Chapter 13 Ollie
OLLIE
I almost kissed Phoebe—twice. Stupid snowplow. Finally snuck in a kiss on the cheek, but it’s not enough. For the first time, I wish I had kissed someone along the way so I’d know what the hell I was doing. What’s the point of waiting for the right person if I don’t know what to do with her?
Phoebe’s experienced. She isn’t going to put up with me fumbling around and being insecure.
A woman as beautiful as Phoebe can have any man she wants.
She can have someone smooth who knows how to please a woman.
Why would she want me, a virgin who doesn’t have a clue?
I mean, I know the basics—not that porn is the best way to learn what realistic intimacy looks like, but I know enough.
You hear stuff in the locker room and on buses to games.
A lot of it is bullshit, but some is helpful.
My uncle has a dude ranch in eastern Oregon, and I worked there during the summer.
I’d help break horses for the saddle. I hate the term “break.” I prefer to think of it as exposing them to the saddle and helping them adjust. You must be patient with the horses and get them used to your presence and the weight of the equipment.
That’s what I’m trying to do with Phoebe. Get her used to me being around as her roommate, sharing space. Sneak in little touches here and there, like how we ended up holding hands on our walk. Building up to hugs and eventually deeper feelings and greater intimacy.
God forbid she ever knows I’m treating her like a horse. That’s probably a mood killer.
“What’s so funny?” Phoebe asks as she pauses in lifting a spoonful of soup to her lips.
“Huh?”
“You’re staring off into space and smiling, and the way your shoulders were shaking, I figure you’re laughing to yourself.”
“Oh.” I look down into my soup bowl, where I’m idly stirring it with my spoon. “I was thinking about horses.”
“That’s random. Do you ride?” Her lips are glistening from the soup.
“Yeah, my uncle has a dude ranch back home in Oregon. I worked with the horses there in the summer.”
A big, beautiful smile crosses Phoebe’s face, and my heart stutters.
She’s so lovely. “I grew up riding horses! Totally horse crazy. I did dressage. I was never going to the Olympics or anything like that, but I enjoyed it while I did it. I stopped as I was starting high school and getting involved with boys and other things.”
And my heart drops with a thud. Getting involved with boys. She’s been there, done that with clueless guys. She’s not going to want to go through that again while I try to get up to speed.
“Cool,” I say, tasting the soup. “Hmm…this is good.”
She cocks her head and gives me a wtf look.
“What?” I ask.
Shrugging, she picks up her sandwich. “I don’t know, it was a weird change of subject. We were talking horses, and then you’re talking about soup.”
“I like the soup and wanted you to know that. We can talk about horses more if you want. Do you have a favorite breed?”
Her sigh is a smidge shy of exasperation, and I don’t know why.
“I’ve never ridden one, but I think Lipizzaners are gorgeous.
My grandparents took us to a show once when they were on tour.
Those white stallions are so graceful. It was breathtaking.
It’s like watching ballet. I think dressage is beautiful already, but to see it performed by those horses is on a whole other level.
What about you? Do you have a favorite breed? ”
The way her face lights up talking about these horses makes me wish I was an equine shifter instead of a Bigfoot. I make a mental note to see if there’s a tour this year so I can take her to see them.
“Friesians. They’re elegant, and they’re big enough that I don’t feel like I’m a burden. My uncle has a couple he uses for carriage driving for special events like weddings or whatever. But I’ve ridden them with a saddle too, and they were good mounts.”
Conversation drops off, and we eat our lunch in silence.
It’s not the companionable silence we usually have.
This is awkward. Did I do something wrong?
Should I have not kissed her on the cheek?
She kissed mine before we went for our walk, so I thought it would be okay to kiss hers too.
I wish I wasn’t so clueless about this stuff.
“Do you still want to go by your condo this afternoon?” I ask to jumpstart the conversation.
She nods. “Yeah, if that’s okay?”
“Of course it’s okay. Let me go put a couple boxes in your car before we go.” I rise from the table and take my dishes to the sink to rinse and load in the dishwasher. I do Phoebe’s too when she carries them over.
“Anything you want to take back?” I ask. “I’ll grab that too.”
