Page 9

Eight

I toss the last ball to Zev, who bags it up. Another school, another fun day. A particularly interesting day, actually. Thanks to little, brown-bobbed songbird Fran .

She’s funny. And cute. But mostly funny.

And while I’m not looking for a partner—I am happy to be on my own, focusing on the game, I do need something . At least, that’s what Zev and my other teammates keep saying.

It is a little crazy that she happened to be at the school where I came to volunteer. Zev would call it luck, possibly even fate. I’m not sure I believe in that. I can admit that the woman is attractive. And it was interesting seeing her again. But?—

“So,” says a shrill voice. “ You’re the guy who kissed my best friend.”

I pivot to find the second-grade teacher whose classroom I hung out in earlier today. She must be talking about Fran—I mean, she is the only girl I’ve kissed lately.

Which means, no sense in denying the truth. She knows .

I clear my throat. “Yes, I did.”

“And why was that again?” She sets both hands on her hips. “I told her she should have kneed you in the groin. But she’s nicer than me.”

Yikes. Thank goodness.

Her eyes narrow. “And a whole lot crazier.”

Wait. Crazy?

Crap. Did I kiss an actual insane woman? Am I going to start getting freakish fan mail? Tracked at games? Followed home at night? I cough—on my own stupidity. “When you say crazy, you mean funny, right?” The woman was funny. I could see that. But crazy? “How crazy is crazy?”

She puffs out her cheeks and blows a raspberry. Miss Conrad shakes her head at me as if I should already know this answer. But I’m still waiting for her to tell me how much trouble Lucca Cruz has gotten me into.

“Crazy as in she’s adorable, wonderful, the sweetest in all the world. But when it comes to ideas about love, she’s a little cuckoo.”

“Cuckoo?” My brows knit. That doesn’t make me feel any better than crazy. What have I done?

“Yes, cuckoo, and you’ve officially given her a”—her hands raise on either side of her head, and she holds her fingers up in air quotes—“ romcom moment . Do you have any idea what that means?”

Sweat pools at the back of my neck. “I really don’t.” But it sounds serious when she says it like that. It sounds like I’ve gotten myself into a lot of trouble.

Miss Conrad crosses her arms over her chest, still killing me with that very irate glare. “Yeah, well, me neither. None of her stunts have ever panned out before, and then you came along. ”

Have I seriously buried myself in the stupidest way possible?

“Are you saying I need… protection?”

Her brows raise with my question. “That depends, Mr. Serendipity on Second Street. What kind?”

Mr. who? I do not find her funny. “From Fran? Do I need a bodyguard? Is she going to try something?”

Miss Conrad exhales, her chest deflating with the breath. “No. Dummy. You do not need protection. Fran is, in fact, the sweetest.”

My beating heart pauses before returning to its regular rhythm. “Miss Conrad.” I puff out a breath through my nose. She’s got me riled and utterly confused. “I’m not sure what you’re warning me of.”

Clear across the room, Zev hefts the bag of soccer balls over his shoulder, catching my eye. He walks toward us, and my lips clamp shut.

“It’s Rosalie,” she says, just as my friend sidles up next to me. Her eyes slide to Zev for half a second, but she doesn’t care that we’ve got company. “Here’s what I’m saying: if Fran doesn’t knee you, I will . You hurt her, I hurt you. Got it?”

“I have no intention of hurting your friend. Believe me.” I swallow, and while I am six feet three inches with the body of a professional athlete, I have to admit, I’m somewhat afraid at this moment.

“Well, do you have any intention of calling the woman? Of asking her out? Of having an actual conversation with her? Because if not, you’ve already done your damage.”

I flinch, fearing Rosalie’s knee will make contact at any moment. Because the truth is, I never planned to see Fran again. Ever . Until today, I didn’t even know her name. It doesn’t feel like fate, but more like a fluke.

Rosalie glowers at my recoil. “That’s what I thought.” She glances over at Zev, who stands next to me, before pinning me with more daggers. “You’re lucky we aren’t alone,” she says. “And I’m not talking about your friend.”

It’s then that I notice a straight line of second graders staring at us from the far gymnasium wall. She doesn’t care about Zev, but she does care about what her little class may witness.

Rosalie walks over to the straight line of students, says something I can’t make out, then leads them out of the gym. Her friend is nowhere in sight. After that frightening conversation, I half expected her to be lurking in the corner of the room, waiting for me.

“She’s got fire,” Zev says.

“Yeah—look out. She may light you on fire.”

Zev snickers like I’m telling a joke. “So, what was that about?”

I clear my throat and peer around the near-empty gym. “Where are the guys?”

Zev nods toward the exit. “Taking the equipment to the car. Are you going to explain what happened in here?”

Zev is my best friend. He’d do anything for me. He is the fiery Rosalie to my nutty Fran. He’s also not going to let it go. So, I tell him the whole strange story.

“You’re telling me your lucky charm was here? You talked to her?”

A pinch in my neck forms with his question. “Yes, the girl from the bar. She was in my classroom.”

“That’s—”

“Don’t say it.” He’s already called meeting up with Fran again fate in my head. He doesn’t need to do it in actual real life.

“She sat with the kids and asked me a couple of questions when we were in the classroom.”

Zev grunts. “Huh. You must need her, Cal.”

My brow furrows. “Say what?”

“Did you ask her out?” Zev asks.

“No,” I scoff. Has the man lost his mind? I’m not interested in a relationship. I’m taking a break. Possibly a permanent break. Besides, I’m focused on work. He knows that.

“Why not? It’s not like Simone is waiting at home for you.”

Who said anything about Simone?

“She’s moving on, dude. Maybe it’s time you do too.”

“I know that. And I don’t care. I’m not interested in dating anyone. You know that.” Can’t a guy just stand still? I don’t want to go back to Simone, but why does that mean I should be moving on to someone new?

Zev claps a hand on my shoulder. One I am so tempted to brush off. “But she’s your lucky charm. If not for yourself, Callum, do it for the team.”

“The team?” I cough. I love my team. I’d do just about anything for them. But what he’s asking is bogus. It’s ridiculous. What does he expect me to do exactly?

“Yeah. We’ve got the Atlanta Rhinos on Saturday, and if we lose—you know what that means.”

I do. It means we can kiss the Next Gen Cup goodbye. We’ve lost too many as it is. We need multiple wins in a row to even qualify for the tournament.

“What does Fran have to do with any of that? You’re proving my point that I need to train, not seek out this stranger. ”

Zev lowers his brows, his gaze boring into me as if his next words should be obvious. “Lucky. Charm.”

“She isn’t a charm. She’s a she. A person. One I don’t even know. One whose information I don’t have access to.” I lower my voice—but the thought comes out aloud. “One who may need professional help.”

“You need information? Her friend is literally down the hall.”

“So, you missed that woman ready to end me if I even think about speaking to Fran again?”

“That isn’t what she said.”

“Might as well have been.”

“So dramatic.” Zev’s blue eyes roll to the ceiling.

“So superstitious,” I bite back. “You guys believe the most absurd bull?—”

“Except,” Zev says, throwing an arm around my shoulders, “you believe it too. We’re all superstitious. It’s in our blood. And usually for a good reason.”