Chapter 24 Phoebe #2
“Let me give you a copy of the keys to the condo. Do you have a special design you want or a plain key?” I ask, looking at the rack of colored keys, some of them with logos of sports teams or cartoon characters on them.
“This one,” Ollie says, reaching over my shoulder to grab a green key with Scooby Doo on it.
Aww. “You’re a Scooby fan?”
He nods. “Yeah, it’s my mom’s favorite cartoon, so she introduced me to it. All of us, actually, but I’m the one who likes it the most. Finn never wanted to sit still long enough to watch, and Violet likes the anime-style cartoons. She’d probably like the current series. I like the classic ones.”
I ask the question that will make or break our relationship. “How do you feel about Scrappy?”
The curl of disgust that forms on his kissable lips tells me all I need to know. This is the man I want to marry and raise a family with.
“Scrappy sucks.”
I throw my arms around his neck and press a quick—too quick—kiss to his mouth. “Oliver King, you know exactly what to say to win my heart.”
He huffs out a laugh. “If I knew that was all it took, I would’ve done that a couple of years ago.”
He’s joking. I think. But his words still make me want to cry.
What if he really did want me romantically and had said something before?
We could be truly engaged now. Maybe even married.
Talking about having babies. Shelby and I didn’t have cousins—our parents were only children.
Mom’s from Ireland, so maybe we have distant relatives, but her parents died before she moved to the US and met our father.
I’d love it if we had kids close in age so they could grow up together.
“Do you have a lot of cousins?” I ask Ollie as the machine cuts his key.
He scratches his beard. “A fair amount. Lily and her sister Poppy are the ones we’re closest to because our mothers are sisters and our fathers are brothers.”
“Wait. Brothers married sisters? Seriously?”
He’s so cute when his brow furrows. And the way it clears when he makes the connection. “Oh, yeah. Like us. Brothers marrying sisters. I guess it’s family tradition now.” He gently bumps my shoulder with his biceps.
That he says it so matter-of-factly, like of course it’s going to happen, brings a rush of tears to my eyes. Shelby and I don’t have any traditions from our family. That this could be our first would be wonderful.
I don’t want to cry in the middle of the supermarket, so I hand Ollie his key and push the cart into the main part of the store and start shopping.
“Text me if there’s anything you want me to have on hand when you get home,” I say over my shoulder as I grab a jug of milk.
“I will,” Ollie says, scrunching his nose as I put my favorite frozen entrees into the cart. “You went to the best culinary school in the world and you’re buying this frozen stuff? You fed us at the cottage. Don’t you cook for yourself?”
Now it’s my turn to make a face. “I went to school for pastry and bread making, not cooking meat and stuff. And for me, it’s not worth all the work to prep, cook, and clean up.”
“If I sign us up for a meal prep service where they deliver everything and we only have to heat it up, would you eat it?” He reads the ingredients on the red box of my favorite frozen macaroni and cheese and puts it back in the cart.
“They have a lot of these meals, but fresher and more nutritious. I have a meal plan I follow to make sure I’m well-fueled for how active I am.
We could cook together, or I could cook if you want. I’ll be doing it for myself anyway.”
I shrug. “Send me a link so I can see what they have. No promises.”
He runs his hand down my back, causing a shiver I’ll let him think is from being in the frozen foods aisle.
“I’ll ask around the team and see who they use locally and send you links.
” He gives my waist a light squeeze before removing his hand.
“I’m not trying to change anything about you, Phoebe.
You’re perfect how you are. Only trying to figure out ways to make living together easier. ”
“I know, Ollie. Can I be honest with you?”
His eyes sharpen as they meet mine.
“Always, Phoebe. You can tell me anything.”
“Talking about what I eat makes me really defensive. I know I’m fat.”
“Don’t say that! You’re beautiful,” Ollie insists.
I giggle. “I didn’t say I was ugly, only that I’m fat. Or plus size. Or…”
“Deliciously curvy,” he growls in my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I’ve gotten to cuddle you the past couple of nights, I’m kind of an expert.”
He presses a kiss on my cheek, causing my knees to weaken. Thank goodness I can hold onto the cart to keep me upright.
We finish our shopping and load our groceries into the car.
“Do you want to drive?” Ollie asks as he shuts the back hatch. “Make sure your wrist is okay enough for it before I go.”
Not what I expected to be asked, but okay.
“Sure. You aren’t afraid of my driving?”
He shakes his head. “No. Why? Should I be?”
“No. I’m a good driver. I’m just used to guys always wanting to drive.”
“I don’t care which one of us drives as long as we both get there. I’m happy to drive if you want me to, but I’m comfortable with you taking the wheel.”
Why do I feel like we’re covering multiple levels of conversation? And with no time to hash things out.
I drive us home without incident. My wrist feels fine. I’ll probably go back to work this weekend, even if they only need me working the counter. I can’t sit home alone, I’ll go crazy.
In the hour and a half before Ollie leaves, he goes through his stuff to make sure he has what he needs for the next three days and hangs up his dress clothes in his closet.
