Page 126 of Bluffed By the Offense

The irony! I did meet a nice boy. Only I didn’t know how nice he was. And we won’t ever be settling down.

“So, Cass, tell me about yourself,” Mrs. Delaney says.

“I’m a twin,” I say, humoring her. “I grew up in Waterford.”

“You should hear her rattle off stats, Mama,” Marcus says. “She’s something else.”

I smile up at Marcus, whose arm is still around me, probably to make sure I don’t make a break for it and run out the door.

“Oh, so you’re a football fan?”

“I am.”

“That’s good. Well, I won’t keep you. Go eat. It sure was nice to meet you, Cass. Take good care of my boy.”

“I’ll do my best,” I say.

And I would. In another life, I would take such good care of Marcus Delaney.

I step out of his embrace as soon as he says, “Bye, Mama. Love you. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He turns to look at me. “Let’s get you a different shirt. You can clean up in the bathroom. The pasta’s not ruined.”

“No, but your kitchen is,” I say. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s nothing. I’ll get a wet towel and clean up while you change. Follow me.”

He walks out of the kitchen, turns down a hallway and into a bedroom. I stop in the doorway. This is his bedroom. There’s a dark wood king-sized bed with two matching side tables, a dresser and a sitting area. He goes to the dresser and pulls out … a jersey?

He walks over to me. “Here.”

“Your jersey?”

“I’ve got a few.”

“If I knew I’d be getting a Marcus Delaney jersey, I’d have whipped pasta at all the walls.”

“Yeah?”