Chapter 7 #2
When my phone dings, my eyes immediately start reading.
Blakely: Hey! How was the flight? I’ll be home for sure. When you’re out of town, we get to work from home, which is always nice. And you got furniture? Oh my God, I told you, you didn’t have to . . . but also . . . please tell me a table was included in that purchase. LOL
A genuine smile passes over my lips as I text her back.
Halsey: Flight was good. Eli was nauseous on the flight for some reason, but other than that, it was smooth. And as for the furniture, I got a dining table that seats six, two lounge chairs, and a loveseat that rocks . . . oh, and a firepit for in front of it.
Blakely: Holy crap. That’s a lot and, even though you didn’t have to do that, I’m positively thrilled. A firepit? I’ll grab the marshmallows and sticks. Was the lounge for you and your reading? If you tell me no, I might cry.
Halsey: I’ll be using them for sure.
Blakely: Thank goodness. You could always use them for some naked sunbathing as well.
Halsey: Not really into that.
Blakely: Yeah, me neither. **sense the sarcasm**
Hell, she can’t tell me that shit, because that’s all I’ll think about when on that lounger now.
Halsey: Look out for peeping Toms.
Blakely: They wouldn’t be looking for me. They’d be looking for Frederick Garrlo.
Halsey: Pretty sure they’d be looking for you.
Blakely: You flatter me. Well, I’ll let the movers in with pleasure.
Also, I watered Sherman today in the sink, as his soil was looking a touch dry.
Once he soaked everything up that he wanted, I gave him some sun time.
I’ll be honest, he’s the easiest, most calm plant I’ve ever had to take care of.
Halsey: Have you taken care of a plant that wasn’t calm?
Blakely: A few. One of those Venus Fly Trap plants.
They’re unruly and rude. And then there was this donkey tail succulent that would shed a tail anytime you looked at it.
I swear to God, they just fell off. My mom was livid when she came home.
I told her I didn’t touch the plant, that it was just revolting since she left.
She didn’t buy it. Fun fact . . . I stroked one of its strands unknowing that the tails easily fall off and they nearly shattered to the ground.
I was so horrified I tried to glue them back, but the plant wouldn’t let me.
Fuck . . . she’s cute. I move toward my suitcase for a pair of shorts as I type her back.
Halsey: Sherman is heartier than that. I don’t think you’ll have any problems with him.
Blakely: I sure hope not. I’d hate to mess up the only job I have when it comes to staying in this apartment.
Which by the way, I had my friend Kenzie over and she was confused at first. She was like.
..this is not a place she would ever picture me in.
She liked it, but I’m more of a white walls, fluffy blankets kind of girl.
Yeah, I could have told you that. My apartment is not particularly welcoming or a place that I could see Blakely wanting to rent, which makes me think, should I add more than just curtains? Was Posey right about a rug? If I got a rug now, would it be obvious that I was trying too hard?
Probably.
I slip my shorts on and type her back.
Halsey: Feel free to change anything you want. I’m not much of a designer. I’m pretty sure I haven’t taken the tags off everything I’ve purchased.
Blakely: Like the whisk? I noticed. It’s okay, I don’t want to disturb your peace. I’m sure you enjoy the minimalistic look.
Halsey: I really don’t care. The only reason it’s so minimalistic is because I haven’t cared enough to do anything to the place. I don’t even have bookshelves for my books. Posey was disgusted when he saw my books stacked up.
I lean back on the mattress of my hotel bed, grateful for the departure from the air mattress back home. Those are made for maybe one or two nights, not as a regular bed, and I’m already feeling it.
Blakely: You don’t have shelves? Halsey Holmes, that’s sacrilege to a book lover. Don’t you know the essentials to anyone who loves to read is a bookmark, a favorite snack, bookshelves, and a guilty pleasure genre that you read and don’t tell anyone about?
Halsey: Guilty pleasure genre? I don’t think I have one of those.
Blakely: Liar. There has to be a type of book you like reading but are slightly embarrassed that you read it. For example, I don’t read much, but I am in the line of reading any autobiography from a reality show personality.
Halsey: Oh . . . well I guess there are a few things that I wouldn’t read in front of the guys.
I like this one author, Lynsay Sands. She writes Scottish romances, and I can’t believe I actually typed that out to you, but yeah.
There’s a series I like, one in particular where the heroine is shot in the boob with an arrow.
Blakely: Uh . . . pardon me?
Oh shit, you idiot.
