Page 38 of First Down Promise

Abby gasps. “Are you trying to get him killed via Alabama roots?”

“Anything to hear her call him Cooper Bradford Carter,” I joke.

“Did you cringe when I called you Joshua Beau?” she asks.

“Immensely, Jesus Christ.”

I put my hand on the small of her back and lean in. She must have just put more lip balm on, as her lips have an extra slip to them now. It tastes like frosting and brings me back to her twenty-second birthday, when her brother, who shall remain unnamed, booked out an entire restaurant for the night and invited everyone he knew. Abby only really knew Coop, Dane, and me, but she still lit up like the Fourth of July when he got her a confetti cake with strawberry filling.

Then there was her twenty-first. He took her to Vegas, and after his drunken confession recently about bedding her childhood best friend, I’m not surprised the group was small for that one. Looking back, I’m glad I sat it out. Vegas probably wasn’t the best place to start noticing my best friend’s little sister wasn’t so little anymore.

“So, which boat is ours?” Abby asks.

“This one on the end.”

I step onto its platform, and the boat bobs beneath me, creating ripples in the smooth water. I rented a twenty-three-foot pontoon, which is overkill for the two of us, but it’s comfortable. I’m at the point in my life and career where paying extra for comfort is worth every penny. I hold out my hand, and she takes it as I ease her onto the boat. She steps past me to set her bag on the leather booth under the canopy, while I take the seat behind the wheel and unbutton a few buttons on my loose cotton shirt.

“Ready?” I ask, and she nods.

“Did your dad let you drive the boat?” she asks, kicking off her flats and tucking her heels onto the seat beneath her.

“He’d let me steer at least.”

The engine whirs to life as I turn the key, and I steer out of the marina. I’m not exactly sure where to go, but Abby takes pictures with her phone as we head out into the water.

“Very candid, Mackenzie,” she teases, pointing the phone at me.

Mackenzie. I’m used to Kenzie coming from her brother, but I think I like hers better.

“Beats the fuck out of running drills,” I reply.

The lake is virtually empty this late on a weekday morning, so I stop once we’re in the middle to join Abby on the booth. A light breeze blows off the lake and under the canopy, and I couldn’t have picked a better day for this.

I get up from the captain’s seat, turn my baseball hat around backwards, and waste no time breaking the touch barrier by sitting right next to her. She rests her head against my shoulder. The pressure makes me wince a little, following a hit I took during practice yesterday, but I wouldn’t move her for anything. I drape my arm around her shoulders, and she toys with my fingers.

“When’d you know?” she murmurs.

“Know what?”

“About me.”

“It might have always been there, but you were right. I was denying it,” I answer. She covers her face with her hand as her whole body cringes.

She splits her fingers without moving her hand, so she can look me in the eye. “You remember that?”

“I wasn’t that drunk, Abs. You were right to call me out that night, but hurling the Jimmy Choos your brother got you was a little dramatic,” I tease.

“You have no idea how dramatic I can be.” She moves her hand and taps me on the nose. “You were being a butthead.”

“No, that’s Dane.”

Abby giggles. “Honestly, yeah. And Pete. Coop’s the only one who doesn’t act like an asshat.”

“Fair. He’s a pretty chill guy.”

Abby sighs. “How are we going to make this work? Sneak around for two months? Or four if you guys make playoffs?” she asks.

It gives us time to figure out how real this could be, and based on how well she tucks into my side, it could be the start of something life-changing. Something good for once.