The players in the PHL wear suits when they arrive at games, and Ollie has a gorgeous wardrobe.
Other than Finn and Shelby’s wedding and last night, I’ve never seen Ollie dressed up in person.
Pictures on social media of team arrivals from when he was on the Sasquatch did not prepare me for seeing him freshly showered and dressed in a navy-blue suit with a crisp white shirt.
The little bit of chest hair is visible in the open neckline of his shirt again, and it still makes me melt.
I make us French toast and bacon so Ollie has some real food in his belly before he leaves. The team is taking a chartered bus to New York, so they aren’t getting served a meal. I feel like a mom packing for a field trip. I make him a ham-and-cheese sandwich and pack some cookies and bottled water.
“Phoebe, they aren’t going to let us go hungry. There will be drinks and snacks on the bus. It’s only a few hours. We won’t starve. We’ll eat when we get to New York. If we aren’t fueled, we can’t perform.”
I keep busy, rinsing our dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. If I stop, I’m going to get teary and clingy and beg him not to go. How do the loved ones of the team deal with this all the time?
Ollie was worried I wouldn’t go to his home games because of going to bed early, and here I am, wishing I could go to all of them. It’s not that I’m a big hockey fan, it’s that I’m an Oliver King fan.
“Hey, are you okay?” Ollie asks me a few minutes before it’s time to leave.
How am I supposed to answer? I don’t want to look like a stage five clinger—it’s ridiculous to feel this strongly about him leaving. And I don’t want him worrying about anything other than playing the best hockey he can.
“Yeah.” I swallow heavily. Shit. I only need to last ten more minutes until I can break down in private, but I’m not going to make it. I can’t blink fast enough to hold back the tears.
“Phoebe, what’s wrong? Don’t cry.” Ollie pulls me into an embrace and gently rocks back and forth. He makes comforting shushing noises in my ear and rests his cheek against my temple. His beard is soft.
I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on. The way his hand rubs up and down my back is so soothing, I want to stretch and luxuriate in it like Marsha does when she gets an especially good pet.
“I’m going to miss you,” I mumble against his chest. He stops everything he’s doing and is still like a statue. Shit. I should have kept my mouth shut.
“You will?” he asks.
Leaning back, I meet his brown eyes full of surprise. “Of course I will. We’re finally together, and it’s been just the two of us these past few days. It’s going to be lonely not having you to talk to. Being alone.”
He gently brushes a tear from my cheek.
“Shelby and Finn are home. Andie is here. You’ll be getting ready for the show.
You’re not going to have time to miss me.
But I’m going to miss you too.” He presses a kiss to my forehead.
I wish he’d aimed five or six inches lower and landed on my lips.
“I’m excited to play with a new team, but I’m nervous.
What if I don’t fit in? What if I screw up and make us lose?
What if they don’t like me and it’s like the Sasquatch all over again? ”
It's my turn to comfort him. “Ollie, they already like you. You’re going to play great. You’re right, I will be okay, but I’m going to miss you.”
His deep sigh presses our chests together even more, and my nipples pebble. “How am I going to sleep not holding you?” he whispers.
My breath catches. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? “Same.”
I’m stone-cold sober. There’s no reason to not kiss now. Thank goodness Ollie is on the same wavelength because his lips lower to mine.
And then there’s a knock on the door. I want to ignore it, but it’s time for Ollie to leave, and I can’t add to his stress by making him late. I give him a way-too-brief kiss and then pull out of his embrace and open the door. Colby is on my porch. He glances between us and grimaces.
“Sorry to interrupt, Phoebe.” He looks over my shoulder to address Ollie. “Bedard is riding with us to the bus lot. Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah,” Ollie says. “I’ll be right there.”
Colby steps out, leaving us alone, but there’s no time to take advantage of it.
“Okay if I message you tonight?” Ollie asks.
I laugh. “You better! Don’t worry about the time. But if you are hanging out with the team don’t worry about me. You need to bond with them. You already have me.”
He grabs his bags, and I open the door for him, waving to Burke sitting in Colby’s SUV.
“Talk to you tonight. Be safe, Phoebe. I’ll miss you.”
I hug him and give him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth before stepping back. “I’ll miss you too, Ollie. Talk to you tonight. Have fun. You deserve this.”
My heart wants to say I love you instead of I’ll miss you, but I don’t want to do that as he’s walking out the door.
Maybe he heard it anyway because his eyes soften and he leans in for a quick kiss before going down the steps and loading his stuff into Colby’s vehicle.
Ollie waves before climbing in the back behind the driver’s seat, and on impulse, I blow him a kiss before waving back.
Colby gives a little beep-beep with his horn as he pulls away, and Burke waves.
I can’t stand the emptiness. I can’t stay here.
I go back inside, wash my face, and brush my hair.
I grab my keys so I can walk to the bakery and talk to Jack about getting some hours this weekend.
The quiet here is too loud. It’s only a ten-minute walk, and Andie will give me a ride home after her shift.
Maybe we can have a girls’ night and discuss the show.
I’ll take whatever distraction I can get. This next week can’t pass fast enough.