Finn and Shelby will be back tomorrow evening, so tonight is Phoebe’s last overnight here. Mine too.
Within fifteen minutes, we have Phoebe’s car loaded with stuff and are on the way to her condo. It’s only a few miles from the cottage, but it’s like returning to civilization. So far removed from traffic and people, the cottage feels like an entirely different world. I miss it.
I pull into a housing complex full of condos and townhouses surrounded by woods.
It’s only a few miles from Finn’s house, but with all the people walking the trails throughout the complex and going into their homes from the parking lot, it feels like I’m on another planet.
I know it’s across the street from the shopping village Phoebe’s bakery is in, but I can’t see it from here.
I park in the spot Phoebe tells me to, then get out and grab a couple of boxes to take in.
“Hey, King!”
I turn my head and see Alvarez waving. I lift my chin in greeting.
“Hey,” I say in return.
“Moving in?” he asks as Andie comes from across the parking lot and is hugging Phoebe like it’s been four years since they’ve seen each other.
“Dropping some stuff off to get it out of my brother’s house,” I say.
Alvarez holds out his arms. “Give me those, I’ll give you a hand.”
“I’m okay, thanks.”
“King, we help each other. It’s the Devil Birds’ way. Give me a box.”
Ugh. They really do take this team is a family thing seriously. “Thanks. Grab whatever you want.”
He follows me into Phoebe’s first-floor condo.
“Where should we put the boxes?” I ask Phoebe as we walk in.
“Your room is over there.” Phoebe points to an open door. I catch the glance Andie and Alvarez give each other. I know they heard the fiancé bit in the hospital, but they probably realized it was Phoebe being loopy on the pain meds. Whatever. It’s nobody’s business where I’m sleeping.
“Thanks,” I say and follow Alvarez.
“There’s an optional skate tomorrow. I can give you a ride if you need it,” Alvarez says as we join Phoebe and Andie in the living room.
I scratch the back of my neck and look away, my eyes naturally landing on Phoebe. She must recognize my discomfort.
“That’s so nice of you, Colby,” Phoebe says, jumping in to answer and rescue me. “Ollie can take my car. I can’t drive anyway. And we’re going to be at the cottage, so that’s out of the way for you.”
I nod. “And there’s a coffee shop and a bookstore, I think. My plan was to invite Phoebe along so she gets out and about while we’re at practice.” I turn to Phoebe. “We could have dinner at one of the restaurants. I still have the suite at Devil’s Den, so we can get ready there, stay over…”
“Ooh, yeah, I’d like that. I’ve never stayed there,” Phoebe says with a sweet smile.
“I wish I didn’t have to work tomorrow,” Andie says. “I’d come along so we can hang out during practice.” She flushes hotly. “Only practice! Not trying to crash your date or have a slumber party.”
We all laugh at that.
As the laughter dies, Colby says, “You two will be hanging out like always when we’re on our road trip next week. Planning for the Pastry Pro Championship.”
“Have you heard back yet?” I ask.
Andie shakes her head, “We’re waiting to hear if we’re selected.
The filming will be in Atlantic City in three weeks, and the winner will get $10,000 and hopefully lots of publicity.
They’re shooting it as a pilot and shopping it around.
If it gets picked up and our episode airs, we’ll have nationwide exposure.
We want to open our boutique bakery for specialty treats and high-end desserts. ”
“You do?” I turn to Phoebe with questioning eyes. “I thought you were happy at the bakery?”
She flushes. “I am. But Jack only wants to do pies, pastries, and simple cakes. Regular everyday stuff. And he does that well. We all do. But Andie is an artist decorating cakes and cookies. I love experimenting with flavors and techniques, and that doesn’t fit in with what Jack wants for Half-Cocked.
He supports us and lets us use the kitchen after hours, but we want our own space and to be independent. ”
I’m surprised by that. I don’t know all the details, but I had the impression that Phoebe and Shelby had money from their parents and grandparents.
I didn’t think $10,000 would make a difference.
Hell, I’d give her the money to make her dream come true.
I’d give her anything in my power to give.
She already has my heart. Giving her everything else is simple.
“Do you want to come over and hang out?” Alvarez asks us. “I don’t have anything planned for the afternoon.”
