Chapter 10
NICKY
“It was your moment, man,” Leo whines from his locker seat. “I can’t believe you let her walk out of the elevator!”
“Just because some people can only think with their dick, doesn’t mean everyone does,” Charlie corrects next to him. “If it wasn’t right, it wasn’t right. Better to wait and make it worth it than rush and regret it. You only get one first kiss with someone.”
“Why do we call you Bones? Should have named you fucking Yoda.” Leo laughs. “Or maybe Romeo for how hopelessly romantic that was.” He returns to getting dressed. I’m still wrapped in a towel after showering, sitting on my bench seat, listening to my teammates dissect the almost-kiss in Tampa.
It’s been over a week, and things with Bea have been more awkward than I would like.
The crew hasn’t been around to film, so Bea has kept to texts to update me.
I know she has other responsibilities that extend beyond supervising the documentary, but it hurts to have her so far away.
Physically and emotionally. I don’t like the negative thoughts that none of our connection is real—it’s just for the benefit of the documentary.
Watching her walk down the hotel hall without looking back has taken up more mental real estate than I could have ever thought possible.
It messed with my head so badly, I made the mistake of mentioning it to the guys the next day on the flight to Texas.
They’ve spent as much time reviewing it as they do game tape and our playbook.
“I don’t get it,” Gus interjects before popping his tooth into place. “Beatie definitely likes you—at least more than she likes the rest of us. All the vibes were there. What kind of inside information are you not sharing, Wellsy?”
Crosby jolts at being called out. His eyes go wide, and he loses a little color in his face before swallowing thickly. “I’m not sure what I’m allowed to say.”
“He’s engaged to Bea’s best friend.” Obie sighs. “This is one instance in which bro code does not apply. Whatever Violet has told Cap is in a vault.”
“But you’re not engaged to Vi. You’re the best friend of the best friend.
” Gus springs over his bench and practically tackles Obie in his haste to cross the locker room.
“What do you know?” He has his puppy-dog eyes, silently pleading with each blink.
The rest of the guys laugh, and I use the distraction to slip on my boxer-briefs.
“Look,” Obie levels with the guys and uses his hands to turn Gus around and practically frog marches him back to his stall.
“Bea gave up her whole life in England when she came here. That’s a huge decision, and she seemed to make it without even flinching.
” He heads to his locker, grabbing a Midnight hoodie to pull over his head.
When the black strands of his hair pop through, he brings a hand up to smooth them and focuses on me.
“She likes you, but I think her life feels scarier than she lets on. If you want her, play the long game.”
I give him a nod of confirmation and am happy when Leo changes the topic to the upcoming holiday party the team is hosting this weekend.
Usually, it’s held on the days off we get at Christmas, but I think it’s nice to have that time with our families.
Last year, Natalia was only willing to stay for thirty minutes before I needed to take her home.
Now, Ms. Margaret can watch her, and I can socialize like an adult for an evening.
I tune out the discussion and focus on getting my clothes on.
I have a couple of hours before I need to pick Natalia up from school, and I plan on fitting in a little early Christmas shopping.
The guys begin filtering out, and as I hitch my backpack over my shoulder in the hall, I pull my phone from my pocket.
Any chance you can get out of the office?
Solnyshka
I have meetings scheduled most of the afternoon. Did you need something?
I type “you,” and stare at the three letters without sending them until I hit the exit. While pushing open the door with my shoulder, I delete the reply. Obie’s words ping around my head, and I type out something more casual. More friendly than forward, even if it kills me.
I’m going to pick up some Santa presents for Natalia, just wondered if you could count it as a late lunch if I bought you something to eat.
Solnyshka
YOU’RE Father Christmas? Nicky, you’ve just shattered me. I’ve been living a lie.
I bark out a laugh as I cross the parking lot, shaking my head at Bea’s sharp wit. I can imagine the smirk playing on her lips as she typed this reply. The way her whiskey eyes would crinkle and sparkle with mischief. Before I can reply, another text bubble appears.
Solnyshka
Nat wants to try ramen, so see if you can find a cute bowl set for her.
Ramen?
Solnyshka
It’s the K-Pop Demon Hunters effect. Zoey’s her favorite, and she wants to eat what Zoey eats. She told me at the Halloween carnival.
