Chapter 17 #2
It was a quick visit for Barry’s parents before they left back to Canada, the lovely freaking people.
After the game we went to, Jeremy sent me a video of the broadcast that showed a replay of Barry’s goal, his pointing to the crowd, and then a view of me and his parents jumping for him.
The color commentator, Tyler, speculated that I was a friend of Barry’s.
“Good for him, he needs a friend,” the play-by-play commentator remarked. “We love having him in Utah, so I hope he’s felt welcome here.”
I watched the video more times than I would admit to anyone—it was just that with his grin and pointing toward us in the arena, he looked so happy and so handsome, like a fucking hockey superstar.
I couldn’t believe he was living in my house, accidentally leaving some facial hair in my sink, cooking meals for me, scooping my cat’s litter box, father to my unborn baby.
Tuesday was a game day for Barry, but he still insisted on taking me to work.
I told him he couldn’t keep helping me clean unless I was especially uncomfortable, and he begrudgingly agreed.
Today he dropped me off, slept in the lounge for a couple hours, then checked out a yoga studio nearby.
When we got back to the house after my shift, I unbuttoned my overalls and held them up at my waist before I plopped down next to him on the couch, both of us using his air mattress as a makeshift ottoman.
“She got the bassinet?” I asked, incredulous. Gen and Stuart had been doing some shopping from the baby registry Kate and I put together last month. “But she’s bought so many things already.”
“She couldn’t help herself. It’ll be here Tuesday.”
“And the rocking chair?”
“My siblings went in on that one.”
Very generous of them, they learned from their mother, no doubt.
It was even a nicer chair than the one I’d listed since Barry’s sister-in-law called to advise Barry that he not cut corners on a good rocking chair.
Nonnegotiable, she’d told him, and sent a few options of ones that I’d like better.
I picked a dark brown one and pretended the price tag didn’t make me blanch.
“She also picked out ten outfits because she couldn’t help herself.
” Barry sunk lower on the couch until his head was level with mine resting on the back of the couch.
I rolled my neck to look at him and was too sleepy to feel embarrassed about our faces being so close together.
Close enough that one of us would only need to scoot a little to kiss—not that I was thinking about kissing Barry Wright.
“I fall victim to the clothes, too,” I muttered.
The problem was that baby clothes are very cute, and there is probably something in human DNA to make us melt imagining our progeny wearing it.
Kate, Dad, Mom, and even Barry showed up with at least one article of baby clothing per week.
Her wardrobe was going to be infinitely more comprehensive and stylish than mine.
“Now we just need a car seat and a stroller,” he said, and I groaned.
There were so many options, and each one had hundreds of decisive reviews about why they were the best one.
We’d already spent hours consulting the sites.
I was about ready to just take his sister-in-law’s recommendation and call it good, but I could tell that Barry was trying to be thoughtful about the research, which made me want to be discerning as well.
“Never had to make so many decisions in my life.” I looked up to find Barry staring intently at my lips, as I often caught him doing these days. My heart rate increased immediately, and his lips parting made me feel unsteady. I coughed and leaned back, chest hot.
These little moments were growing more frequent—lingering glances, easy smiles, the all-around essence of him seeping into my walls. It was overwhelming and confusing.
“I think we shouldn’t be roommates anymore,” I said, but there was no decision behind it.
Barry raised both eyebrows, not believing me for a second. “Oh?”
“Yeah it’s, um, I think we are in a pressure cooker.”
“Go on.”
I waved fruitlessly between us. “Were you thinking about kissing me?”
He blinked, dropped his head to the left, then shrugged. “Was thinking about it.”
“And see, that’s the problem.”
Barry’s dimples made their appearance and he sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees toward me. “Were you not thinking about it?”
“No, obviously I—” I cut off and shook my head. “This is exactly why we shouldn’t spend so much time around each other. Hormones are out of whack, emotions are…elevated, it’s probably very normal to want to have sex with each other.”
“You want to have sex with me, Harvey?”
I made a startled noise in the back of my throat and drank half a glass of water before I could start choking.
“It’s just—you being here, and being so…tall and hot and nice and good at cooking, it’s distracting. And confusing me. I’m confused, I think.”
“Confusing how?” he asked, amusement sparkling in those damn hazel eyes.
“My mind knows very clearly that getting involved is a bad idea—”
“And why is that again?”
“—but my body, on the other hand, keeps wanting to do many bad and irresponsible things.”
“What kind of things?”
“The kind of things that got us into this mess in the first place.”
Barry smirked, he was way too satisfied with this news. I dropped my face into my hands and let out a long groan. He was impossible. This whole situation was.
“Hey, hey, come on.” Barry put his hand on my knee, and I peered up at him between my fingers. “If you want me to leave—really want me to go—of course I will.”
I dropped my hands back into my lap, and Barry leaned closer still. My breath caught, too loud and clear to play it off as anything other than being put as off balance as he always seemed to make me.
“But I don’t think you do, really,” he said, and his eyes were back on my mouth. I made a concerted effort not to bite my lip.
“No?”
“No, Harvey.” Barry came closer, and I thought he really might kiss me, but instead he just reached past me for the blanket spread out over the air mattress.
He lay back against the couch, same as he was before, but his leg was pressed fully against mine now.
He nodded for me to do the same and, tentatively, I did, matching my position to his and letting him cover us both with the blanket.
He gave a big yawn, that smirk still present.
“I say you sleep on it, though. Decide later.”
I chuffed a laugh and pulled the blanket up over my shoulders. The heat of his body was a comfort to me.
“You’re going to distract me with a delicious lunch, I see right through your nefarious schemes.”
“My schemes are never nefarious,” he murmured, and his eyes were already closed. Junior jumped up and settled onto the spot where our thighs met. “Take a nap, Hannah.”
“Your parents are really lovely,” I said, almost a whisper.
“You’re lovely,” Barry said, or I think he did. I was already drifting to sleep.