt off and put this one on?” He murmurs to me. “I don’t want your dad to think I’m trying to entice you or something.”

“You’re talking about taking clothes off and you think you won’t be enticing me?” I slide on my shades, smiling.

“I guess it’s now or never.” He unbuttons the white linen and I watch him from the corner of my eye, glad my eyes are partially hidden by the dark lenses. Never let it be said that this man doesn’t cover all his bases.

He’s as hard-bodied as he is persistent.

“You bite your lip any harder and it’s going to come off.” Dane pops a chip into his mouth and speaks low, nudging me with his shoulder. I nudge him back as Hawk pulls on the t-shirt and looks at me as he folds his original shirt.

“All good?” I can’t get enough of the lilt in his deep voice. Makes me want to listen to him all day.

“Great,” I say quietly as the teams set up and the announcers start. We all cheer when they call the roster and say Jasmine’s name.

For the next few hours, we watch high school track and talk a little bit here and there. I learn he’d wanted to play sports, but he had a hard time putting on any real weight or muscle until senior year. I tell him about me doing drama in high school and going through a rebellious phase. I learn that he has an older brother back in Texas who visits him and Leslie regularly.

We don’t talk about Liam.

At one point, he grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers, resting them on his thigh. I stroke his hand with my thumb and wonder if I can just be happy with this feeling. With just him.

I try not to think about the possibility that I can’t.