“Heh . . . tell me about it. Hayden’s great with him, though. Which is a huge help. David and I didn’t get much sleep last night. Georgia kept waking up all night with some weird dream. Too much candy before bed.” Beth dips her head to indicate her daughter, who is already comatose on her lap again. Then she hesitates. “When Hayden mentioned he’d be bringing a girl . . . I gotta say, I didn’t expect you.”
Now she has my attention. Any chance I can get to dig up some dirt on Hayden, I’m game. Especially because I want a point of reference that isn’t Roxy’s. I sit down next to Beth on the bleachers. “What do you mean?”
“Hayden doesn’t usually hang around . . . you know. The kind of women you bring to meet your family.”
Two uncomfortable ideas hit me at once. One of them is: Meeting his family? Is that what this is all about? Am I being evaluated? And the other: Was Roxy right after all? Hayden doesn’t date girls long enough to introduce them to anyone. He doesn’t bother with “nice girls” at all; he aims for the women he can pump and dump. So how long is he going to bother with me, in my frumpy T-shirt and worn tennis shoes and a streak of white sunscreen on my nose?
Beth’s casual comment has unleashed fears I didn’t even know I had. I make a mental note to mend fences with Roxy; she was only trying to look out for me after all.
I’m suddenly aware that I’ve been silent for too long. I lick my dry lips nervously, trying to figure out how to respond to Beth. “Well,” I finally say, “I mean, we’re just friends. I’m not . . .” Not interested, I swear. “I don’t need to be his type.”
“Oh,” Beth says, drawing out the sound into a long note of realization. “I’m sorry. I just assumed you were his date.”
Do I want to be his date? Am I that lonely and horny? What am I even doing here?
Beth interrupts my torrent of thoughts by pointing at the field. “Looks like things are under control now.”
There are almost two dozen little kids scattered over the turf, dressed in either red or blue. Evidently toddler soccer is more popular around here than I would have guessed. I note with relief that Austin is among them.
David and Hayden come back to the bleachers and we settle in to watch the game. But as much as I try to concentrate, I’m too aware of Hayden’s warm, solid body pressed up against my shoulder and thigh. And Beth’s comments about him never bringing nice normal girls around buzz through my head.
? ? ?
The game ends in a one-to-one tie. The players did more shouting, giggling, and rolling on the grass than actual soccer, and the referee called several time-outs for temper tantrums or crying over scraped knees. But the kids seem like they had a good time, which is the whole point of sports anyway. And watching them run around in circles chasing the ball was adorable.
As soon as David suggests going to a local pizzeria to celebrate, Georgia snaps awake. She insistently repeats peese-a, peese-a all the way across the parking lot until we separate into our own cars. And now I’m sitting with Hayden’s extended family again, crammed into a plastic booth in a loud, colorful restaurant.
His younger sister, Gracie, who’s closer to my age, arrives and slips into the booth next to Hayden. Her eyes land on me, and when Beth introduces me as Hayden’s new friend, Gracie’s eyes go as wide as the plates on our table.
“Oh. Um . . . hi?” she says, offering me her hand across the table.
It’s like I’m the main attraction at a freak show. I take her hand and shake it. “Hello.”
I have no idea what to say next. Gracie is gorgeous. Where Beth is put together in a no-nonsense way, with her bobbed haircut and friendly eyes, Gracie exudes an air of feminine beauty and innocence. Wide-set blue eyes and tousled wavy hair that’s chestnut-colored, but with flecks of gold where it catches the light. Her high cheekbones and pouty lips make me envious. Having nothing else to say, I glance back over to Hayden.
I’m watching him bounce his tiny niece on his knee and feed her bites of cheesy bread. And I’m still wondering what the hell I’m doing here. What this all means; what I should do next.
I’m confused all over again, and I have no idea how to feel. Hayden is so sweet with his nephew and niece, so playfully combative with his sisters, so chummy with his brother-in-law—he’s clearly capable of love and affection. So why is he so closed off when it comes to women?
He still hasn’t opened up about his past, no matter how much I prod and poke. Did something specific sour him on romantic relationships? Is he distrustful because he’s scared? What happened to make him this way?
I want to corner Beth and ask her, but something tells me she may be more forthcoming with information if I can get her away from all these distractions—and pump her full of sangria. I make a mental note.
Georgia is an absolute mess, with sauce smeared all over her face and the front of her frilly dress. Hayden is laughing and tickling her. Beth and David are fussing over Austin. Gracie sits quietly, taking it all in with a fond smile.