11. Ro
After a restless night, my crochet still refused to behave or come together in any semblance of owl-ness. With a tut, I pulled at the yarn more vigorously than necessary. My entire body ached.
I’d woken at dawn with my sheets wrapped around my legs as if I’d been tossed around in a dryer of delicious anguish. While the pale morning light had crept through my window, I’d run through scenarios in my head. Outlined what could have happened had Odd Duck not interrupted Brody’s and my spontaneous bout in the ring. None had ended with a happily ever after.
I now sat on my bed with unpicked orange yarn spread over my legs. I hadn’t yet left my room in case I ran into Brody. Facing him wasn’t something I wanted to risk. Not until I’d settled my brain and traitorous body into a calmer state. One that ran less chance of me making a total fool of myself.
The door to my room thumped open, hitting the wall.
“Do we need to write an obituary?” Eve erupted into my room, all candy floss hair and sparkly hair clips. “I assume it was a mercy killing.” She gestured to the carnage in my lap.
I scoffed. “It was supposed to be an owl, but it looked more like a hand grenade.”
She slipped her bag from her shoulder and plopped down on the patchwork quilt. The sun streamed in through my curtains casting her in vivid technicolor. “What’s got you so annoyed?”
I threw her an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, come on, Ro. I haven’t seen a jaw as tight as yours since that dude from The Vampire Diaries was on TV. You forget I know you very well, and today, you are the epitome of tension.”
There was no point lying to Eve. Pretending that it was only my crochet that had me frowning. I gathered up and tossed the bird nest of yarn to the side, throwing myself back on my pillows. “If you must know, it’s Brody Flockhart.”
Eve’s eyes lit up like sparklers, and she crossed her legs like a yogi. “Oooh. My favorite subject. What intel have you got for me? Any nighttime comings and goings? Any hints about his movements? His kinks?”
I huffed out a breath, coming back up to sit. How could I tell my best friend that most of his movements seemed to involve me at the moment? She’d read far too much into the situation.
“Are you serious? Are you really interested in Brody? In that way.”
Eve tossed her eyeballs heavenward. “Alas, I don’t think I’m what Flock is into.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I bumped into him at the diner earlier.”
Something pricked the skin at the back of my neck. It was Wednesday. I’d told him Eve and I met at the Easy Swallow every Wednesday for breakfast. I hadn’t mentioned that we’d agreed to meet at my place today. Yet, according to Eve, he’d been at the Swallow right when he expected me to be there. I ran a hand through my sleep-mussed hair.
“Bumped?” My voice rang out into the room, its tone unnaturally high.
Eve grinned. “Well, I may or may not have faked a trip into his arms, and although he caught me, there was nothing but genuine concern for my safety in his eyes. Even when I suggested I might need mouth-to-mouth, he just laughed.”
I snorted a laugh, too, shaking my head. My best friend was all kinds of crazy.
“Hey, I had to try. But I’ve given up on my hopeless quest now. I’ve decided that Brody Flockhart and I won’t be a thing. I’ve moved on. But when I fell, man, those arms. I swear he could fold me into a pretzel in one move.”
Heat steadily crept up my face as my mind drifted back to the gym last night. The achingly vivid memory of him grappling me into hot submission at the ropes. His breath on my neck. I swallowed, afraid of what would come out of my mouth if I opened it.
Eve leaned over to retrieve the brown paper bag she’d placed on the bed. The sweet smell of warm cinnamon filled the air when she opened it. She tore open the sides and laid it between us. As she pulled apart one sticky bun, her brow creased like I’d asked a calculus question in Swahili. “You must have noticed how unnaturally big he is?”
Indeed, I had. He was so large I swear he cast a shadow almost as big as Mount Condor, Tuft Swallows’ only hill. I weighed my words carefully, hoping not to give too much away. I couldn’t help it, though. For some insane reason, all I wanted to do was talk about Brody. “I probably shouldn’t say this because he’s staying here, and we’re old friends, but he is quite impressive. Physically.”
Eve’s eyes widened, and I reached for a bun. Perhaps I could use it to cram any more revealing words back down my throat.
“That’s an understatement. I never remember him being that big before, but I guess that’s what playing professional sports will do for you.”
Again, memories of the gym torpedoed into my brain. The jabs, the taunting, the fire in his eyes as he’d pulled me into his chest. I took a breath.
“He works out. A lot.”
Eve’s eyes glowed, and a grin spread on her sugary lips as she scooched herself closer. “You’ve seen him? In all his sweaty glory, I mean.”
I crinkled my nose. “Eve, that’s gross.”
“Not when it’s his sweat. Have you? Seen him working out, I mean.” She sucked in a breath with a little “whoosh.” “Oh, please tell me you’ve installed a spy camera down in the basement. Coop has a gym set up down there, right?”
