My friends slide alongside me, and she straightens, tapping her iPad repeatedly.
“Morning, Macy.”
None notice her glare as she switches her expression to work mode.
“Morning, gentlemen. I gather it’s the same order. Are any of you ordering cake like Reef?”
“Cake?” Billy turns to stare at me.
“Spur of the minute decision. Scrap the cake,” I tell Macy.
She holds my gaze a moment longer waiting for me to add to the order. Only I know it’s a win. It didn’t sound like a win moments before, but she is now looking at me. “Just coffee for now.”
Definitely a win because every other time I glance up, I catch her looking my way. After paying the bill to another waitress assuming she is in the kitchen avoiding me, I walk outside and wait by the light post. Macy appears by my table and looks under a couple of items as though expecting a note. Only this time there isn’t one. I gave her some reprieve, but I type out a text on my phone.
What will it take for you to talk to me?
Just once?
The moment I hit send, I glance up to her turning to see me standing in my regular spot. I hold up my phone, hold her gaze a moment longer, before wandering along the street toward my car. Hands in jean pockets, I hum out a tune thinking about how to play by her rules.
I give her space because this weekend is Adele’s party, and although she hasn’t mentioned it, Chance told me she’ll be there.
During the entire plane trip, I think about how I could be flying with Macy. My girl beside me and not another teammate because all year I fly around the country with the lads. The thought of sitting beside Macy excites me, and if everything goes well, I could change my flight to the same one as hers to come home.
I curse. I’m getting ahead of myself. After a few days of radio silence, it’s not looking great. The ball’s been in her hands since I apologised, but it looks like she’s tossed it aside without a care.
I do care, and I’m not prepared to lose.
Lose her.
I spend the day with my family before heading to Adele’s.
ABBA blares through the front door indicating this will not be the usual party for Chance or me. But he grew up with a sister and will be used to it. I’m down the hall, present tucked under my arm when the music changes to Taylor Swift. Better.
“Reef, it’s great to see you.” Chance’s mother pulls me into her arms.
“Mrs Bateman. You look well.” I hug her with my free hand. “How have you been?”
She pushes the same copper locks out of her eyes, and when she smiles and her dimples appear, it reminds me of her son. “I’m well. We’re all well,” she emphasises. “I was just telling Chance I’m planning another trip to Iowa to visit my mother. I miss her terribly and hope Chance and Adele can also make the trip sometime this year.”
“A trip to the US always sounds fun and even better to see family. Talking of Adele, where is the birthday girl?”
“Out back dancing with a glass of champagne in her hand. Can I rely on you to make sure she doesn’t make a fool of herself tonight?”
Palms high, I shake my head. “Don’t put pressure on me, Mrs B.” It’s Adele’s twenty-first, and one thing I do know is we have all made fools of ourselves while celebrating.
“No, I guess I shouldn’t, especially since she started drinking at lunch with her new friend who is staying here. I overhear things.” She smiles at me. “I believe you know her. She’s from Adelaide.”
I raise a brow. “Macy is staying here?”
“It’s the only way Adele could get her to come to the party.” She pats my arm. “Heard your name mentioned once or twice. So, I suppose you’re eager to get out there and join them.”
My gaze is already fixed on the door looking beyond the kitchen to the garden. I wander through the crowd searching for the small stage. I didn’t have to search far as it’s near the large speakers erected on poles with Beyoncé’s voice floating over the crowd. Hell, if I knew Macy was staying here, I would have arrived before dinner.
Hands in the air, Macy and Adele twirl about swaying and grinding without a care.
I want to take a front seat and watch my girl dance, only I need to be subtle and head to the bar to calm my heart with a strong drink.
“Didn’t think you’d be working the booze.”
Chance walks around and pats me on the back. “My way of overseeing how much Adele drinks.” He winks. “She thinks I’m being a good bro and helping out.” He grins. “I’m a protective bastard making sure no one spikes her drink.”
I chuckle. “Heard those two began celebrating early.”
“Yeah.” He walks back around the bar and serves the person standing beside me. “Macy arrived last night and heads home tomorrow around lunchtime.” He shoots me a knowing look. When the guy walks away, Chance pops the lid of a Corona and hands me the bottle.
“Thanks.” I raise and tilt it toward him in gratitude before turning to peek through the crowd toward the dance floor.
“Take it slow tonight,” he says. “Macy’s having fun and because she’s been drinking for hours, she mightn’t remember everything tomorrow. She wants to let her hair down and have fun.”
I nod without looking at him. “If Macy gives me a couple of minutes of her time, I’ll be happy.”
He laughs. “Don’t wait too long if you want to talk about anything serious. They were talking smack a few minutes ago when I refilled their bubbles.”
“How many bottles have they consumed?” I touch the pile of twisted wire on the end of the bar. “And what’s this?”
“Too many and my latest artwork.”
“You call this art?”
He frowns at me. “I tried to replicate one I picked up. Wait! Don’t you have one?”
“Why would I have one?”
He shrugs. “Never mind.” Chance pulls out a straw thingy and rips the wrapper with his teeth. He leans back for the powder to sprinkle on his tongue.
“What are you doing, mate?”
“Keeping up my energy. Ever since my last trip to the US, I’ve craved sherbet. These are from the US and called Pixy Stix. You want one?”
“You’re a bloody kid sometimes.” I chuckle. “I’ll be back. I’m going to say hi to your dad.”
Mr Bateman is with a group of Chance’s teammates near the dance floor. I stand beside him with Macy in my periphery.
“Mr Bateman.” We shake hands.
“It’s been a while, son. How’s Adelaide treating you?”
“All good. Looking forward to next season. I hear Chance is close to playing his first game.”
“He’s received a lot of attention off and on the field. His guernsey’s are sold out almost every game, and his signed poster is in demand. I hope he plays well when he gets his chance, or those poster sales might plummet.”
I chuckle. “Fans love him. Or should I say the chicks?”
“It’s the selectors he needs to impress.”
We clink bottles before I turn to his mates. “Gerry. Paulo.” I nod to both guys. “The team is killing it this year.”