Merry with a Playmaker (Love Beach Holiday Collection)

Chapter Six

A gust of warmth and the aroma of brewed coffee welcome me when I enter the cafe. My eyes scan the room, landing on a familiar figure seated at a table by the window.

Evan looks up, a playful grin spreading across his face as he waves me over. "Merry! I was starting to think you'd stood me up."

"In your dreams, de Nemours." I slide into the chair across from him, setting down my folder stuffed with notes and diagrams. "Some of us have real jobs, you know."

"Ouch!" He clutches his chest in mock offense. "I'll have you know being this devastatingly charming is a full-time gig."

Something about Evan's easy humor cuts through my bullshit detector. "Right. Well, if you can spare a few minutes from your busy schedule, shall we get down to business?"

"Aye aye, captain." He gives me a cheeky salute before reaching for his own notes, the movement causing his hand to accidentally brush against mine.

I shudder at the brief, and I quickly busy myself flipping through papers to hide the flush creeping into my cheeks. Get it together, Merry. This is Evan - your old friend, not some college crush.

I clear my throat, focusing on the task at hand. "So, I've been crunching the numbers, and I think if we can get at least 500 attendees, we'll be in good shape to meet our fundraising goal."

Evan leans forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he studies the figures I've laid out. "Impressive as always, Robinson. Your strategic mind never ceases to amaze me."

I duck my head, tucking a non-existent stray strand behind my ear. "Yes, well, I don't know about that... I think we can make this event a success if we put our heads together."

"Unstoppable dream team, just like old times?" He grins, holding up his hand for a high-five.

"Dream team," I agree, feeling a spark of excitement for what lies ahead. "Now, let's talk logistics..."

We dive into the details, our conversation flows effortlessly, punctuated by moments of shared laughter and inside jokes. Evan's enthusiasm is infectious, his ideas creative and bold in all the right ways.

"What if we auction off a chance to play in the match alongside the retired pros?" he suggests, eyes bright with possibility. "Fans would jump at the opportunity!"

I nod, jotting down notes as the plan takes shape. "We could even have a VIP meet-and-greet beforehand, give them the full star treatment."

Evan reaches for his coffee, his hand brushing against mine in the process. The fleeting contact is enough to remind me of the undeniable chemistry that’s been on a low boil since our reunion.

Focus, Merry. This is about the charity event, nothing more.

When I glance up, Evan's gaze is fixed on me, a softness in his expression that makes my heart skip a beat. "You know, I couldn't do this without you. Your brilliant mind, your unwavering support... It means everything to me."

"I'm just happy to help. You know that."

His hand finds mine again. "I know, bit I also need you to know how much I appreciate you, Merry. How much I've always appreciated you."

I'm acutely aware ofthe way his thumb brushes over my knuckles, the gesture both comforting and electrifying.

I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch, my mind a jumble of emotions I'm not quite ready to face. The rational side of me knows I should pull away, put some distance between us before things get too complicated.

Evan's gaze drops to my lips, and for a heart-stopping second, I think he might just do that.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get all sentimental on you there." He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. "Must be the holiday spirit getting to me."

I force a laugh, trying to ignore the way my heart is racing. "No worries, it happens to the best of us."

We turn our attention to the plans in front of us, something has shifted between us, a line blurred that can never quite be uncrossed.

"You know," Evan says, stretching his arms overhead, "I think we could use a break. Clear our heads a bit."

I raise an eyebrow. "A break? We're on a roll here."

He grins, that boyish charm I remember so well shining through. "Come on, Merry. A quick walk on the beach won't derail our master plan."

The thought of spending more time alone with Evan, away from the safety of the café and our planning, sends a thrill of both excitement and trepidation through me.

"Alright, but just a quick walk."

We step outside, the salty sea breeze whipping through my hair as we make our way down to the shore. The sound of the waves is soothing, a gentle rhythm that seems to wash away the tension of the day.

Evan clears his throat, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "You know, being back here, seeing you again... it's made me realize how much I regret letting our friendship slip away."

I glance over at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. "Evan..."

"No, let me finish." He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself. "I got so caught up in my career, in chasing that next big win, that I lost sight of what mattered. The people who mattered."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, echoing the thoughts I've been grappling with myself. How many times have I put my own ambitions above everything else, letting relationships fall by the wayside in the process?

I reach out, my hand brushing against his in a tentative gesture of comfort. "I think we both made mistakes, Evan. But we're here now, aren't we?"

He turns to face me, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that steals my breath. "Yeah, we are. And I don't want to waste this second chance."

I smile nervously, casting a sly sideways glance at him. "Who are you and what have you done with the Evan I know?"

He laughs at that, the sound mingling with the crash of the waves. "Oh, he's still here. Just older and wiser, with a few more regrets under his belt."

"Don't we all," I murmur.

We lapse into silence again, but it's different now. Part of me wants to run, to retreat to the safety of quips and spreadsheets.

Evan's hand brushes against mine as we walk. I glance down, surprised to find his fingers intertwining with my own. The gesture is so natural, so effortless, that it takes me a moment to realize what's happening.