Okay, so things were taking a slightly darker tone. “No spy camera, but I have seen him in the gym. At Odd Duck’s place.”
Eve tipped her head to one side. “What on earth were you doing there? Fighting’s hardly your scene. You’re such a pacifist. You’re the one who’s always rescuing bugs from the sidewalk or keeping the peace at the town bake-offs. Who knew brownies could be so controversial? I swear you saved lives last fall.”
I weighed my options. I could lie and make up a story about researching crochet boxing gloves or I could tell the truth.
“Brody’s training me.”
She took a bite of her bun. “What for? MMA? I admire your spirit, but I don’t think you have the shoulders for it.”
Brody had hinted at the same thing. “No. For the roller derby.”
She stopped mid-chew. “Why would he do that?”
Well, obviously, Eve didn’t suspect Brody had any ulterior motive. “I don’t know. He found your flier, and when I told him what it was for, he thought I should try out.”
“But how did you get from that to him training you?”
I shrugged, feigning innocence. “I hadn’t exactly agreed to anything, but then he turned up at the Plume, presented me with a pair of skates, told me he was going to coach me, and marched me off to the gym.”
Eve’s mouth dropped. “Holy hell, girl. You and Brody Flockhart went to the gym together?”
It was as if she’d heard no other part of my explanation.
“And what happened?”
“You know, nothing. Much. Just gym stuff.”
She shook her head, pink curls dancing around her face. “Details, please. You don’t get to go to the gym with a certified ‘sex god’ and not tell me everything.” Eve reached up and wrapped air quotes around the words sex-god.
I giggled. Talking about Brody felt a little naughty and a little forbidden, as if I was admitting my first crush to my best friend. In fact, wasn’t that exactly what I was doing? Only a long time after the fact.
“Well, he showed me some exercises and…”
“And?”
“And then I elbowed him in the balls and threw water over him.”
Eve’s face moved from shock to delight. From open mouth to wide grin.
“What the hell?”
“I know.” My half-eaten bun stuck at the back of my throat, and I hung my head a little. “I couldn’t have made more of a fool of myself.”
“What did he say? What did he do?”
Did I dare tell her? I was already wading through a deep pool of humiliation, but Gran always said go big or go home. “He took his top off and asked me to punch him.”
“What?” Eve squealed at the top of her lungs as if someone had stabbed her with a cattle prod.
Before I could explain and make his actions seem reasonable, Gran busted into the room with a frown on her wrinkled brow.
“You okay, ladies?”
I held a breath. What had she heard? Thinking as fast as Usain Bolt on a sprint, Eve spun around with a grin on her face. “Yes, thank you. I was just telling Ro I’ve volunteered for the yodeling choir. We’re going to sing at the Oktoberfest party. I was showing Ro what I’d learned so far.”
Gran raised her eyebrows as if digesting the information. “Lovely. But if you don’t mind me saying so, you sounded pitchy, dear. I’d suggest gargling salt and less starch in your diet. Works for me.” With a wave of her hand, Gran backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Eve giggled. “Your Gran is wonderful.”
My heart warmed. “Isn’t she?”
“So,” she said, returning to her questioning. “You punched him?”
I bit into my bottom lip. “A little.”
“And how did it feel?”
How could I describe it? Forbidden, sexy, confusing. No. None of those adjectives covered how strangely exciting punching him had felt. “He’s big and hard, and…”
“And?” She paused and narrowed her eyes at me. “Ro, you’re blushing. Holy crap! Don’t tell me you’re drinking the Flock Kool-Aid now, too?”
“No!” The word came out like a yelp. “But it’s hard not to notice him. I mean, he’s around a lot, and he’s hardly an eyesore.”
Eve whistled. “No, indeed, he’s not.”
“But he’s still Brody, you know? The guy who patched up my knees when I scraped them climbing trees. The guy who teased me when I got braces.”
“Ro, you’re only human.” Her lips curved. “And being in the face of such human perfection, even Mother Theresa would be tempted. It’s okay to have a crush on him. A temporary infatuation. He’ll be gone soon and you can go back to normal. But If you need anyone to hold your hand and talk through this traumatic experience, I’m here for you any time. And do you mind if I bring a pen and paper? Hearing about your close encounters with Brody is the nearest I’ll ever get to touching him myself.”
I sighed, smoothing down the patchwork quilt where I’d gripped it. Eve was right. Brody was just a temptation. A temporary distraction from my small-town life. But try as I might, he kept creeping into my thoughts regularly. Creeping and settling in. Nudging out the idea that I shouldn’t be lusting after him. It looked like it wasn”t just my body that needed strengthening. It was my resolve.