Chapter Eight
One week later, sweat rolled down Kassidy’s cheek, and she held on tightly, putting every ounce of strength she had into thrusting her body forward. Her heart pounded fast, echoing in her ears, and she let out a groan as she pushed even harder, straining every muscle to get closer to her goal. Nothing happened.
“Son of a bitch,” she snarled, kicking the hutch.
Howling, she clutched her toes and hopped in circles, shooting death glares at the offending piece of furniture the whole time. This morning, she’d woken up and decided her living room was boring and had the bright idea to change things up. Changing things up had gotten her a hutch that was stuck on a loose plank in the floor, and a throbbing toe.
Still, she didn’t regret her choice.
Changing things up was a necessity in her new life.
Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, still clutching her toe. Ever since Wyatt had stormed into her life and spent the night with her without sex, she’d been a different woman. She’d held true to her promise that she’d be better. Take chances.
A visit to the hairdresser had given her that strawberry blond she’d always wanted in her hair, and she’d mastered that spin class she’d been eyeing up for months. Yoga was now a favorite of hers at her gym, and on a whim, she’d even done some Zumba. Last night, when a friend she hadn’t seen in three months invited her to dinner last minute, she’d said yes.
These things might be small, and to some they might even seem silly, but they were changes. And change was just what the doctor ordered.
Smiling, she remembered what his note had said.
Kass,
Tonight was incredible, and I’m glad I could help, in any small way, in your journey to shake things up. Make sure you take those chances. You deserve everything good in your life. You deserve to be happy. Never forget that—and I’ll never forget my promise to you.
Wyatt
Well, she’d been doing her best to follow through with that, and she’d been doing a good job…up until the stupid hutch got stuck on the floorboard, anyway. Oh well. Guess it would stay there until she could con her brother into coming over and helping her. Not a huge deal. No big changes ever came easily, right? Opening her eyes, she pushed off the wall and headed to her phone. As she picked it up, she saw a notification from ESPN on the screen.
The name in the title made her breath catch in her throat.
The Savior’s Wyatt Hamilton says he’ll play this Sunday, despite recent injury and rumors that Coach Jeffries would have him sit out until playoffs.
Swiping over the notification, she skimmed the article, smiling when he was quoted to say, “I’d hate to mess up anyone’s running bets, so if you’re counting on me not playing this weekend, you’d better cancel those bets before it’s too late. I’ll be there, and my arm will be as strong as ever.”
Chuckling, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was a subtle hello to her.
Heck, she chose to believe it was, because she could. Even if it wasn’t, she’d never find out, because it’s not like he was calling her anytime soon to set the matter straight.
And she was fine with that. With never finding out if he was thinking about her, or if he remembered her as fondly as she did him.
Closing out the app, she opened up her texts with Caleb and fired one off: I need help.
What did you do now?
She typed back immediately, checking the time. I was rearranging my living room, and the hutch got jammed on a floorboard. I can’t move it, no matter how hard I push.
Ugh. Fine. I’ll be by in two hours. Followed by: But you’ll owe me pizza and beer.
She bit her lip. I can’t do two hours from now.
Why not?
Should she tell him the truth? I have a date.
WITH WHO?
No one you would know.
Heck, she’d never even met the dude. She’d matched with him on eHarmony. All she knew was he was twenty-seven, an accountant like her, and he wore a suit well, if his profile pic was to be believed. She’d never gone a date with a stranger before, especially not someone she met on the internet, but it was all part of her change.
What’s his name? How’d you meet? What does he do for a living?
Rolling her eyes, she started to type back a reply telling him it was none of his frigging business, but then her doorbell rang. Frowning, she set the phone down and made her way to the door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and her friends weren’t really the “stop by unannounced” type, so she couldn’t imagine who might be here.
Unless…
It was Caleb.
If he’d zoomed over here from his place down the street simply because she’d mentioned having a date later, he’d taken the overbearing brother role to a whole new level. Pushing her glasses into place, she swung the door open, expecting to see her annoying brother standing there…and instead got the surprise of her life.
Wyatt Hamilton.
On her doorstep.
Not speaking, she tried to figure it out. Why was he here? What did he want? Had he forgotten something? Was he lost? In danger? Escaping paparazzi? She craned her neck, glancing behind him, but there were no cameras and no signs of danger chasing him.
When she remained silent, he lifted a hand, smiling that same devastatingly charming smile that had haunted her in her dreams and her bed for the past three nights. “Hey, Kass.”
“Uh…” She desperately smoothed her horribly messy hair. It was useless. She hadn’t been expecting company, and it showed. God, it showed. “Hi?”
