Page 10 of First Down Promise

I look up at Pete as I rub Blue’s velvety ears. “You need a dog.”

Pete chuckles under his breath. “Maybe a cat or fish. Something low maintenance. And less drooly.”

I roll my eyes and shift them to Coop. “We had a Basset Hound when we were kids. He was really cool.” Blue’s jowls release a string of slobber that lands on my lap on the delicate fabric. “Oh no, Blue!”

“I’ll get you a towel,” Coop says and turns toward the kitchen.

“Hey!” Josh’s voice booms from behind me yet again today. Heat rushes to my face because, no matter what I do, he always finds me in some embarrassing state. This time—covered in dog drool.

Coop hands Josh the towel, and he crouches down next to me. His knee brushes against mine as he hands me it. “Thanks,” I say, actively trying to avoid looking at him, even as I stay hyperaware of the small point of contact.

“No problem. How’s Bluey?” he says to the dog while I clean myself up.

Coop turns to the back door. “I’d better check the ribs.”

“I should probably get a look at those bad boys,” Pete adds, patting Coop on the back.

“You were weird earlier, you know,” Josh says when the door closes behind them.

I twist to face him. “What?”

“You couldn’t say hi?”

“I said hi, Josh.”

“It’s not like you to act like someone hardly exists,” Josh replies, scrubbing Blue’s ears like I did.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you, remember? Not at the training facility or at games. They must have security outside.” I sound defensive, but the stakes are lower for him. “And it’s not like we talk a ton, anyway.”

He frowns slightly. “We do, Abby.”

“Josh, you’ve gotta see these fuckin’ ribs. They’re going to be lit,” Pete’s voice echoes as he opens the back door.

Josh stands, and my knee notices the second his leaves mine. “Nothing beats Texas barbecue,” he says.

“Oh, fuck off with that. Coop knows what he’s doing,” Pete chirps. I stand too, smoothing out the skirt of my dress, and join them in Coop’s kitchen.

“No Dane?” Josh asks, reaching into a cabinet for a cup.

“No, that princess had to go to LA,” Pete jokes.

Josh chuckles as he fills the cup with water from the refrigerator’s dispenser. “I’m so telling Dane you said that.”

“He won’t act on it. He’ll file it away to use against you at an inconvenient time,” Coop adds.

“Fair,” Pete replies.

“Abby, want a drink?” Coop asks.

“Sure. What do you have?”

Coop opens the refrigerator door and pulls out a pack of strawberry daiquiri wine coolers. “I saw these and remembered you drinking them over the summer,” Coop says.

“That’s thoughtful. I better have one then!” Coop grins widely, pops the lid off, and hands it over. “Thanks. Pete’s driving anyway,” I say and wink at Pete.

“I wouldn’t trust you to drive my car anyway, Abigail,” he snaps.

“Oh, whatever. Your car is atrocious,” I spew at him and take a sip from the glass bottle. The sweet, strawberry-flavored drink coats my tongue, but these are so low in alcohol they don’t have much of a punch.