Page 54 of Made Better Together

“Nice to meet you, I’m Connor.”

After the greetings, I peer back at Eden. Her eyes are already on me, and we unabashedly stare at each other. Fuck the food, I’m eating up the sight of her after so long.

Her cheeks are a bit flushed, framed by her hair, which is carrying a slight wave. Her dark pink lips have a hint of gloss on them, and I suck in a breath as she rubs them together briefly.

Beyond that, I can’t tell you much, because I’m otherwise lost in those turquoise eyes. She’s curious, excited, maybe even a little heated…based on what I see there.

I wonder what mine are telling her? Because damn, same.

“So you two are…friends?” If I’m not mistaken, I see a little smirk on her mom’s face as she recaptures my attention.

Eden clears her throat. “Yes.”

“How did you two meet?”

“Bree. Bree’s Fourth of July parties.”

I finally find my voice. “We were both at my sister Grace’s wedding too. I mean, obviously I was, but Eden came.” I stop short at adding “with Del,” because I’m not 100 percent sure if they get along.

“Yes, she was explaining in the car that your brothers are on the Waves, with Del. Or now, I guess, since he’s a coach, under Del.” Her relaxed tone answers that concern.

“They play different positions than he coaches, but yes.”

“Got it. I’m not much of a football fan, so I’m never sure how these things work. Are you at Tolliver too?”

“No, I just graduated in May.”

“From Princeton,” Eden adds.

Her eyes brighten. “Oh, excellent. What did you study?”

Eden giggles, and I suspect she’s holding back a joke about my degree. When I explain the “Operations Research and Financial Engineering” program, her mom seems duly impressed.

“It sounds wonderful. And what do you do now?”

“Mom—”

“I’m just making conversation…”

“Connor didn’t come here to answer a million questions.”

Honestly, this is better than me searching for small talk topics. “No, it’s fine. I’m interning with a major manager for athletes, soccer players especially.”

She flips her head to Eden. “Oh, that must be useful.”

“Seriously, can we stop giving poor Connor the third degree, Mom?” She sounds more amused than irritated. “Maybe figure out what we want to eat?”

“Yes, yes.” Maureen picks up the menu. “I just like to know my daughter’s friends.” That sly smile is back.

Eden’s mom is as sharp as I would have expected. Though, she seems unbothered by whatever part of the dynamic between Eden and me she’s picked up. She’s perfectly friendly while we spend a couple of minutes poking over the menu and making our selections when the server comes by with our drinks.

Following a sip of red wine, Maureen turns back to me. “So were you an athlete too?”

Eden shoots her a warning look, but I don’t mind the question. I give her a quick synopsis of my convoluted history with soccer and football.

“Ah, that’s got to be useful with your job. Have you been helping Eden with the requests she’s getting?”

I glance at Eden. “Requests?”