Page 70 of The Love We Make

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Page 70 of The Love We Make

“Yeah, he is a good friend of mine.”

“That guy’s slider makes me glad I play football.”

I tried not to laugh. I swear I did. But Ethan’s slider was the nail in Aaron’s All-star game coffin and Cam mentioning it with such reverence right in front of Aaron was well…. It was funny.

“Ha. Ha,” Aaron said dryly. My giggle didn’t escape him and the only one left in the dark was Cam. He didn’t seem to care, though.

“Who else we have on the team?” Cam asked. “My sister probably stuck me with the rejects.”

“She did,” I joked. “Aaron is also on the team.”

Cam laughed and grabbed his stomach. Aaron just smirked and nudged me playfully. I was glad he was being easy about this. I was glad he seemed to be able to play around. And other than the long-ass hug, he seemed harmless enough.

“Who else?” Cam asked. “Let’s track them down and get started.”

“Um,” I brought my list up, “P. Owens?” The look of confusion told them I didn’t know who I was talking about. But luckily, they knew exactly who that was.

“Preston!” Aaron shouted and waved across the room. Then he looked at me. “Preston Owens is my teammate and flew in with me.”

I nodded and felt relief again. Tracking these guys down was easy when they came to me.

Preston approached our group and we did introductions. I had heard of Preston before but didn’t know enough about him to even know what position he played. He seemed nice, though.

“And last?” Cam asked.

“T. Black,” I read and looked up to him. “You know him?”

Cam was nodding and looked concerned, “I do. Tyson Black. He is my teammate. He will probably also be the reason we lose.”

I looked around, hoping someone named Tyson Black would just pop into thin air. Cam looked around too. And to his credit, he actually knew who he was looking for.

“There he is,” Cam said before calling him to us.

I looked in the direction Cam was looking and waited for my team to be complete. But as I looked on, Aaron got closer. I felt his presence directly into my side, pressing me with his hip. The kind of move your crush in middle school would do in the lunch line.

Lame.

I got distracted but tried to sidestep him a little, hoping he got the hint. But instead, he reached his hand out to me and put it to the small of my back.

I looked up, trying to think of something I could pretend to need to do in order to leave for a bit. But when my eyes lifted, the figure coming toward me grabbed my attention. And suddenly, I forgot Aaron even existed.

Tyson Black.

Ty.

Holy shit.

His eyes locked onto mine and recognition flashed across his face. He looked bigger than I remembered.

Tougher.

Meaner.

He had tattoos down both arms and peaking from above the collar of his shirt. A polo golf shirt looked out of place on his huge body. But somehow, he looked striking at the same time. Even in khaki pants.

His hair was shaved on the side and longer on the top. His eyes were almost grey against his tan complexion. He looked like he could share a laugh with friends or beat someone’s ass—either/or. But he did not look like he could golf.

He had stopped walking at the same time he recognized me. But in a flash, his eyes shot to Aaron’s hand on my back and he righted himself, continuing toward us.




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