Page 117 of Discerning Blake

I shrug. “Did you talk to her? Did you get her number?”

Bryce pretends not to hear me and goes to take someone’s order.

“Yes,” Amelia whispers again. “But he’s not as excited about it as I thought he would be. I think he’s still in shock.”

“I’m shocked she gave him her phone number.”

“Well… she gave me her phone number too," Amelia says. "She may not be all that picky.”

“Maybe he’s mad that she lied,” Scarlett says, budding in.

“Maybe it’s none of your business,” Bryce calls from behind the bar.

“It was a great concert though,” Scarlett says.

“She has a great voice,” Amelia agrees. “I like her even more now that I’ve seen her singing live.”

Bryce groans. We all turn to look at him.

“Yes,” he says. “She’s amazing. Can we change the subject?”

“Or better yet,” Brody interjects. “How about you all go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be another long day.”

I laugh at Brody suddenly turning on his big brother mode, and catch him raising an eyebrow at Scarlett, who's sitting down next to Luke.

“He’s not wrong,” Amelia says, extricating herself from me. “We have to be up early for Chase’s tournament.”

“Alright,” Scarlett says. “Let’s get the kids and go home.”

The two of them leave and Luke shortly follows.

“Go,” Bryce tells me after a half hour. “I’ll finish your shift.”

“You sure you wouldn’t rather go and call Nina. She’s probably still driving.”

Bryce doesn’t look at me when he says, “What’s the point?”

I can’t answer that for him. All I know is I let a woman I liked go before, and it was the worst mistake of my life.

Maybe he’ll come around after a good night’s sleep.

I clean up for a bit and leave. I hate going up to my apartment alone. But I’m spending most of the day with Amelia tomorrow so I force myself to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Amelia

Chase loves baseball tournaments. He wakes me up at five a.m. I make myself coffee with my eyes half closed while he goes to take a shower. When the caffeine has kicked in, he has me looking all over the apartment for a sock, then his baseball glove, and then his baseball cap.

We’re out the door by six and are the first ones to arrive at the baseball field, twenty minutes early.

Blake shows up five minutes later with two coffees, a hot chocolate, and bagels. I could just kiss him, but I refrain with Chase watching me.

Chase spends the next fifteen minutes talking to Blake about the tournament without taking a single breath, until his teammates start to show up. Then he runs off without saying goodbye.

“Good luck,” I call out to him.

A wave of his hand is all the answer I get.