Page 15

Wild

"Nervous?" Richard asks.

It's just me and Evie. My erratic heart doesn't listen. I tip my head back and take deep breaths. As a veteran, there is no way I'm nervous about a charity game. It had to be the prospect of returning to this city and playing before the fans again making my heart race.

They will do it not because they owe you but because it ’ s the right thing to do and humans sometimes need to be reminded to be good. Because we ’ re imperfect.

"You don't have to worry about Evie." She has a steely core. I'm confident she will rise to any occasion our fake engagement calls for.

But it's not my first time going out with Evie. There are dinners Charlie had me fill in for him. Or when she traveled to whatever city I was playing at to catch my game. This feeling, like the ground is shaking under my feet, is unfamiliar.

Discussing my fears with Evie is one thing. I can ’ t reopen the wounds with Richard. I have the instructions in text.

"I'm not worried about Evie," Richard says. "We haven't talked about you coming back here, interacting with the fans."

Tell the club to release a strong statement saying they will stand by you, and they are against any kind of fan violence.

I hit send.

Wordlessly, I point at his phone.

Eyebrows raised in question, Richard reads the text.

His eyes narrow. Probably at the insult of being reminded what to do.

“ I know you got it covered—”

"I already have the contracts drawn, but I can make twenty-five drafts if necessary."

"Twenty-five!"

“ I work for you,” he reminds me. A long, stifling pause follows. "You can still change your mind.”

We plan to release an official statement after the appearance tonight. I think of Evie's bravery in the face of Mrs. Langford's interrogation. I think of what she's holding back. I picture Dad hurrying to get my shirts whenever I change teams and Mom needing me close to home.

The thing with running is that you'll eventually run out of steam.

"No chance."

I don't get the 'run for your life' niggle. We're good.

The car stops.

“ Wilder?” Richard calls.

“ Yeah?”

“ Just remember Evie is too good for you.”

“ What are you talking about?”

Richard shrugs and disappears into his phone.

Mrs. Izaacs comes out from her house, and I give her a wave. There's a bounce to my step as I head for Evie's front door. I take the stairs in one leap and knock. As I wait, I look around the house. The porch railing could use some paint.

The door opens, and Evie steps out, magnificent shoes encasing show-stopping legs first. My heart skips a beat like a scratchy CD player.

White is a color made for Evie. She's beautiful. I've had teammates comment on her looks when I post the occasional picture of us on social media.

I've always known she's beautiful.

But I never knew she was beautiful . I can't explain the difference, but there's a difference. It leaves me tongue-tied and my head empty of intelligent thought.

"Wild," she grumbles.

My exhale relieves the tightness in my chest. I smile down at her disgruntled face. "You want to pretend you don't like being a walking fashion couture?"

"Please." She touches her ears and her earrings. My ring catches the porch light, and my stomach takes a weird dip.

"I'm wondering if this is a bad idea."

"Bad idea," I repeat. Anger replaces the weirdness in my stomach. "I made a suggestion, and you ran with it. Even embellished it, and you're already having second thoughts?"

"I'm sorry." She moans. "I'm just...six months at the most, right? Then I can return to my grandsons.”

"Hey!" I call as she drops her key in my hand to sashay past me. Her key is a considerable weight on my palm. It's her way of letting me know she trusts me, especially with this significant change in our relationship.

Perhaps I should see a doctor because my heart is doing that weird dance again.

I lock up and cross the short distance to where she waits for me.

"You should have waited in the car," I scold.

"We don't have a story yet." She gives me a sideways glance.

Ah. A story. Evie is looking at me expectantly. My mind races for answers and comes up with nothing. "Cavorting," I blurt.

The word hangs like a bad word dripping with red paint. I should stop talking. "You know, what you said when Mrs. Langford said—"

"Cavorting," she finishes. Her eyes go dark. "I think you're fond of that word."

I adjust my tie. "Not exactly."

She bites her lip. "Not enough cavorting in Sanderson's books, I guess."

I don't hold back the laugh that tears out of me. "No, not in the books you gave me. I should read it to you sometime. The latest series is so good. So much buildup."

