stayed by the counter. “Why didn’t you?”
“Law is not my thing. Mom’s a doctor—cardiologist—and before you ask, med school also wasn’t my thing.”
Her right hand went to that bracelet, a nervous habit I was beginning to realize. “And sports recreation is your thing?”
“Soccer is my thing. So if I can get on with a team, helping their players, then I’m happy.” I paused, shifting my weight. “Or I’d love to coach, maybe high school or whatever.”
Her gaze dipped to the floor as she crept forward. She reminded me of a scared animal that had been hurt before and was distrustful of those around her. The knot expanded in my chest and the horrible pricking sensation was back, telling me something I didn’t want to hear.
“Why don’t you play soccer?” she asked.
And that was a subject I didn’t want to touch, but she was asking questions and there was no way I could shoot her down. “It’s a long … complicated story, but it’s not something I can do right now.”
She was by the table, hovering near the chair. “What about later?”
“Later … later might work.” And that was true. If I kept in shape, kept up with the game, who knew? It just wasn’t something I allowed myself to think about a lot. “So you flying back to Texas for fall break or Thanksgiving?”
She snorted. “Probably not.”
“Got other plans?”
Avery shrugged and then started asking me about soccer. Hours had passed and I was sure she was as knowledgeable about soccer as she ever would be. It was near noon when I stood. I didn’t really want to leave, but I had sucked up all her morning.
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