Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Bobby
“What the fuck are you reading?” Alexi “Barzee” Barinov fires at me, kicking my feet where they’re propped on my backpack.
My muffin almost rolls right out of my hand from the impact. I snatch it back, only losing a few crumbs to the floor. “Chill, bro. You almost made me drop my once-a-day sugary treat.”
I snagged the last one from the tray of muffins when I joined the team for breakfast in a private banquet room at our hotel. I was late getting downstairs, mostly because I stayed up after our win last night, texting Molly until my phone hit me in the face and I had to admit defeat to the fatigue in the wee hours of the morning. Made me feel bad for Molly, who seemed to always be awake in those early morning hours. I make a mental note to ask the team trainer about that. Maybe there’s something I can do to help her sleep better.
“Leave him alone. He’s busy sexting some bunny again,” Danny “Dan-O” Bright interjects as he walks by with his trash. Somehow Coach talked him into being my babysitter for the trip and made him room with me like I’m some kind of juvenile that needs supervision. I thought he was asleep when I was texting Molly last night.
“Not some bunny,” I snarl at his back.
“Ohhh, boy. Roadie’s angry!” Pete “Forns” Fornier mocks me. He uses his uneaten banana as a gun, keeping it trained on me.
“Fuck off with that thing.” I snap my book shut, convinced I’ll never get back to it with these clowns around. And contrary to what everyone thinks of me, my anger management sessions with Ashley have been going well. I don’t even have the urge to punch Forns in his ugly mug. “I’ll have you know I’m messaging with a very respectable woman. Not a bunny.” I glare at Dan-O as he comes back with napkins for all of us. He’s such a dad.
“Is that right?” comes the flat voice of Coach Marsh.
We crane our necks and see him grab a plate off the table in front of the buffet before dishing up some of the eggs and bacon we nearly cleaned the hotel out of. With the help of Ashley, I’ve come to the conclusion that Coach Marsh isn’t a bad coach, he just leads with tough love. And when you’re new to the team and haven’t taken the time to get to know us, that tough love just feels tough and not like anything close to love. Then again, this is his first time on this planet, so maybe he’s still figuring stuff out too.
“Yes, that’s right,” I say proudly. “She’s a businesswoman and a single mom. In fact, I’ve become somewhat of a mentor to her son.”
Benny looks up from where he’s been texting with Kaitlyn. He’s having a hard time on his first road trip since Mei was born. Poor guy looks like he actually misses baby spit up and full diapers. It’s a mystery to me, but he seems happy right now, shooting me a shit-eating grin.
“She finally gave you the time of day, huh?” He and Kaitlyn are well aware of my attraction to Molly. Mostly because Chloe has a big mouth and told them about me checking her out when she dropped Matthew off at practice.
Coach plops his plate down next to me. “I’d like to speak with Bobby privately.”
The guys all look at each other in bewilderment before scraping their chairs back and heading out of the room. The silence is only broken by Coach shoveling scrambled eggs in his mouth. And that does make me want to punch someone in the face. I run through all the mental exercises Ashley’s given me and then run through them again before Coach wipes his mouth with a napkin and addresses me.
“My wife seems to think you’re the linchpin.” He folds his hands over his slight paunch and assesses me.
“Uh...” I only met his wife once, the day after we were told Marsh would be our new coach. She was a small, dark-haired woman who was mostly unremarkable. I have no clue why she’d refer to me as a linchpin. I don’t even really know what a linchpin is.
“She says that you’re the key to getting this team gelling again.”
I’m so confused. Is he mad at me? Little drops of spit aren’t flying out of his mouth like I’m used to. He’s just stating things and staring at me. It’s highly unnerving. He’s clearly waiting for an answer, and I have no idea what he wants from me.
“Uh, well. I would look toward Dan-O or Druggy for that. They’ve been with the team longer.”
Coach is already shaking his head, and I brace for the inevitable yelling. “No, that’s not what I’m looking for. You see, I came to Tampa, ready to lay down the law. Be the alpha. Get you boys in line.” I’m nodding, yet I have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about. “But it’s not working. We’re not gelling. We’re not in a flow yet.”
I pinch my arm and nearly jolt from the pain. Yep, not having a nightmare where I’m stuck in a conversation with Coach that makes absolutely no sense. When all else fails, I channel my inner Ashley and ask a question instead.
“How can I help you, Coach?”
It’s apparently the right question because he smiles. Like, shows his teeth and his eyes crinkle up and everything. He claps me on the shoulder like my Dad used to do when us boys did something good instead of fucking things up.
“I’m impressed by your change in behavior so far, Bobby. I might not even have to saddle you with a roommate on our next road trip. How about we have dinner tonight and talk about it?”
