The One & Only(35)

“Way off,” I said, wriggling out from under him. “The Juice. O.J. Better luck next time.” I laughed and sat up.

“Wait. First the dude murders two people … and now he’s cock-blocking me?”

I made a face. “Don’t ever use that expression again. But yes.”

Ryan laughed and said, “You really do, don’t you?”

“I really do what?”

“Like football more than sex?”

“Hmm … it’s about tied,” I said.

Ryan’s face lit up. “That’s a hell of an answer,” he said. “I have a good feeling about you, Shea Rigsby.”

I smiled back at him. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, good,” I said. “Because I have a pretty good feeling about you, too, Ryan James.”





Ten





After a weekend of obsessing and worrying and self-loathing for being such a reckless drunk, I headed straight to Coach Carr’s office, first thing Monday morning. Relieved to find Mrs. Heflin away from her desk, I took a deep breath and knocked on his door.

“Come in!” his voice boomed.

In agony, I made myself open the door and look into his eyes, noticing that they exactly matched the light blue golf shirt he was wearing.

“Hi,” I said, wishing I had brought something to hold, a notebook, folder, anything. “Good morning.”

“Yes, it is,” he said, smiling. “How are you today, Shea?”

“Fine,” I said. “How are you?”

“Not too bad,” he said, motioning for me to come in the whole way.

“Are you sure … this is a good time?” I said, almost hoping he’d say no.

Instead, he glanced at his watch and said, “Yup. I have a few minutes before I head into a meeting.”

I took three tentative steps forward, now standing in the middle of his office. “How’s it looking?” I said, glancing at the play diagram on his desk, covered with Xs and Os.

“We’re getting there … You gonna have a seat or what?” he said, leaning back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. I took another step, then sat down, crossing my legs and staring at my lap.

I waited, hoping he’d mention my phone call first, until he finally said, “Well, c’mon, don’t be bashful now.”

“Right … So about that … I just wanted to apologize …” I began, meeting his eyes, then looking at his chin, probably my favorite feature of his. It was the quintessential coach’s jaw, strong and square with a cleft in the middle that always reminded me of a decisive, authoritative period. It crossed my mind that if a coach didn’t have a good chin, he might as well go ahead and find another profession.

“Apologize? For what?” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a slight smile.

“For calling you so late and—”

“I was up. Watching film,” he said.

“Well, then … I’m sorry that I interrupted you … while you were working,” I said, thinking that the hour of the call or the interruption of his work wasn’t really the crux of what I was sorry for, but it was hard to say “I’m sorry I drunk-dialed you.”

“It was fine. You were fine,” he said, now looking full-on amused. You’d think letting me off the hook would have made me feel better, but my anxiety only increased with every incremental absolution.

He cocked his head to the side and said, “How much had you had to drink, anyway?”

“Um … I don’t know … Probably a little … too much,” I said.

“Well. You have to be careful with that stuff,” he said. “You always want to be in control.”

“Yes,” I said, nodding, trying to remember when I had dropped the sir.

“So you were with Ryan, huh?”

“Yes. We went to a charity function. As friends.” I said the last part with emphasis, although I wasn’t sure why.

“Well, it’s good to have friends,” he said teasingly.

“Yes. Friends are good. I mean—take us, for instance,” I babbled, my face heating up again. “I’m glad we’re friends. You and me. At least I think we’re friends?”

“Of course we’re friends,” he said, smirking. “And, as we established … friends are good.”

“Right,” I said, the tension mounting in my shoulders until I just said it. “And when I said you were my favorite person in the world and all that … I just meant—”

“I know what you meant.”

I exhaled. “You do?”

“Sure. You meant … that I’m your favorite person in the world.” He let out a big laugh, his eyes doing that twinkly thing.