See, this is what I’m talking about.
She just pulls it out of me. I say stupid things that I probably shouldn’t say.
Halsey: Maybe forget I said that.
Blakely: Ohhhhh no, that won’t be forgotten. You like an arrow to a boob?
Halsey: No! I mean . . . it was funny. Unexpected. Never read anything that had no problem shooting an arrow to a boob is all. I was caught off guard and it stuck with me. I don’t get pleasure over boob mutilation if that’s what you’re thinking.
Blakely: LOL. I was not thinking that, but now that you mention it . . .
Blakely: Just kidding. I don’t think you could hurt a fly, unless you’re on the ice. I’ve seen you check a few guys. That’s if they can keep up with you.
The flattery does obnoxious things for my ego.
Halsey: I’ve been in my fair share of fights. Trust me, I can hurt someone.
Blakely: I don’t believe it.
Halsey: Are you trying to get me to prove it to you?
Blakely: Maybe . . . how good are you at leg wrestling?
Halsey: Don’t even try.
Blakely: I have some powerful legs and hips. I’d give you a run for your money.
Halsey: Like I said, don’t even try.
Blakely: Well, now I feel like this needs to happen when you return. I’d say best of three but I’m not sure my stamina is as good as yours, so I think it’ll have to be all or nothing.
Halsey: Not going to happen. We’re not battling it out in a leg wrestle.
Blakely: Oh that’s cute, you’re scared. Anyway, I know you have to get to bed, get that beauty sleep and rest up those muscles. We need goals tomorrow. I’ll be sure to look out for the delivery. Can’t wait.
Halsey: Thanks. I appreciate it. Have a good night, Blakely.
Blakely: You too!
“What the fuck did you eat today?” OC asks as he sits next to me on the bench, the last minute of the game playing out in front of us.
We’re up four to one, two of the goals being mine, the other two belonging to Silas and OC, both with my assists.
“I can barely keep up with your skating and I’m younger than you. ”
“No need to mention age,” I say as Posey checks someone into the boards, causing the fans to boo. OC, Silas, and I are out of the game, giving our legs a rest, but hell, I think I could go another hour. My adrenaline is pumping, and my body is itching for more action.
“Seriously though, what’s going on with you? Take an upper I don’t know about?”
I shake my head and squirt some water into my mouth as sweat drips down my face, droplets falling off the ends of my hair. “I don’t know, just have a lot of energy.”
“That’s apparent.” He takes a deep breath. “Keeping up with you wore me the fuck out.”
“Maybe you’re out of shape?”
He glares at me. Seeing more of his personality makes me feel like we’ve been friends for longer than a couple of weeks. He feels so familiar, like I’ve known him for years. “I’m not out of shape. I can out lift you any day, outrun you.”
“Clearly you can’t outskate me,” I say, even surprising myself.
“Oh, fucking cocky now?”
The timer counts down from ten seconds, and the guys casually skate around the rink, knowing we’ve secured the W.
When the buzzer goes off, we lift from the bench and hop onto the ice to line up and offer each other fist bumps.
That was an easier win than expected. Usually the Polar Freeze give us more of a headache on the ice.
We head into the locker room but not before offering some fist bumps to fans on our way in.
The clatter of pads and skates sound off in the locker room as we all take seats and start stripping down.
“Fuck, I’m exhausted,” Silas says while glancing over at me. “I swear to God that felt like the most intense scrimmage of my life. What the hell got into you tonight?” He looks my way, and I shrug.
“Just doing my job.”
Silas shakes his head. “No, man, that was another level. Even your passes were faster. They were zipping so fast across the ice that I barely had enough time to react. I probably would have scored two more goals had I been.”
“Same,” OC says. “Keeping up with you was hard tonight.”
“Maybe you two should get your shit together then.”
“Ooo, you hear that?” Pacey says. “Holmes is talking a little smack over there. Not sure we’ve seen that side of him in a while. He’s always like . . . it’s all about the team, I love the team, teammates are great. Yay team.”
I give him an unamused look that makes him laugh.
“You know, he’s right,” Eli says, while tearing his jersey over his head with some help from Posey when it gets stuck on his pads. “You are all about the team, so what’s the difference?”
“Nothing,” I say, but when I glance over at Posey, I know he’s concocting something in his head. He has that puzzling look in his eyes, like he’s trying to solve the world’s greatest math equation.
“Wait . . .” he says, silencing the room. “Is this because of Blakely?”
And there it is.