Ramen bowl. K-Pop Demon Hunters. Check.
I open my car door, starting the engine to get the heat going.
December in Connecticut is no joke, and today’s weather is the kind of gloomy gray that promises incoming storms. I’m used to the cold on the ice, but being outside in the wind makes my blood feel thin.
I shiver until the vents kick out warm air.
I slip my phone into the cup holder, but it lights up as soon as I let it go with another message.
Solnyshka
I’m sorry I can’t get away.
It’s all right. You’re busy being amazing. I just miss you.
Before I overthink it, I punch the button to send that message. I might have missed an opportunity to kiss Bea, but I’m not missing any more chances to let her know how I feel. Besides, it’s not a confession of love; it’s just a nice thing to say. Right?
I fumble to get the message unsent before she can see it, but she must be watching the screen, because three dots dance at the bottom of mine. I wait, abandoning my impulse to delete the text. I swallow thickly when they disappear and pop back up again.
Solnyshka
I miss you, too. x
“Hi, Nicky,” Violet says, stretching onto her toes to give me a hug. I wrap an arm around her to return the greeting, surreptitiously scanning over her shoulder for her best friend.
I’m standing next to the bar, finishing a beer, in the converted industrial building where the Halloween party was hosted.
Instead of a Gothic mansion fit for haunting, the space has been transformed into a postcard of seasonal perfection.
There are massive evergreen trees with white-flocked needles and twinkle lights bursting through the branches scattered around the room.
The tables are draped with heavy tablecloths of silver and lapis; champagne and navy-blue ornaments are scattered artfully down the center to offset the ivory place settings.
There are a few carefully curated areas designed to look like cozy living rooms; plush lounges in sapphire and alabaster oversized armchairs that have low tables for drinks nearby.
They surround electric fireplaces and stoves, inviting guests to sit for a drink and warm themselves in the welcoming orange glow.
It’s an unusual combination of colors for this time of year, eschewing the popular crimson and clover accents, but the overall effect makes the space feel more like a gilded winter night than Santa’s workshop on steroids.
After drawing back from Violet, and with no successful sighting of Bea, I twist back to the bar, waving down a bartender for her. Crosby stands just off her shoulder, and I give his hand a shake as a greeting.
“This suit is very nice,” Violet says after she orders one of the night’s custom cocktails.
I look down at the hunter-green ensemble I allowed the salesperson to talk me into when I was shopping for Natalia.
It was an impulse to search for something new, and maybe saying the words “holiday party” had been a mistake when I was asked what the suit was for.
I hope I don’t look like a Hallmark movie extra.
“I feel a little like a peacock,” I admit. The color is rich, so I don’t feel too much like a Christmas tree, and the navy-and-green plaid tie helps the outfit fit in more than I imagined. But, overall, I feel silly for wearing something purely to try and impress Bea.
“You look incredibly handsome,” Violet reassures me. Crosby gives an encouraging nod as he picks up their drinks. “We’re going to go sit with my dad for a bit. Want to join us?”
She points to where Coach is seated in one of the living room setups. He’s relaxed in the armchair, watching the fire and talking to Ava, who is seated on the sofa across from him. I don’t want to stand here looking desperate, so I leave my empty beer bottle on the bar top and follow Violet.
When we get close, Coach stands to press a kiss to his daughter’s cheek.
He gives Crosby a hug and then approaches me.
I offer a hand, but he ignores it. Even if he’s shorter than me, Coach pulls me down for a hug with a few pats to my shoulder.
We greet each other quietly, and I’m chided for not calling him Cal off the ice.
Violet and Crosby drift over to the other open spots on the couch.
“How’s Natalia?” Coach—Cal—asks. “She hasn’t come by in a while. Then again, she’s a big kindergartener now. Probably can’t fit me into her schedule.”
I chuckle low in my throat, and Cal beams. It’s nice to have another single dad to laugh with about these things.
When I first joined the team, it took a couple of weeks to adjust to the schedule, leaving Natalia’s childcare inconsistent.
With no one to watch her one day, I called to tell him I couldn’t make practice.
Cal told me to come anyway and to bring Nat.