But she's already shaking her head, causing the curls around her face to move. "You can keep your fancy names and world-building. I love reality. And reality says we need a story ready for when people ask questions."

"We can just laugh it off," I say.

"It's important for when we break up."

"Just say you're looking forward to your grandsons."

Something about how she talks about our eventual breakup sends a frisson of annoyance through me. But I didn't expect her to accept my proposal, let alone stand at my side wearing the dress we bought together under the gentle caress of the night.

It drags my mind to another time. In Charity. Evie's shy excitement. The new dress—the last one she let me buy her as a gift, the letter I still have tucked in the corner of my wallet, and flowers. When I got her message, I was with Charlie.

"She's going to make you taste some awful concoction she made." He shuddered. "If she doesn't stop hanging out with the cook, I might have to make the drastic move of dropping a word with Mrs. Langford."

The food Evie cooked was awful, bordering on poisonous. "If you do that, I'm going to punch you," I had said softly and with deadly seriousness, so he would know I meant it.

Charlie had studied me for the longest time. "Think you can beat me in a fight?”

"I have three other brothers. And Ro."

He shook his head, breaking the tension. "You think I don't know why she's always hanging with Mrs. Rose and us?”

Evie had a painful crush on me. Some days, when I came to hang out with Charlie, she would disappear and rejoin us with a face full of makeup. Then, I would have to kick Charlie's feet to stop him from saying a word and embarrassing her. Growing up with Sisi and Ro was an education.

These days, she wants her own space. I miss her and her appreciation for the smallest things, but I understand. It started as a joke when she was eight. But then, at eighteen, it gave me this awed, unworthy feeling. It reminded me of Mom and her trust in me to do the right thing. I wanted to be worthy of it.

And I didn ’ t want to hurt her.

Instead of hanging out with me and her brother, she spent most of her time with the cook. Sarah and her clique were, of course, out of the question.

"Fine." Charlie threw away the video game console. "I will eat whatever she gives me, but it's your turn today.”

Armed with a bottle of soft drink, I drove confidently to where she wanted to meet--my favorite spot. It was a meadow behind an abandoned vacation home a short drive from the Langford property.

Did she walk down here? She could have just called me into the kitchen, I had thought.

I was holding a bouquet she must have waded through weeds to pick herself when I realized what was happening. Idiot. Then, the letter. The letter cracked my heart open. Kind, sweet, generous. Is that how she saw me?

Rooted in place, I was staring like a fool when she moved in for a kiss. She lost her nerve at the last second, and her face landed in the middle of my chest. My hand instinctively went to her hair. It was so soft. I dropped my hand like her hair was on fire.

Her whole body was trembling, and her courage humbled me.

I wanted to hug her, but I had known her since she was eight. A flash of all the versions of Evie I'd been honored to meet passed through my mind at dizzying speed. She was too good for me.

I stepped back, and she stumbled forward.

"If you have to count, we're in trouble," present-day Evie says with a nod at my fingers. "It's not that difficult. Everyone already knows about my crush. Eww." She laughs at the memory.

It's not funny. "We will tell them I realized I loved you, and we started flirting.”

“How?”

“How?”

She nods. “If they ask for details.”

“Then we tell them we cavorted.”

"Stay on track," she orders.

"Yes, ma’am."

“So, we decided to keep it a secret," she continues.

"And our feelings grew." I latch on to the pass.

"You were so sweet to me."

"I've always been sweet to you." I return the ball. It's a bad pass.

She frowns, unsure what to do with the ball. "You became sweeter? I'm the reason why you're signing for the North Cats?"

I nod in approval and launch the game-winning shot. "And that's why I'm retiring here. To be with you permanently. And that should get Mrs. Langford off your back."

"How long have we been dating and flirting?" she asks.

"A year?" I check my watch. "They won't know the difference since we're already so close."

We are running late. I start leading us to the car, and an undoubtedly impatient Richard. But she stops me, fingering her hair as her eyes drop to my chest. "PDA." She mumbles.

"PDA?"

"You know, like—"

"I know what it means. It won't come to that."

"What if it does?"

"It won't."

Evie is not impressed. "You better dig your head out of Mr. Sanderson's world. Not everything in life happens with a buildup."

