Page 52 of The Curveball
Her people. My mom’s way of saying her family. I swallow the scratch in my throat. I don’t know her family situation more than I don’t like the way she went twitchy talking about her dad. Her mom? I’m in the dark. Are her parents together? Does she have a thousand siblings? I don’t know if she’ll want them around my family or not.
To include her family will complicate things, but I wouldn’t mind if Wren had the same gusto about this plan to spend time with each other at all. Since our date last night, my pulse hasn’t stopped pounding with the anticipation of seeing her, of talking with her.
A bit of possessiveness for Wren Fox is blurring my common sense. If anyone is going to get tangled in this game at the end, it’s going to be me. Wren is doing it because she feels obligated to convince her dad for some reason. We could’ve fixed the lie with Marti, but doubtless my pushiness backed her into a corner.
None of those reasons are solid ways to begin a relationship.
But here I am like a drooling idiot ready to take advantage of whatever time I get with the woman.
The truth snuck up behind me and put me in a chokehold. I want Wren. Her snarky remarks, her eye rolls, her pseudo-defiance to anything to do with me. I want her sweetness. The scent of her honeysuckle hair. The way she smiles like she has a sultry secret to share. I want every piece of her, and I think I have for a long time.
It’s definitely a drag to like someone when they don’t like you back. I’m not a fan.
My mom smacks me on the back of my head. “Hello! Did you hear me?”
“Invite her people, I heard you.”
After asking her three times if she had any other repairs, my mom practically shoves me outside, thanking me, but not missing the opportunity to tell me to get a life.
Nice.
Twenty minutes later, I pull up to my house, but I’m not alone.
Halfway up the driveway, two guys block my way. They’re both tall, look like they know how to lift weights without trouble, and their faces are identical. The only difference is one guy has semi-long hair, tied back off his neck, and dresses like a club bouncer in his tight black T-shirt. The other guy has grease stains all over his fingers, and his tattered T-shirt has an image of Tire Heaven’s logo on the front.
Okay.
I crack my neck side to side. I’ve dealt with rogue fans who have found my house before. Most times they’re pretty harmless. Usually they simply want an autograph on something, a picture, then they’re out. I’m not as cautious as I could be. I have a security system, but no gate or anything.
With Wren here, maybe I ought to consider one.
I put the car in park and slowly step out, leaning over the top of my open door. “Hey, guys. Can I help you with something?”
“Marks.”
He’s not asking like a fan. He’s asking like he might break my jaw any second. Could be about the loss. I was the one who ended the season for the Kings, and there are some diehard fans who might want me to know their disappointment.
What I need to do is be ready to get these scum bags out of here before Wren notices. A sinking feeling grows in my gut knowing they’ve been out here, and she’s been inside. Alone.
No way are they coming within ten feet of her.
“Guys, I’m going to ask you once to get off my property.”
“Hey, we’re not going anywhere,” Black T-shirt says. “Not until you give us some answers.”
My forehead wrinkles. “Answers about what?”
The guy with the tire shirt holds up his phone.
From the distance between us it looks like a social media post, but I’m not positive. He’s standing too far away, but he’s clearly seething. “We want to know what this means. What did you do to our sister?”
CHAPTER17
GRIFFIN
I rollWren’s note between my fingers, still smiling at the writer in her. She knows how to paint a picture even in a quick farewell note. I have a perfect scene in my head based on how she described her aunt murdering her, and her somber, sincere gratitude for all I’d done to help.
She’s funny and doesn’t realize it.