Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Tedi
Tweetie’s been playing so well—I hope Bud Caldron is eating a big fat dick sandwich.
There was another away game tonight, and even though Bud told me to center everything on Tweetie, Coach Buford has let me interview a lot of the players so I can get things together and ready to go for when Bud’s whole plan goes to shit. Either that, or what I’m really hoping for—which is what Tweetie said about Bud finding another shiny toy to mess around with.
I’m sitting in my usual seat on the plane. It’s nighttime, so most of the players are sleeping. We’re going to get in late, and I’d rather stay awake so I can really crash when I get home. There’s nothing going on tomorrow, so I figure I’ll have a lazy morning, treat myself to a bagel with cream cheese, and work a little from my bed.
A big body falls into the seat next to me, and from scent alone, I know it’s him.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Tweetie whispers, buckling the seat belt. I swear, airplanes seem to be the only place where Tweetie follows all the rules.
“I’m sorry?”
“I saw your light on, so I figured I’d come back here. I was thinking.”
“Is that a new thing? Thinking?”
I armor myself for whatever he’s about to tell me. I really hope it’s not about our almost kiss. It took all my self-control to push him away, and when he brought up Decker, I was honestly like, Decker who?
He shakes his head, but a smile reaches his eyes. It was a middle school joke, but it was all I could think of to make sure he doesn’t think I’m remembering his body caging me against the wall in my hotel room.
“Let’s do it. Fuck Bud. At least if you showcase me, then another team will see what they can get.”
I’m disappointed I didn’t think of that angle or how he could benefit from Bud’s stupid idea.
“But you’d have to leave Chicago,” I whisper.
He nods, looking so sad and disappointed that I want to crawl into his lap and hold him. “Yeah, that sucks, but…” He shrugs and frowns. “Not much I can do about it. I doubt Bud is leaving, and I don’t want to play for someone who doesn’t believe in me.”
It feels like déjà vu from when Jana and Kane tried to get him back after they’d traded him away. He’s being proud, but I don’t know, maybe that’s not such a bad thing like I thought it was back then.
“Well, if you’re serious, I have a lot of ideas.”
He nods, and for the rest of the flight, I tell him what I’ve sketched out. I show him some of the stuff I have, and he chimes in with some good ideas too. That’s the thing with Tweetie, he’s always been really good about his social media. I suppose it’s easy when you’re Mr. Charming. I used to handle it for him when we were dating, but most of the time people just loved him because he’s such an authentic person. You can try to hate him if you want, but you’ll end up loving him all the same. Which is exactly my problem.
The plane lands, and Tweetie doesn’t leave my side as we file off, but I get my bag first, so I go outside and order a rideshare.
I’m waiting at the curb when he walks out of the airport with Conor and Rowan. Tweetie glances in my direction and stops as Conor and Rowan wave goodbye to me and slide into their waiting vehicle.
“Hey, you’re alone?” he asks with a frown.
I hold up my phone. “Car is five minutes away.”
He looks around and holds out his hand. “Can I see your phone?”
“Why?”
“I just want to see where they are.” His hand inches closer, so I hand my phone to him. He presses a button, hands me back my phone, then grabs the handle of my suitcase. “Let’s go.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, not moving.
He’s walking toward the black SUV Rowan and Conor already got into. “You’re not staying out here at two in the morning waiting for a fucking rideshare. You know who probably drives those things at this time of the morning?” He doesn’t stop or even turn around.
“Tweetie!” I follow, glancing at my phone to see that my rideshare has been canceled.
“Bad people drive those things in the middle of the night, Tedi. You need to take your safety seriously.” He pats the back of the SUV, and the back door lifts.
Rowan and Conor are in the third row as if they knew this would be the result of Tweetie coming over to me. “Hi, Tedi,” they say in unison, looking over their shoulders at us.
“I’m out of your way. I can wait,” I say to them.
“Do you live in Chicago?” Conor asks.
“Yes.”
“Then you’re not out of our way.” He turns back around.
“And Kyleigh has a mean streak. She’d kill me if we didn’t give you a ride,” Rowan says.
Tweetie smiles at me. “See? Get in.”
I hesitate.
Tweetie shuts the back door and steps around to me. “Either you get in or I pick you up and put you in, but standing on this curb waiting for some creep to pick you up isn’t an option.”
“I’m pretty sure they get background checks.”
“Maybe, but you’re not going to be the headline story tomorrow morning.” He opens the back door. “Get in, so we can all go get some sleep.”
I walk over to Tweetie, stopping before climbing in. “Thank you.”
He smiles at me. A true smile that I haven’t seen directed at me in years, and my heart pitter-patters, remembering what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that smile for so long.
I climb in and slide all the way to the window. Tweetie sits on the other side and shuts the door.
“We have one more stop to make,” he tells the driver, and I give him my address.
The driver doesn’t seem to have a problem with the added stop. Rowan and Conor are arguing about some play from the game, and Tweetie remains so still I wonder if he fell asleep sitting there, until we reach my apartment and he opens the door.
“I’ll be right back,” he tells the guys.
Tweetie grabs my bag and walks me into the lobby of my apartment building. “I’d like to walk you all the way to your door. You know, so I can sleep tonight.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve survived this long walking myself home at night.”
He runs a hand through his golden locks. “It would give me peace of mind. I need a really good night’s sleep if I’m going to play well in two days and make your job easier.”
I chuckle. God, it feels so good being around him and just being able to be ourselves.
“Are you gonna make me beg?” he asks.
“Fine.” I press the button on the elevator.
He doesn’t say much on the way up, and I shouldn’t be sad that he really is just making sure I’m okay and doesn’t have a hidden agenda. But still, I wish things were different with us. It was like old times on that plane, working together on his social media, bouncing ideas off one another, no thoughts of the past and all the hurt and disappointment that lay between us.
We file out of the elevator and down the hall toward my door. I insert my key into the lock and step inside. He places my suitcase just inside the door.
I spin around, arms out at my sides. “See? All safe.”
“I’d come in and check for monsters, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to leave.”
My shoulders sink, and I’m bowled over by a wave of loss. “Don’t say things like that.”
“You know I don’t have a filter.” He holds my gaze.
“I know,” I whisper.
We stare at one another, and the tension crackles between us. How easy would it be to open the door wider, to step out of his way, and welcome him in? I could break the distance, press my lips to his, and take what I want right now. But I can’t. Because the aftermath will only destroy me like it did once before.
So instead, I say, “Thank you again. Get home safe.”
He nods but doesn’t move. “Always, Tedi.”
I inch the door closed, and he steps away from the doorframe. “Good night.”
“Sweet dreams,” he mumbles.
I shut the door, flicking the lock as a failsafe against myself and the poor decisions that wait on the other side of the door. My back hits the door, and I rock my head back and forth, squeezing my eyes shut.
I feel it, just as I did at Ford’s retirement party back in Florida three years ago. That chemistry mixing and bubbling between us until eventually we both lose control and succumb to the inevitable.