Page 23 of While You Were Trending

I’m more convinced by the minute that she lives here.

I shake my hands off, dry them, then grab a bag of rolls sitting on a cookie sheet on one of the wheeled racks and set it in front of her. “Here. They’ll help.”

I can’t see her blue eyes, but the rest of her face is telegraphing a wariness that socks me in the gut.

Take out the crush factor, and Ginny was always—well, far nicer than I would’ve been in her shoes.

When Alex told me he’d asked her out at the start of our senior year of college, I expected a spoiled, out-of-touch former reality TV star. I’d seen some episodes ofOn the Rhodes, her family’s reality series, and even knowing that those shows were scripted, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d be just as much of a brat in person as she was onscreen.

But out of touch is the last thing she’s ever been, Alex’s first wedding aside.

When he and I were drafted to the same team in Indianapolis, she worked with the team’s coordinator on our behalf to get us a two-bedroom apartment and furnishings. Alex and I both wanted to save as much of our salaries as we could while we were still used to living cheaply, and we’d always been good roommates, and there was a bit of a superstition factor involved too.

Like maybe we wouldn’t play as well if we weren’t sharing an apartment.

Living with Ginny wasn’t ideal, but I was at least used to it. She’d lived with us most of our senior year anyway.

When I went down with an injury my rookie season, she baked me cookies.

Healthy cookies.

High protein. Low sugar.

She’d invite me to join them for movie nights on days that we didn’t have games, and she’d grab my favorite snacks from the store when she was getting Alex food.

She’d pick up my suits from the dry cleaners along with his, and she always made my favorite meal on my birthday.

She was nice to any woman I’d bring back to the apartment, and the one time it turned into more than a one-night stand, she introduced my girlfriend to the team’s other wives and girlfriends.

When Alex and I decided it was time to get our own places, she still invited me for dinner—more often than he did, it seemed—and she offered to watch my new dog when we were on the road.

And I never reciprocated.

Ever.

Didn’t want it to look like I was hitting on my buddy’s girlfriend because I didn’t know how to interact with Ginny andnothave it written all over my face that I was madly in love with this woman who had a funny laugh and a generous spirit and a quick brain and the worst taste in music and who made the best lemon cookies I’ve ever tasted in my life.

It was immature and stupid, but that’s how I handled liking her.

She pushes the rolls away. “I don’t need bribes.”

I go back to the pot. “Not a bribe.”

“Then what is this?”

“Just looked like you needed it.”

“Is this pity?”

“No, it’s?—”

It’s anI love youpresent.

Pathetic, right?

I don’t even know her anymore.

Can’t love someone you don’t know.