Her brain was being super annoying right now, pointing out her flawed logic. Miriam decided she didn’t care. She reached out to grab the phone before she could convince herself not to and sent a quick message to Silas.
Miriam: Sorry about tonight. You’ll do better next time.
She hit send and dropped the phone in her lap, screen up. Silas was in the post-game recap with the rest of the players. His phone wouldn’t be on, much less on him. And yet, Miriam stared at the screen waiting for a reply.
A text lit up her screen. That was fast. Her heart hammered in her chest, until she realized it was from Harris.
Harris: Missed you tonight. Hope you’re feeling better.
Miriam felt a pang of guilt. She’d abandoned Harris and put all their work tasks on him that night because she was too chicken to see Silas in person—though apparently not too chicken to text. She typed out a quick reply.
Miriam: Thanks! Sorry to have put everything on you.
Harris: I’m happy I could help.
Miriam stared at the words on the screen. Harris was too good to her. She knew he had a thing for her, and that was most likely the reason he was so willing to go out of his way to help her. She didn’t want to be the type of girl who exploited guys’ feelings. She hoped Harris knew that she didn’t expect something for nothing. Just in case, she replied again.
Miriam: I seriously owe you one.
There. That way it was one coworker helping another coworker. She would pay him back, and then they’d be even.
Harris: No, you seriously don’t.
She could almost hear the teasing in his voice as he echoed back some of her same words. Miriam tried to formulate a reply when another text popped up. This time it was from Silas.
Silas: I was missing my muse.
Miriam pressed her fingers to her lips. His muse. That’s what he used to call her back in the day. The words should have hurt, but they had the opposite effect. They excited her. She wanted to be his muse.
Miriam: I was watching at home. Shouldn’t that count?
Silas: I think that only works for away games.
She hated the way her lips curved into a smile at this. She definitely hated the way she pulled one leg under her butt and sat up straight as she eagerly sent her response.
Miriam: I promise to watch the next away game to make up for it (since that does count).
Silas: You’d better. Back to back losses would suck.
Silas: Hey, I gotta get out there for the autograph session. I’ll message you after.
This was dangerous territory. The smart thing would have been to tell him no—leave the conversation where it was. Miriam wasn’t smart.
Miriam: Sounds good.
That impulsive message showed Miriam just how stupid she was. Silas never texted back. Miriam finally gave up and went to bed after waiting for longer than reasonable. She felt more uncertain than ever.
The next morning, Miriam woke to a string of texts from Silas. He apologized profusely saying he got caught up with fans and then planning for the upcoming away game. She knew it was all part of being on a professional sports team, but it still felt like rejection.
Unfortunately, things only got worse when she showed up for work.
There were a dozen roses waiting for her on her desk when she arrived. Miriam quickly looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was standing there. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if Greg found out that Silas had sent her flowers a week after their conversation about boundaries.
The only solution would be to hide the roses in her car or throw them in the dumpster that was behind their office building. Dumpster felt like too big of a risk. Greg might still see them if he took something out. While it was unlikely the general manager would empty the garbage, Miriam was unwilling to take the chance. Car it was. When she lifted the bouquet to take them to the parking lot, the attached card fell to her desk. Likely filled with more apologies, she decided she would read it quickly before hiding the evidence.
She glanced at the doorway one more time and ripped open the small envelope. Her breath caught when she realized that the note and the flowers weren’t from Silas.
They were from Harris.
In his familiar scrawl, the card said that he hoped she was able to rest over the weekend and ended with an invitation to go to dinner on Friday night—the same night as a watch party for the Storm’s away game. The fact that Harris had suggested a restaurant miles away from the bar that usually aired MASL games wasn’t lost on her.
The card fell from her fingers as she sat down in her seat.
Harris was an added part of the equation that Miriam wasn’t ready for. Deep down, she had expected something romantic to develop between them—given enough time.
But that was before Silas had returned and jumbled her mind and her heart.
Now that she knew that the flowers were from Harris, not Silas, it felt mean-spirited to throw them away. Miriam did the only thing she could think of. She grabbed the flowers and her purse, and left.
Half an hour later, she was sitting across from Allie in a small coffee shop.
“Are the flowers still in the car?” Allie asked, once Miriam had finished filling her in on everything that had happened. “Won’t they die in the heat?”
Miriam rubbed her temples. “I pour my heart out to you, and you’re concerned about the flowers?”
Her best friend shrugged. “It’s a tragic waste of roses.”
“How about this? If they’re still alive after coffee, they’re yours.”
“Yay!” Allie clapped her hands.
“But you have to help me with the Silas-Harris situation first.”
Allie shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, there is no ‘Silas-Harris’ situation.”
Miriam sighed loudly. “Allie.”
“There isn’t.” Allie lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip of her latte in
