Chapter 8 #2
“Oooooo,” Penny coos. “Looks like someone is crushing on their new roommate.”
“Oh my God, no, that is the furthest thing from the truth. Sure, he’s attractive, but yeah, there’s nothing romantic there.
Although, he was joking a bit the other morning, and I thought that was nice.
I think he needed to warm up to me, you know?
Maybe trust me with his plant. I don’t know, but he was texting me the other night and joking too. ”
“Joking with you in text? I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him joke. Interesting.” She pauses for a second, almost as if she’s thinking about something. “You know, these last two games, he’s looked different on the ice. Faster, don’t you think?”
“Haven’t noticed.” I shrug.
“Hmm, and you say nothing is going on?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. I wouldn’t go there with him. He’s just . . . different. Not my type emotionally or personality-wise. But he is nice to look at.”
“Yeah, he is. He has that boy-next-door look.”
“He does.” I glance at the time and realize I have a meeting in ten minutes. “Ugh, I should get going. I have a meeting.” We both stand, and I give Penny another hug. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Me too.” When I pull away, she takes my hand in hers and says, “Seriously, I’m really happy for you, but please don’t make a decision without consulting me. I can’t possibly be blindsided. I need to prepare for your departure.”
I chuckle. “I promise.”
Blakely: [Picture] Sherman says good luck, Daddy.
Halsey: He does not call me Daddy.
Blakely: That’s not what he told me.
Halsey: Then he’s lying to you for attention.
Blakely: LOL. I bet that’s it. Are you ready to score some more goals?
Halsey: Prepping my stick now.
Blakely: Well, go get them. Good luck.
Blakely: You won! Yay! Unsure of what the return to the apartment is like for you. Do you want me to get your bed ready or anything? Turnkey service?
Halsey: Uh, I’m good.
Blakely: Are you sure? Should I light up a pathway for you? I can stay awake and flag you in, in case you’re so delirious from it being so late.
Halsey: Seriously, I’m good. I’ll be quiet so I don’t wake you.
Blakely: Feel free to bang pots. I don’t care. I’m just a fly on the wall. This is your apartment, so do what you need to do.
Halsey: I’ll be quiet.
Blakely: Okay, but if you need anything, just let me know.
Also, a few things. I started putting a blanket around Sherman at night because I was nervous I wasn’t doing enough.
I tuck him in and play his sound machine that I got him.
Ten solid minutes of birds chirping. Assumed that’s what he wanted to hear.
Don’t be alarmed if you see a blanket around him. It keeps him warm.
Halsey: I’m sure he appreciates it.
Blakely: I think he does. He looks . . .
perkier. Also, I restocked the fridge with some of those protein drinks you have and some other food, so help yourself.
I spent the evening cleaning the apartment, not that it was dirty, but I felt like if I mopped, I’d feel better about staying here for free.
I also put an envelope of cash on the counter with your name on it.
It’s for the phone. And there are cronuts waiting for your consumption in the morning whenever you wake up.
Halsey: You didn’t have to clean, but thank you. I told you, you didn’t have to pay me back, so take the envelope and put it in your purse. And thanks for the cronuts.
Blakely: I have a feeling the envelope is going to be a problem and will be passed back and forth. Challenge accepted. Safe flight.
Halsey: Thanks. Have a good night . . . and yes, challenge accepted.
I tiptoe across the concrete floor on bare feet, shoes in hand as I make my way to the kitchen. I made my lunch the night before as well as my coffee so all I have to do is put some ice into it when I get to work. Just need to grab some things, and then I’ll be on my—
“Morning.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I say as I fly into the wall, clutching my shoes to my chest. I steady myself and then see Halsey lying on his couch with a book in hand. “Dear God, why are you up so early? I thought you’d be sleeping.”
“Slept on the plane and couldn’t sleep past six this morning.” He sits up, shirtless once again, showing off that perfect stack of abs. “Sorry for scaring you.”
As my heartbeat and fight or flight slowly starts to settle back to normal, I say, “Didn’t sleep much, huh? Is that because you sleep on an air mattress?”
The look of shock on his face is almost comical.
I hold up my hand. “And before you say anything, I wasn’t snooping.
I was going into your room to put the envelope with money on your nightstand when I saw that your bed was sunken right in the middle.
That’s when I toed it carefully and realized it was an air mattress.
I took the liberty of blowing it up for you before you got back. ”
“Oh . . . thanks.” He lifts from the couch, avoiding eye contact as he moves into the kitchen and starts making coffee.
I set my shoes down on one of the island chairs and ask, “Do you always sleep on an air mattress?”
“Uh . . . no,” he says, still avoiding eye contact.
Why is he being weird about it? Sure, I went into his room, but I wasn’t trying to dig around for some dirt or anything. It was innocent, and the only reason I mentioned the air mattress is because . . . oh my God. It hits me all at once.
No.
There is no way.
Stepping closer, I say, “Halsey, did you give me your bed?”
He leans against the counter, hands propped up on the edge as he says, “I didn’t have time to grab you one, so yeah. No big deal.”
“No big deal?” I ask. “Halsey, you gave me your bed, and you chose to sleep on an air mattress. Why on earth would you do that?”
He sifts his fingers through his hair, pulling on the strands. “Well, I didn’t want you not to have a bed. I’d rather sleep on an air mattress than make you sleep on one. It was an easy solution.”
“It was a solution that didn’t need to happen. I could sleep on an air mattress no problem. I don’t mind it at all. In fact, I’m going to switch beds right now.” Easy solution, my ass. It’s ridiculous.
I charge back to my room feeling guilty as shit that I took this man’s bed, and I start pulling my blankets and sheets off. He shows up right behind me, gathering the blankets and trying to put them back on the bed.
“Stop that.” I swat at his hand. “I’m giving you your bed back.
” I move to the corner, stick my hands under the mattress, and lift on three, only to barely make it budge.
“My God, what is this thing made of? Lead?” I attempt again, but it’s not going anywhere.
“How can something so comfortable be so heavy?” I motion to him. “Here, give me a hand.”
He stands there holding my blankets, shaking his head at me. “No, I’m not going to help you.”
“Halsey, you can’t possibly think that I’m going to sleep on this bed knowing it belongs to you. Come on, help me.”
“We’re not switching it. You’re a guest, so you get the nice bed.”
“You’re the owner, so you get the nice bed,” I shoot back.
“If I’m the owner, then I get the last say, and I say you get the nice bed. I get the air mattress and you get to keep your money. End of discussion.”
I take a step back. “End of discussion?” I prop my hands on my hips. “Halsey Holmes, do you really think that kind of talk is going to go over well with me?”
He shrugs. “I hope it does because I’m not changing my mind.” And with that, he tosses the blankets back on the bed and walks out of my bedroom.
Well . . . I would not have expected that kind of attitude from him, but here we are.
Little does he know, I don’t go down without a fight.