I’m just barely able to hold back the grimace. Dinner with Coach is the last thing I want after an away game. First, no beer. Now, dinners with Coach? This growing up thing is utter bullshit.
“Can’t wait, Coach,” I finally squeeze the words through my throat.
He gives me a dismissive head nod and pulls out his cell phone. I take the opportunity to grab my backpack and get out of there. I have two hours before I need to be at the rink. Plenty of time to text Molly. I head for my room, only to see a tube sock hanging from the doorknob. I lift my gaze to the ceiling and groan. Isn’t Dan-O too old to be whacking off to his wife on Facetime?
“Come on, Dan-O,” I mutter, turning around and going back down the elevator to find a quiet place to curl up with my book and Molly. I end up in the courtyard of the hotel behind a green plant that’s barely holding on in the Chicago chill air. I pull my jacket farther around me and crack my book open to page fifty-two of the 101 Questions to Ask Your Long-Distance Partner . It’s a little preemptive since we’re not dating yet, but I saw it at the airport and figured it would be a good way to get to know Molly.
Me: Inquiring minds need to know: what’s your love language, Sparkle?
Molly: Oh jeez, Ramona, my best friend, made me read that book after my divorce. Apparently, it’s possible to score high in all five.
I wince, snuggling down into my jacket farther when the wind kicks up. Doesn’t sound like she had a very good marriage. Clearly, she didn’t, since they’re divorced, but damn, did he not give her any forms of affection?
Me: Only extremely lovable people would score high in all five.
Molly: You’re too kind. Or maybe a bit delusional...
Me: What’s your ideal date?
Molly: April 25th
Me: ???
Molly: Oh my god! Have you not seen that romcom? You have to see it!!
Me: Invite me over to watch it with you when I get home Sunday night, and I’ll make the popcorn.
Molly: I see what you did there.
Me: It’s what I’m going to keep doing until you admit we’d have the best first date either one of us has ever had.
Molly: Think pretty highly of yourself, huh?
Me: No, I think highly of US.
Molly: Bobby . . .
Me: Molly . . .
Me: Do you think two people in a committed relationship should share their phone passwords?
Molly: What? Why are you asking me these questions? You asked a ton of questions last night too, now that I think about it.
Feeling like the jig is up, I pull out my phone and snap a selfie with my book purchase, a sheepish expression on my face. I send the picture to her and she answers right away.
Molly: That might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
Me: Cute, as in, so cute I have to ask that man on a date??
Molly: Yes.
Me: I accept!
Me: Wait. Seriously, though. You’re saying yes to a date? A real live, I’ll plan it, pick you up, and pay for it date?
Molly: Well, yes, to all of that but the paying for it thing. We can split the cost.
Me: You’ll have to fight me for the bill before I let that happen.
Molly: Bobby . . .
Me: Molly...Just let me bask in the warmth of your yes, okay?
Molly: Wish I was there to warm you up.
I squeeze my eyes shut and groan out loud. Fuck, why did this have to happen during an away streak? Molly is flirting with me. It’s historic. Possibly a one-time thing. I don’t want to give her enough time to rethink this date.
Me: What are you wearing? (And no, that’s not a question from the book).
Molly: Well, I’m actually only wearing a towel. (And that’s not me being flirtatious).
Me: Yes! See? Already feeling warmer. Wait, why are you in a towel? (And that’s too bad. I like flirtatious Molly).
Molly: I went to a yoga class this morning that Coco recommended. And now I have a house to show one of my clients.
Me: So, it’s true. I’m not your only client.
Molly: You’re the only client I’ve agreed to go on a date with... (This is me flirting).
Me: All right I won’t be mad. Especially won’t be mad if you send me a selfie in your towel. (Just assume that every text I send you is me flirting with you).
I nearly melt the chair I’m sitting on when Molly sends me a selfie several minutes later. The lighting is low, and the high angle is perfect. I see her luscious boobs pressed into a white fluffy towel, the ends of her wet hair dangling into the shot. Her curvy legs below the towel end in fire engine red toenails that tempt me.
Me: Dammit, Molly. You’re beautiful, and I can’t wait to take you out on a date when I get back home.
Molly: You flirt very well, Mr. Rhodes. (PS-I intend to figure out your love language on our first date).
Benny yells across the courtyard that it’s time to go. I slide the book in my backpack and hustle to the bus taking us to the rink for tonight’s game.
I have three more nights to flirt with Molly. See, the key to a good date is knowing what matters to the girl. You don’t show up with a box of chocolates if dairy makes her gassy. You don’t take her to a wine and cheese pairing event if she’s a recovering alcoholic. I’ll get to know Molly as best I can long distance and then wow her on our first date. Like a proper fucking gentleman.
But first, I have to get through this dinner with Coach tonight.