“I saw you sitting with a guy, holding his hand and I—freaked the fuck out,” I continue.
Joanna tilts her head to the side, wincing. “I can imagine that probably looked bad.”
“Yeah, and you’re sitting back here in a dark corner, like you don’t want anyone to see you.” I glance around the quiet café before returning my gaze to her. “I made an assumption and I was wrong.”
“He’s just a good friend who’s going through some stuff,” she says softly. “He needed someone to talk it through with.”
Reaching across the table, I take her hand, interlacing our fingers. “I’m glad you could be there for him.”
“Me too. And just to let you know, you can look pretty hostile when you want to,” she says with a teasing smile.
I take a deep breath, feeling like a complete shit. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“Because maybe you were…jealous?”
Well, shit. Was I? I don’t get jealous of anyone. Wait, that’s not true. I’m envious of anyone who makes a better catch than I do or gains more yardage than me when we’re playing a game. Or someone who gets more attention. I can share the spotlight, so to speak, but I also can admit to myself that I enjoy it more when all eyes are on me.
When they’re on someone else, even Cam, who’s the fucking quarterback for God’s sake, I get a little jealous. I’m ridiculous, but at least I can admit it.
But that’s usually it. I don’t get jealous over a woman. I’m never with one long enough to actually experience the feeling.
Until now.
“You’re right. I was jealous.”
We both sit at the table silently, studying each other, waiting for the other’s reaction. I’m also dealing with the fact that I just admitted I was jealous of another guy, which is…not like me.
At all.
“You were?” she finally says, her voice barely above a squeak. Like she’s surprised I would feel that way.
Guess I’m surprised I feel that way too.
“I didn’t like seeing you with another guy,” I admit. “I just—reacted. I’m sorry.”
“You already apologized.” Her smile and her eyes are soft. I think she’s enjoying watching me scramble here. “Why did you come to the café anyway?”
“Oh, I was stopping by to pick you up a vanilla latte. Then I was going to stop by your place and surprise you with it.”
“Aw, really? That’s so sweet.”
“Yeah, there’s something I wanted to ask you.” I squirm in my chair, suddenly uncomfortable.
“What is it?”
“My, uh, parents are coming to the game next Saturday. They’ll be here that whole weekend. I was kind of hoping that they could—meet you.” I swallow hard, my heart thumping wildly. If she turns me down, I’m going to feel like an asshole.
She blinks once. Twice. “You want me to meet your parents?”
“Yeah, it’s like…no big deal.” I shrug, playing it off.
“Have you had them meet any other girl you’ve been with?”
“Besides my senior prom date? No.”
“Knox.” She’s smiling. “That’s kind of a big deal.”
My stomach hollows out. “Fuck, you’re right. It’s a huge deal. If you want to back out—”