Page 32 of The Way We Touch
“Yeah,” I laugh, looking up and wondering if Dylan will be inside.
“He’s got a good group of boys this year.” Garrett continues, holding the door as we jog up the back steps. “It’s not always like that.”
“You’re pretty good at giving feedback, even when it’s not so great.”
“I’m just honest. Everybody appreciates a straight shooter, and I try to be fair. The truth is some of these guys just need time.”
He has a point. I’ve seen boys come back after a summer and be a foot taller and totally filled out. What matters is the boys like him, and they respond to his instruction.
“Need anything?” He pauses in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.
The house is empty, and a ribbon of disappointment slips through my chest. “I’m good.”
“In that case, I’m heading up to shower. I’m beat, and I need to see what Zane’s been doing all day.”
I know he’s worried about his brother, who disappears most days when he’s not hanging out in his bedroom.
“I’m turning in, too.” No reason to hang around by myself.
We say our goodnights, and I walk into the guest room. I’m restless, which is incredible after how hard we worked and how hot it was today. I wait to get undressed, thinking I could just happen to venture into the kitchen if I hear anyone rustling around in there.
Anyone like Dylan.
Next thing I know, I’m waking up fully dressed in the dark.
I sit up frowning and go to the door. The house is quiet, and I’m pretty sure I missed Dylan. Opening the door, I glance down the hall lined where dim lights illuminate the floor. I’m thirsty, so I’ll grab a bottle of water before changing clothes and getting a real night’s sleep.
Creeping into the quiet kitchen, I’m about to open the refrigerator when a gasp stops my heart.
“Fuck, who’s there?”
“Logan?” a soft voice whispers.
My chest tightens when I see her sitting on the other side of the bar with a laptop open in front of her. Her long hair is pulled up into a ponytail on the top of her head, and her eyes are wide like I’ve caught her doing something embarrassing.
“Hey.” I can’t help a smile, and with the way she’s acting, I can’t help a tease either. “What are you doing? Watching porn?”
“What?” Her voice goes high, then she looks at the computer and exhales a laugh. “Oh—no. I was…” She clears her throat, closing the computer. “Just watching some old videos.”
I don’t want to invade her privacy, but I am glad to see her. “We missed you at the restaurant tonight.”
“I was helping Jack with Kimmie, getting her bathed and putting her to bed.” She’s dressed in a long-sleeved tee and shorts, and she’s really pretty, nothing like the women I’ve been wasting time with. She’s fresh-faced and so real. “What did I miss?”
“Not much, I imagine. Your buddy Craig is hilarious, and Thomas is a gem.”
“Yes, he is.” She nods, leaning on her arm. “He’s been at the restaurant since I was a little girl. He and my dad played ball together when they were in college.”
“I figured he was older than he looks.”
I take a bottle of water from the refrigerator, leaning against the counter across from her.
“You looked like a natural out there today.” She watches me, a light in her eyes. “The boys really respond to you and Garrett, and I know Jack appreciates the help. He acts hard as a brick wall, but he’s a softie.”
“I had a good time.” My eyes drift to the counter as I think about working with the boys and their excitement. “It reminded me of being that age, just getting started in the game. Falling in love for the first time, how it feels like anything could happen.”
“Very poetic, Mr. Murphy.” She’s playing with me, and my eyes return to her face.
Am I poetic? I never have been before. Yet something about this woman makes me want to say what I’m thinking rather than hide it. Is it her? Is it this place? I can’t seem to curb this drive to understand, as if it’s the key to what’s not working for me.