9. Capricious Bastards
9
CAPRICIOUS BASTARDS
Nate
Did that happen?
Those five minutes when Hunter walked straight out of my daydreams and into my night already feel like a mirage.
I still can’t quite believe he showed up in the stadium with that cheeky grin that made my stomach flip.
Feels unreal, especially since it’s business as usual an hour later back at home. My bed calls my name, but my suitcase calls louder, saying fill me up now, you last-minute packer .
As I chat with my sister on FaceTime, I grab a burgundy polo from my closet and toss it on top of the mess of clothes in my luggage. Am I even bringing the right garb on this trip? Dead tired, I ask Amy, “Is it going to be cold in London?”
From the couch in her living room, she rolls her eyes. “It’s nearly midnight. You’re leaving for your trip tomorrow, and you’re asking about the weather now? ”
I pretend to consider her question. “Seems I am,” I say, then I click over to the weather app.
But as I check the temp in London, I’m only half here. The other part of me is wondering if Hunter’s dinner is over. If my exhausted body could possibly rally.
My groaning muscles, used and abused by sixty minutes of hard-charging football, say otherwise. I need a ton of sleep before I fold this frame into an airplane seat tomorrow. Before the concert tomorrow night. Before…anything else in the world.
When I return to Amy, I try to shove thoughts of the missed opportunity away. “Yup. October in London. It’s fiftyish, after all.”
Amy laughs as she snuggles into a corner of her couch, tucked into the pillows. “I could have told you that, Nate.”
“But you chose to mock me instead? So I had to rely on apps,” I tease, then grab another short-sleeve shirt from the closet.
Chatting with Amy is doing double duty—I love talking to her, but our post-game chat tonight helps take my mind off my bad luck. I can’t believe my path crossed with the sexy man I can’t stop thinking about and fate said sorry, sucker .
Dude Luck is a capricious bastard, all right.
Still, as I sling one more shirt into my bag, an idea is starting to form. I let it stew on the back burner and focus on my current predicament as I angle the phone at my suitcase. “Am I missing anything?”
“Seriously? How can I tell from that mess? It’s painful enough watching you pack the night before you leave for a nine-day, two-stop, overseas trip.” She jerks her gaze away, covering her face with horror-movie fingers. “I can’t bear to look.”
Laughing, I regard the pile that I’ll clean up in the morning. Fine, I look like a slob. Contrary to her belief, I do know how to travel since I do it every other weekend. But I love to get her goat. “When else would one pack?” I ask innocently.
“Nate! A few days before. Then you check fifty-three times to make sure you have twenty pairs of underwear for a week.”
“I have twenty-one, so I’m good to go,” I say before a yawn overtakes me, lasting for a good ten seconds.
I flop down on the edge of the bed, almost ready to wrap up the convo.
“You’d better go,” she says gently.
“Yeah, I should crash,” I say, stretching my aching shoulder.
Inquisitively, she gestures to my arm. “Is your shoulder hurting again?”
“Nah.”
“Nate,” she chides.
She always sees through me. “Everything hurts, but that’s the game for you,” I admit. “Maybe I’ll get a massage in the morning before I go. It can’t hurt.”
“Good idea. Do you have a masseur on staff who’ll come to you? And if he’s straight, can you send him down the coast to me next?”
“One, he’s a she. Two, she’s a massage therapist . And three, there are plenty of massage therapists in Los Angeles. Want me to send one to you?”
She arches a brow. “Will he correct my gendered word too?”
I laugh. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t speak if you don’t want him to.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “As long as he likes me, that’d be a good start.”
My heart still hurts for her, for the way her marriage ended, but she’s taken it in her stride. Still, I hope she’ll find a guy who adores her. At the very least, I want her to have some fun. “Ames, are you sure you don’t want to come to Vegas this weekend? Bryan will be there. And doesn’t Sebastian have the kids?”
She sighs sadly. “He does. Say hi to my bestie Bryan for me. But I think I’m going to stay here in La La Land. Watch Sweet Nothings. Find out if?—”
I hold up a hand, silencing any spoilers about the mega hit we’re addicted to. “Don’t say a word about the Josie and Sam storyline. Don’t spoil what happens on the show. La la la la.”
My sister rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to watch our favorite show without you. I missed the last one when I had the kids, so I need to catch up so we can watch the next episode together.”
“Oh. I stand corrected. Carry on.”
“Anyway, then I’ll do some yoga. Eat some kale. Cruise the apps and lament the options for thirty-year-old divorcees with two kids.”
“Someday, you’re going to meet a guy who worships you,” I say, trying to be upbeat, especially since I fervently believe that.
“In the meantime, a massage would do,” she says, and this time her smile is real, her blue eyes twinkling.
“Love you,” I say, but my eyes are fluttering closed as I end the call.
Still, I fight off sleep. I don’t think I can sleep anyway, with this restless idea jostling its way to the front of my mind.
But first things first. I sit up in bed and tap out a text to my massage therapist, begging her to see me in the morning. She’s up late, so she responds right away with a time and a smiley face.
Then, I order a massage for Amy at a fancy spa near her home in Venice Beach and send her an email gift certificate.
When I’m done, I draw a deep breath and glance around my room, empty like it’s been for months. The suite I booked at The Extravagant tomorrow night will be lonely too.
But it doesn’t have to be.
I re-read Hunter’s last text.
Hunter: It’s not been a year but I’m still single, and if you are too, as luck would have it, I’ll be in San Francisco tonight. Any chance you’re free at all tomorrow? I’ve got the whole day in front of me.
It’s one day, one night, one trip. One moment. I roll the dice and reply.
Nate: I’m taking off for Vegas tomorrow with some friends. We’re going to play poker, see the Lettuce Pray concert, and just generally have fun. You want to come with me? I’ve got a suite at The Extravagant and I can get an extra ticket to the concert. I’m friends with the lead singer and he’s comping all of us.
I read the draft and grimace at how business-like it sounds. Hello, Hunter, would you like to have lunch with me and review my PowerPoint?
I think a moment, then add one more line and hit send.
Nate: If there’s a god of hot, sexy single men, you’ll say yes.