My heart races, pounding in time with the rhythm of the waves. I let myself savor the warmth of his touch, the rough calluses on his palm a reminder of the man he's become.

We continue down the beach, our joined hands swinging between us. The silence stretches on, but it's a comfortable one, filled with the unspoken understanding that comes from years of friendship.

The last sliver of sun disappears beneath the waves, Evan turns to me, his face softened by the fading light. "Thank you for today, Merry. For listening, for being here."

I squeeze his hand, a silent acknowledgment of the trust he's placed in me. "Anytime, Evan. That's what friends are for, right?"

The word "friends" hangs heavy a reminder of the line we're dancing around. But for now, with the sand beneath our feet and the stars twinkling overhead, it's enough.

We return to the café, the twinkling fairy lights and soft acoustic music enveloping us in a cozy embrace. We settle back into our seats, I notice the shift. It's like the beach walk has peeled away a layer of our defenses, leaving us raw and exposed.

Evan’s forearm brushes against mine when he reaches for his notebook. I tense at the brief contact unsure if I should lean in or pull away. I catch myself staring at the strong lines of his jaw, and the shadows cast by his ridiculously long lashes on his cheeks.

"Right, so," he clears his throat, "where were we?"

I blink, trying to focus on the papers in front of me and not the husky quality of his voice. "Um, the charity game. We were finalizing the lineup."

He nods, his pen tapping against the table. "I think we've got a solid team. With your strategic magic and my irresistible charm, we can't lose."

"Irresistible charm?"

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it." He winks, and my traitorous does a long dive off the pier.

We dive back into the planning, our heads bent together over the diagrams and player stats. Every brush of his hand against mine, every shared glance, is charged with something more. The tension is a live wire waiting to spark.

We finalize the last few details, Evan leans back in his chair, stretching his arms overhead. His shirt rides up, revealing a strip of tanned skin, and I avert my eyes.

"I think we're ready," he says, his voice low and intimate. "The game, I mean."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. We're so close now, our knees almost touching under the table. Heat radiates off his body.

I stand abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. "I should get going. Early day tomorrow."

Evan rises too, his brow furrowed. "Merry, wait—"

I'm already gathering my things my heart hammering in my chest. "Thanks for today, Evan. I'll see you at the game."

I flee, leaving him standing there in the glow of the fairy lights, a question in his eyes that I'm not ready to answer.

*********

The drive home is a blur, my mind reeling from the events of the night. Evan's kiss, his words, the way he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world...it's all too much to process.

I stumble into my apartment, kicking off my heels and collapsing onto the couch. The lights of my Christmas tree cast a soft glow over the room, but even their cheerful warmth can't calm the butterflies in my stomach.

What am I doing? Falling for Evan, my best friend, the man I've known for half my life? It's a recipe for disaster. That kiss is on repeat in my traitorous mind, the way his lips felt against mine, and the press of his muscular body.

My phone buzzes, jolting me out of my thoughts. It's a text from Evan.

"Sweet dreams, Mer. Can't wait to see you tomorrow."

I stare at the screen, my heart racing. Tomorrow. The charity rugby match. I'll have to face Evan again, to work alongside him like nothing has changed. Wverything has changed, hasn't it?

I bite down before typing out a response.

"Sweet dreams, Ev. Let's make this the best match Love Beach has ever seen."

I hit send before I can second-guess myself, then toss my phone aside. Tomorrow will be a new day, a chance to figure out what this thing between Evan and me means. I'll let myself drift off to sleep with the memory of his kiss still lingering on my lips.

The morning arrives in a burst of sunlight and birdsong, the crisp December air invigorating as I step outside. I breathe it in, to center myself before the chaos of the day begins.

The rugby pitch is already a hive of activity when I arrive, volunteers bustling about with clipboards and walkie-talkies. Evan is in the middle of it all sporting his old team jersey.

He jogs over, a grin spreading across his face. "Morning, Mer. Ready to make some magic happen?"

I return his smile, my nerves melting away in the face of his easy confidence. "You know it. Let's do this."

Just like that, we're back in sync, working side by side to make sure everything runs. It's almost scary how we fall into our old rhythm, anticipating each other's needs and moving in perfect harmony.

There's a new undercurrent to our interactions now, a crackle of electricity that wasn't there before. Every brush of Evan's hand against mine, every shared glance and inside joke, feels charged with meaning.

By the time the match kicks off, I'm buzzing with a mixture of excitement and nerves. The stands are packed with cheering fans, the air thick with anticipation.

Evan pulls me into a quick hug before jogging out onto the field. "Wish me luck, Mer. I've got a feeling I'm going to need it today."

I laugh shoving him. "Since when do you need luck, Mr. Hot Shot? Go out there and show them how it's done."

He winks, then he's gone, lost in a sea of burly rugby players.

The whistle blows, and the game begins. It's a whirlwind of action from the start, bodies colliding and balls flying, but through it all, I can't take my eyes off Evan.

He moves like a dancer, graceful and powerful, dodging defenders and making impossible plays look easy. He's in his element out there, confident and commanding.