Grims’s eyes blazed for another beat before they seemed to flicker. He gave Gage a jerky nod and dropped into his seat.
Gage let out a breath and exchanged a what-the-fuck-was-that glance with T.J. as they retook their seats. T.J. shrugged, shoved in his earbuds, and closed his eyes.
A few minutes passed, and Quinn, who sat across the aisle from Gage, craned his neck in Hunter’s direction and grinned. “Hunts, when we get home, let’s get you laid, bud. That’s what I plan to do. I’m pretty sure I’ll come to practice on Saturday with a song in my heart”—he sang out the last four words—“and a whole new attitude.” Then he broke into a really bad rendition of Patti LaBelle’s “New Attitude,” making everyone chuckle.
Just like that, the ice was broken.
“Jesuuus, Hadley. Didn’t you get enough in Detroit?” one player called out.
Quinn picked up a trio of bean bags he always had with him and started juggling. “Is there such a thing as ‘enough’? Besides, that was two nights ago.”
Hunter guffawed. “Which bunny did you tap?”
“Which time?” Quinn shot back.
Gage tracked the bean bags, fascinated by how Quinn kept them in the air. Gage had tried, multiple times, and had never gotten the hang of it.
Grims, the only guy who wasn’t amused by the banter, growled something indecipherable. Gage tapped him on the shoulder. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he barked.
Whoa! Gage sat back. “Easy, dude.”
“He was just being nice,” Quinn joked. “It’s what Nelsy does.” He sent Gage a wink.
Grims turned in his seat. “Just shut the fuck up, Hadley.”
Quinn was still smiling when he said, “What’s gotten into you, Grims?”
“Shit, I don’t know, Hadley. Could it be your face?”
Quinn dropped the bean bags and opened his mouth, but Gage prodded his shoulder and shook his head. In a booming voice, he said, “We’ll all get some rest, blow off some steam. We’ll have a good practice Saturday and take it to Arizona Sunday.”
Hunter piped up. “So Hadley’s gonna spend a few days in the sack. What’re your plans, Nelsy?”
Gage’s phone vibrated, and he broke out in a smile despite the leftover tension crackling in the air. “Working on ’em now.”
Lily: Group went well. Thanks for asking. Sorry about the loss.
Gage: It’s just a game. You and Daisy are still coming to mites, right?
Lily: Wouldn’t miss it, Professor.
The charged atmosphere seemed to dissipate while the weariness that had been weighing his limbs down seemed to disappear.
Gage: They’re about to make us shut off our phones. How about I take you girls out to dinner tomorrow night?
Lily: Sounds nice. What time?
He suppressed the urge to pump his arm. Pick you up at 5:30?
Lily: See you then.
The last three words took away his lingering agitation, giving him a lift. Locking out the unsettling exchange between his teammates, he turned his thoughts in a much more pleasant direction and drifted off.
The next day, he parked in front of her house a few minutes early. Before he could pull his bundles out of the car, Daisy opened the front door and yelled, “Hello, Mr. Cage!” Her big eyes widened as he strode up the walkway. “Are those for my mom?”
Lily appeared behind her daughter, and when her eyes landed on the bouquets he held, they widened too.
“One’s for your mom, but the other one’s for you.” He climbed the few steps and handed Daisy an arrangement bursting with yellow daisies and tulips. It was so big she needed both arms to wrap around it. On her face, pure delight made his chest swell.
“Mom! Mommy! We got flowers!”
Laughing, Lily accepted his gift—an even bigger arrangement of spring flowers that included different kinds of lilies—and beckoned him inside. “Yes, we did. Wasn’t that nice of Mr. Cage? What do you say, sweetie?”
“Thank you.” Daisy beamed. “I’m gonna put these in water.” She scampered away.
Gage resisted the urge to lean down and kiss Lily, even though doing so seemed so right. Maybe she felt it too because her cheeks pinked, and she let out a nervous laugh. He also laughed, for no reason, feeling like a total idiot.
“Do we have a few minutes to get these in vases?” she asked shyly.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Kitchen’s this way. Thank you for the flowers—for both of us. It was very thoughtful, and they’re lovely. It’s been a long time since anyone’s brought me flowers.”
“Really?” he blurted. “You should get flowers every day.”
Her blush deepened, turning his heart into a jackhammer. As he followed her, his eyes swept the living room, dining room, and kitchen beyond. Though it was an older home, it had been brought into the twenty-first century and had an open, airy, comfortable feel. It was exactly like its owner. It even smelled like her—clean, fresh, and flowery. In a spotless white-and-gray kitchen splashed in yellow and turquoise, Daisy was chattering excitedly about the flowers as she struggled with the top-heavy bouquet.
While the ladies busied themselves, his eyes explored the space. A long hallway to one side beckoned with an array of pictures. Curiosity piqued—were there photos among them of Lily as a girl?—he pointed toward it. “Do you mind if I …”
Lily’s eyes darted that way. “Um …”
Holding up his hands in surrender, he laughed. “It’s okay. If you don’t want me to see any messes …”
“I don’t have a messy house.” She gave him an impish grin. “Go ahead. Help yourself.”
He ambled that direction, stopped, and studied. Bands constricted his chest. Where he thought he’d see at least a few pictures of Lily and many of Daisy, he was stunned to find instead a wall of what could only be Jack from the time he was a baby until he was a grown man. And it wasn’t just pictures. It was a collection of mementos, like backstage passes, awards, a guitar strap. The hallway was a veritable two-walled shrine.
One of the rare pictures that featured Lily depicted her with a
