I can’t help but feel like Jenny’s watching from somewhere amongst the gray clouds and laughing to herself.
Not sure what to say, I train my eyes on Ryan and the kids on the field. The other parents haven’t noticed me yet, too absorbed in shouting commands from the sideline to their children.
Stacy’s voice calls my attention back to her. “Did you get a chance to look at the phone numbers I texted you? I really think you have a shot with those nannies. They’re the best in the business.”
“Not yet,” I answer simply, despite the fact that I don’t intend to ever look at them.
The woman in front of me is the only one who comes close to the image of the perfect nanny that I have in my head for Ryan. I just have to figure out some way of convincing her to take the job.
A strange nervousness bubbles in my stomach as I stand side-by-side with the petite, brunette teacher. This feels weird. Like a date, almost. And that’s definitely not something that typically makes me feel nervous.
I'm The Hartbreak Kid! I don’t get nervous around women.
I’ve dated so many ‘it’ girls, from other athletes to celebs to models. Women line up for hours just for a chance to meet me, and I’ve never had the faintest hint of a flutter in my stomach. So what’s going on with me right now?
Maybe it’s more than panic attacks. Maybe this unbearable pressure has finally broken me. Or maybe it’s just that Stacy is so wildly different from the other women I regularly interact with. Either way, I can’t think of a clever thing to say to her to save my life.
Great, my game is dead.
“So how was football?” Stacy asks after the silence lingers on a bit too long.
“Good,” I answer, fighting against my unusual shyness. This should be where I lay on the charm and try to seduce Stacy back into my bed after Ryan goes to sleep, but it’s like my mind isn’t working right, like I'm wading through sludge and slime instead of the usual smoothness with which I approach women I'm interested in.
“That’s good,” Stacy answers breezily, not perturbed by my stiff candor in the slightest. “Did you, like, punt the ball to the hiker or something?”
One of my eyebrows twitches in amusement. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”
She laughs, a sound sweeter than any melody I’ve ever heard. “You got me. I’m not really into sports.”
I let the insulting comment slide because her dimples are doing something disturbing to my knees. I clear my throat. “How was Ryan for you this afternoon?”
“Oh, he was a dream. He got his homework done while we were passing time before practice. I told him he couldn’t play unless he finished.”
“He was excited about trying out soccer then?”
Stacy looks up at me and grins, her white teeth glimmering in the sunlight that’s banishing any hint of the earlier rain. “Super excited.”
My heart feels warm, both because this beautiful woman is smiling at me and because I feel like finally I'm doing something right for Ryan.
“I'm glad you told me about this, Stacy. I hope it makes a difference for him. When I started playing football, it changed my whole outlook on life.”
“It’ll help him too,” she answers gently. “Just give him time. Especially if you try to keep making it to his practices.” She adds with the least subtle side-eye I’ve ever experienced.
“I want to. My sister always came to my home games, every single one.” My heart drops as that familiar loneliness creeps in. “I still have her chair reserved like she’s going to use it someday.”
Even now, while fans are cheering my name and women are pulling me in a thousand different directions and I'm forcing a smile, I still look toward those seats like Jenny is going to be perched there, beaming and wearing my jersey.
Stacy pins me with those comforting hazel eyes. “She raised you after your parents passed?”
I nod. “Jenny was barely more than a kid herself when she took on the role, but our parents weren’t really part of the picture even when they were alive. I owe Jenny so much. Everything, actually. Without her guidance, I would’ve wound up in trouble. I didn’t exactly run with a good crowd.”
Stacy puts a hand gently on my arm. “She’s still here. Jenny may not be in that stadium seat anymore, but she hasn’t stopped looking out for you and Ryan. She’ll show you she’s here in her own little ways. A sun shower when you need it most or a cool breeze or a lucky penny.”
God. Jenny would’ve loved Stacy.
I smile at her, choking up at her words, and then pretend the sun is the reason I’m squinting so hard that I have to look away for a moment.
I’m quiet the rest of the game while Stacy cheers for Ryan and claps her hands together as the little boy kicks the ball as hard as he can. The ball doesn’t go anywhere near the goal, but he seems proud of his efforts anyway, so I join in the cheering. It stings to know that Jenny is missing all of this.
My heart throbs in my chest but I bite back a grunt of pain. Ryan is looking and I don’t want him to see how badly I'm missing his mother.
He’s smiling so much, his little brow sweaty and his eyes dancing. I know exactly how he’s feeling, this is just how my first couple of football practices went.
“I don’t think I’ll ever measure up to Jenny,” I say abruptly, startled by my stark honesty.
Something about Stacy makes me want to be real and I’m not sure if I like it. I’m used to playing the role of The Hartbreak Kid, deflecting personal questions with a joke or something.
“You’re here,” Stacy answers. “Even the tiniest step in the right direction is powerful.”
My head, having dropped toward my chest, swivels to her. She smiles up at me, but as our eyes lock, the smile slowly fades.
We stand there, gazing into one another’s eyes, the cheers and the shouts of the parents forgotten, the sun’s heat on our heads warming me through.
This woman is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Even with all those Hartbreakers grabbing my jersey after my games, begging me to take them home, nothing compares to the feeling I have standing next to Stacy. She stands out above the rest—and I have an unquenchable desire to find out why.
Her mouth is slightly open, lips pink and supple and so kissable I can almost taste them. I bet she tastes just like strawberries, sweet and plump and ripe.
I wish I knew what she was thinking. I can’t even begin to tell. Her eyes churn but she doesn’t say anything, she only slowly drifts toward me, our faces moving closer and closer like magnets are pulling our lips together.
Is she dreaming about how I taste right now, too?
“Stacy,” I whisper, inhaling the scent of her perfume. My body turns toward her so that I can face her more fully.
She’s so flipping short there’s no way her lips can meet mine unless I scoop her into my arms—an enticing thought that’s running through my mind on a loop.
My heart is beating like a jackhammer against my ribs as I make the decision to act on my desires. But before I can pull Stacy into my arms, another arm suddenly loops around mine and jerks me away. With a startled yelp, I've whirled around so my back is to the brunette teacher. It happened so fast I think I have whiplash.