That smile that widened. “Is that a question?”
“Um, yes?” She laughed a little. “Not to be rude, but what are you doing here? Did you forget something? I mean, I didn’t see anything, but you’re free to check—”
“I didn’t forget anything,” he said, studying her with a slight frown. “But you told me if I ever wanted someone to hang out with, to spend time with…”
“Oh. Oh. Right.”
Holy crap, he was actually taking her up on that offer?
He hesitated. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Huh? No.” She pursed her lips. “Why?”
He rubbed his hard jaw. He had a bit of a five o’clock shadow going, and his dark blond hair was sticking up like he’d been running his fingers through it. He wore a Saviors T-shirt that hugged his biceps and chest, a pair of black sweats that hugged other things, aviator sunglasses, and a pair of Nikes. Sweats had never been so sexy before. “You’re all sweaty. Is someone here with you? I can go…”
“Oh. That.” She glanced at herself. She, too, was wearing sweats, but not nearly so sexily. Sexy? Sexy-ish? What the heck was the word? Oh, who cared anyway? Wyatt Hamilton was here, on her doorstep, with hungry eyes. “No. I’m all alone. What about you? Are you alone?”
What a stupid question.
She could see he was alone.
Good one. Way to charm him.
“Yeah, I’m alone.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just left practice. I was driving home, and realized how close I was to you, so I figured I’d stop by and see how you were doing on that promise you made me.”
Funny, he hadn’t mentioned he’d be stopping by in his letter to her. Actually, that letter had seemed like a pretty solid good-bye to her. “Oh, well, I…uh…” She laughed nervously. “I’m good.”
“Good,” he said, shifting his weight to his left foot.
“How are you?” she added hastily.
“Good. Good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Just the usual. Sleep. Protein. Practice. You know.”
She nodded, even though she didn’t. “Yeah. Sure.”
They both fell silent.
After a while, he cleared his throat.
The awkwardness between them was tangible enough to bottle and sell. “Did you, uh, have a good practice?”
“Yeah, it was a tough one, but we needed that to be ready for the Giants. We had double practice time all week long.”
“Ugh,” she muttered. Last time the teams had played one another, the Saviors had lost by fifteen points. “You’re playing, right?”
“Yeah.” He rotated his shoulder. He’d injured it a few weeks ago when DeMarquez had taken him down too hard. “I’m fine. They worry too much.”
“You seemed fine last week,” she said under her breath, heat flushing through her as she remembered all the ways he’d lifted, twisted, and turned during yoga.
He laughed. “Better than fine, even.”
“Well…” They locked eyes. “I’d hope so.”
“Have you been keeping your promises?” He rocked back on his heels again. “Living life to its fullest, and taking chances?”
“I have.” She gestured down at herself. “Hence the sweatiness.”
“What were you doing?” he asked curiously.
She rested her shoulder on the doorjamb. “I decided to change the layout of my living room for the first time since moving in here.”
“Wow. Crazy,” he said wryly. “We might need to talk about toning it back a little bit. You’re taking this whole living life to its fullest thing a little too far.”
She smacked his arm playfully. “Hey, considering I measured each piece and placed it perfectly in position five years ago, it is crazy. For me, anyway.”
“I’m kidding.” He gave her a half smile. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen before. “Can I see it?”
“What?” She glanced over her shoulder. “My living room?”
“Yeah.”
She bit her lip. “Why would you want to see my rearranged living room?”
“Why not? I can think of worse ways for a guy like me to spend my afternoon.” He laughed uneasily and dragged a hand through his hair. “In case you couldn’t tell by my awkwardness earlier, I don’t know what I’m doing here, or why I’m here, but I am because I couldn’t keep driving. That might be bad, or it might be good, but whatever the hell it is, I want to see you, so I’m here. Seeing you. Because I missed you, Kass. And I never miss anyone.”
He missed her. She held her breath, a million things racing through her mind, but she couldn’t catch a single one. The thoughts were too fast. Too fleeting. Too… “In that case, would you like to come in and see my messy living room?”
He laughed. Short. Hard. “Yes, I’d like to see your living room.”
“Then, please, come inside.”
She stepped back, and he brushed past her, a whiff of cologne and sunshine teasing her senses. His smell was somehow familiar and comforting, even though she’d only smelled it one other time. Of course, that had been the best night of her life, so maybe that made sense. Maybe that’s why smelling him made her let out a sigh of relief that she’d been holding in for three days.
It certainly wasn’t relief that he’d come back to her.
This meant nothing. They meant nothing.
And she’d best remember that.