"We can hug and—"

"Hold pinkies?"

"Hands," I say.

She nods. "That's good. Hopefully, we won't have to do more than that.

"We won't," I assure her.

She nods again. "I believe you. I mean, since you've time traveled to the future and back and know exactly how everything will happen and what will happen. I would be stupid to doubt you."

◆◆◆

It is a good night to be out and about. I feel Evie's gaze soft on me. I give her a reassuring smile and go out first. As I help her out, a buzz tears through the crowd.

Lila has gone all out with the organization.

Evie steps out, her hand clutching mine tightly, but outwardly, she's beautiful and composed.

I find Lila with my eyes where she's stuck in her corner doing Lila things. She nods, and I'm relieved. It means every player and coach I invited made it. We walk the short red carpet, and Evie shines under the bright lights. Me? I can't wait to get out of my suit and onto the court where I belong.

After we've taken enough pictures together, I start to step back. Evie's innate grace and elegance, all she is, and all that training she got from Mrs. Langford needs its own moment. But she grabs my hands. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I have a game in like twenty minutes. And you need to take more pictures alone."I'mlooking down at her and marveling at her ability to talk with a perfect smile.

At the call of a photographer, she strikes a pose and tilts her head back. "Me? Why?"

I shrug. "You look amazing."

And then it's time to mingle. And introduce my fake fiancée. I start with the most manageable group—ex-teammates and friends. Their reactions are almost insulting. The news spreads fast.

"Hey, did you hear Wildman's engaged?"

And pointed jokes from the teammates who recognize Evie from the gala.

"No wonder he went all caveman that night."

"Congratulations."

The congratulations come from Coach Billy and end on a high note, like a question—a question he doesn't want to be answered, given his close-lipped smile.

"I remember you from draft year."Evie's smile is warm.

Coach Billy offers a grudging and doubtful, "I don't think so."

"Your hair wasn't so white, and you were smiling a lot more,"Evie continues softly. "I was eleven."

I swear I hear the sound of Coach Billy's resistance breaking. He gives Evie his full attention. "I think I remember you. Are you that tiny thing that came with your brother? You sat with his family?"

"Yes!"Evie agrees with a laugh. "It's good to see you again, Sir."

They shake hands. At six foot five, I tower over them both, but I might as well not exist for all the attention they paid me. With one ear on their conversation, I scan the room: laughter, champagne, discreet donations.

Evie excuses herself to stop by the restroom. I feel her absence at once. I watch her leave and look forward to getting her back.

"You're engaged,"Coach Billy says. He’s the only person I know who can get away with wearing a tracksuit and ball cap to such an occasion.

My mind is still on Evie as I spread my hands to show off the ring she helped me pick out. "You just met my wife-to-be. Yes."

"Hmmm."

"Don't bother trying your scare tactics on her. She's too sweet to dislike."

He's quiet for a moment. "That means you're done jumping around?"

Yes! In my head, I pump my fists. On the outside, I replace my flute glass as a waiter passes by. "Evie likes this city so much I wouldn't dare take her out of it."

He grunts.

I mingle my way to Kristyn and Charlie. My best friend and I need to talk. His opinion about the fake engagement is in the ferocity of his scowl. Evie starts making her way to us. The wives and girlfriends of ex-teammates and friends stop her to introduce themselves and welcome her to the fold.

She's courteous, kind, and attentive. Looking at her, no one in this room would believe she endured a difficult childhood. I'm so proud of her; my chest puffs up with it. As I turn to grab a drink for Evie, I catch Charlie glaring harder than the sun in the height of summer.

When Evie reaches us, Charlie's scowl is like a boundary between two warring countries. There are two sides: Charlie and me.

Evie pulls up short when she reaches our force field and the negative aura Charlie's putting out.

I scowl back at him. He's making his sister and wife uncomfortable. We're going to have a talk, but not here. Not liking how his actions box Evie into a corner, I leave.

I'm turning away when Evie appears at my side. Shocked and pleased, I can't help looking behind me to see how Charlie's doing with this. He's not happy. Evie is probably unaware of what she just did, but she chose me.

In front of her brother, best friend, everyone, and God.

And why am I so happy about it?