Loving Him Off the Field(86)

“Hi!” She grinned. “I’m Mellie.”

“Uh, hi.” She blinked, then realized she was looking at one of Coach Jordan’s daughters, though she wasn’t sure which one. She carried more of her father’s darker features, and was cute as a button.

Cassie leaned forward from the driver seat. “Sorry, when I made plans with you I forgotten I’d already told them we’d hang out. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Not if they don’t mind me bitching about men,” she grumbled, then her eyes widened. “Complain. Complain about men. Sorry.”

Another head leaned forward form the backseat. This one an icy-cool blonde with mature eyes. “We’re teenagers, not toddlers. We can say curse words, too.”

Cassie sighed. “Aileen, meet my other sister, Irene. She’s gifting us with her presence. Make sure you’re suitably grateful.”

Irene rolled her eyes and stepped out of the car. Aileen moved back to give Mellie room to exit, and then together they rounded the car. Cassie already had a blanket laid out on the concrete floor.

“We could have gone to the mall,” Irene said, her voice indicating she was very much put out by this outing, “but Cassie wanted privacy and a place to talk.” She glanced at Aileen’s outfit of worn jeans, hoodie, and Converse. “You could have come, too.”

Aileen had the distinct feeling she’d been mentally labeled a fashion victim by a seventeen year old.

“I like talking.” Mellie sat down, cross-legged, uncaring that her plaid skirt raised up to the point of seeing her boy shorts below. Irene sat in a more ladylike position, her own matching plaid skirt draped carefully over her thighs. Clearly, they were wearing school uniforms. Cassie plopped down easily, her jeans and dark blue Bobcats polo making any position possible. She patted the blanket beside her.

“Sit. I brought goodies and drinks.”

“Any wine?” Irene asked, looking through the basket in the center of the blanket.

Cassie shot Aileen an amused look. “Darn, forgot the wine. Silly me.”

Irene raised a brow to indicate she caught the sarcasm, then pulled out waters and handed them to Mellie, Cassie, and Aileen before getting her own. Then she pulled a tin of cookies and a few other boxes of goodies out and set them in a neat little row like the young hostess she was.

“Wow, impressive. A picnic, and a great view. How’d you know about this parking garage?” Aileen asked Cassie as she picked up a napkin and a brownie.

“Trey brought me here. It has a good view of downtown, so he showed me the different areas from a birds-eye view.” Her gaze went a little soft and she stared at the threads of the blanket, as if lost in thought.

“Did you guys make out up here?” Irene asked, looking much more interested in the current topic than any before. Mellie started to speak, but Irene elbowed her sister and muttered a, “Shh,” before asking again, “Did you?”

“Uh, we might have kissed,” Cassie admitted, her face flushing. “But really, the view . . .” She waved a hand out toward the railing and the city beyond.

Uh-huh. Aileen hid her grin with a bite of brownie.

“How’s the story with Killian going?” Cassie asked a moment later.

“Killian Reeves, the kicker?” Irene sat up straight and gave Aileen her full focus. “Number seven, leading the conference in yards, super-quiet Killian Reeves?”

“That’s the one.” She was her father’s daughter, that much was certain. “And as far as the story . . . it’s a non-thing.” She swallowed another bite, debated against another, then reached for a cookie instead. Variety was the spice of life, after all. “I declined to finish the interview, and then got fired for it.” She shrugged her shoulder when Cassie and Mellie gasped. Irene looked curious, but like she didn’t want to appear to care. Teenagers. It was a delicate balance of remaining aloof and worldly all at once. “It’s okay. I wasn’t going anywhere with that job, and my boss was an ass—jerk,” she finished pathetically.

“We know—” Irene started.

“About cursing, yes we’ve heard,” Cassie cut her off. Turning back to Aileen, she said, “Ignore her. She’s seventeen going on seventy. Do you have something else lined up?”

“At this point, I’m probably going to be working at the bowling alley for a while. Until I get my feet under me,” she added when Cassie looked horrified. “It’s not that bad. I mean, cleaning the shoes sucks, but—”

“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just . . . you’re talented. I’ve watched your stuff. You’re funny and cute on camera and you get people to talk easily and the guys all adore you. And you’re honest, which, let’s face it, is a trait not all media people carry,” she added, her face darkening a moment. “Some other place should snap you up in a heartbeat.”