Page 96 of The Callahan Effect

"That isn't an answer."

His grin widened just enough to tell me he had absolutely no intention of explaining himself.

I folded my arms.

"You know I hate surprises."

He looked entirely unapologetic.

I know.

"You're enjoying this."

A shrug.

"You really aren't going to tell me?"

Jack slipped the phone into his pocket, shook his head, then reached over and squeezed my forearm before heading toward the equipment room.

That was it. No explanation. No clues. Just an invitation and a look that somehow managed to make me even more curious.

Coach appeared beside me a moment later carrying his clipboard.

"What was that about?"

"Dinner."

He frowned.

"Dinner?"

"Apparently we're both expected at your place at seven."

"He didn't tell you why?"

I shook my head.

"Not a word."

Coach chuckled.

"He's stubborn."

"I've noticed."

"He gets that from me."

"I was going to say exactly the same thing."

Coach laughed as we walked toward the locker room.

"Well, whatever he's planning, we'd better not be late."

"I don't think it's optional."

"It probably isn't."

The rest of the afternoon crawled by with agonizing slowness.