“Thanks, Colby,” Phoebe says, “but we want to get back to the cottage before nightfall because it’s so dark out there.
Another time?” Phoebe steps beside me and slips her arm around my waist. Immediately, I relax.
I didn’t realize how tense and uncomfortable I was until she grounded me.
I put my arm around her shoulder and rub my thumb back and forth along her upper arm.
She gives a delicate shiver and snuggles closer.
It’s like placing the saddle blanket on the horse’s back and letting them get used to the weight of it.
“Absolutely,” Alvarez says easily. He seems like a nice guy.
We could probably be friends. But what’s the point?
I’m here until the end of the season. No one has said anything about extending my contract.
The team is so stacked that they don’t need me.
Jake kinda admitted they took me so they wouldn’t have to play against me.
It’s flattering, but that doesn’t mean I fit with their long-term plans.
I realize no one is saying anything and everyone is looking at me. I have no idea what they were talking about. Heat floods my cheeks.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I zoned out.”
Phoebe chuckles and gives my waist a squeeze.
“It’s okay,” Andie says. “We were talking about hanging out sometime after you’re moved in and back from your road trip.”
“Oh, okay.” I nod.
Phoebe flashes me a grin. She knows I’m not a hanging-out kind of guy.
Yeah, I always want to hang out with Phoebe.
And usually with my brother and Shelby. But mostly I’m happy being by myself if I’m not playing hockey.
Building LEGO, playing video games, playing the piano, nothing that requires other people.
It’s not that I want to be alone. I long to be married and have a family someday.
But I don’t need a crowd of people, I simply need my people.
And I truly believe that Phoebe Albright is my person.
Now to get her to see that I’m her person in return.
I don’t need hockey as much as I need Phoebe.
There are grad schools in New Jersey. The local university has a program that looks good.
“Well,” Alvarez says, “we’ll let you guys do your thing. King, the offer stands if you want to carpool tomorrow. Anytime, really. I know things have been crazy with the trade, Phoebe’s wrist, the storm, everything. It’ll calm down.”
I shake the hand he holds out, even though that means I need to take it from around Phoebe’s shoulder. Of course, I put my arm back around her shoulder as soon as the handshake ends. Phoebe kept her arm around my waist like she wants to be next to me.
“Thanks,” I say. “I’m looking forward to having a successful playoff season.”
Alvarez and Andie leave, so Phoebe and I are finally alone in what’s going to be our home.
“Want the grand tour?” she asks.
I nod. “Sure.”
She removes her arm from around my waist and steps out from under my arm. I miss her.
“This is the living room,” she says, sweeping the space with her injured arm.
“You have a fireplace? That’s awesome!” I’m imagining snuggling with Phoebe in front of a fire. I’d be okay having a nor’easter all day, everyday, if it snowed me in with Phoebe and gave us a reason to cuddle.
She walks over and flips a switch, and the fire lights.
I prefer a wood-burning fireplace, but appreciate the convenience of gas.
My future house will have a wood-burning fireplace—I like chopping wood.
I’ll live in the woods, so there will be a ready supply.
But for now, gas will do. It’s the snuggle that’s important.
I’d settle for a fireplace video on the TV and a space heater.
Phoebe’s gray sofa has a chaise at one end, which would be nice to spread out on with a blanket.
“Dining room.” She points to a white wooden table that seats six. “The kitchen is smaller than I’d like, but it’s functional.”
It looks okay to me, but I’m not a professional. It’s clean. I’m sure she’d like to have more counter space and maybe an island.
“It looks good,” I say reassuringly, rubbing her back. She leans against my hand slightly when I rest it at the small of her back. I can’t hold back the grin that surfaces, and Phoebe looks up, catching it.
“What?” she asks. “Why are you smiling?”
I shrug. “I’m happy.”
Her brow furrows, and she tilts her head. It’s adorable, like a dog trying to figure out where the ball went when you pretend to throw it but hide it behind your back.
“Why?”
I reach up to run a finger along her cheek. “Because I’m with you.”
Her lashes flutter and her breath catches. This is it, Ollie. You can do this. I start to lower my head toward Phoebe’s. Her eyes close, and I’m inches away from her lips. Finally.
Knock, knock, knock.