22. Zane Ortiz
22
Zane Ortiz
“And I thought my schedule was demanding,” I say to Pearl, still marveling at the fact that she’s here in my kitchen, helping me load the dishwasher. I wish there’d be more moments like this, but even I know that’s only happening in my dreams. Pearl has turned down all my invitations until I enlisted the help of her best friend.
I’d initially insisted she just sit and let me handle the cleaning, but after Robyn dashed off for a work phone call, Pearl seemed uncomfortable just watching me do the dishes by myself.
It’s endearing how she gets flustered by even the slightest hint of awkwardness around me.
“Robs works too hard,” she says, rinsing a plate. “She’s gunning for a promotion to VP of finance in her company, and you can imagine the uphill battle she’s facing, competing with older, more experienced men.”
“I have no doubt she’ll achieve her goals, especially since she’s so passionate about her work. She’s willing to tackle projects on a Sunday afternoon. That’s impressive,” I say, glancing toward the window where Robyn sits on the patio, completely focused on her laptop, which she apparently carries with her everywhere.
Pearl leans in a bit and I catch a whiff of her pleasant fruity scent. “It has nothing to do with passion.” She bites her lower lip, and my eyes play out the moment she releases it in slow motion.
Focus, Zane.
She continues, “She struggles with tying her identity too closely to her job. I’m only telling you this because it’s something she’s open about. I would’ve tried to keep her from answering that phone call, but trust me, you’re not ready for the heated disagreement that would follow.”
I can easily imagine Pearl and Robyn getting at each other’s nerves. They seem like they’re the type to engage in some serious tough love, much like my teammates do. But with girls, I’m sure it’s handled with a bit more sensitivity. They seem incredibly close. It’s more than just a regular friendship; they really have each other’s backs.
“I’m not one to judge, though,” I continue, my hand finding its way to my neck as I finish putting everything in its place. “Hockey is my identity, and so far, it hasn’t steered me wrong. It’s what everyone knows me by, and it’s the only place I feel like I belong.”
“That’s not true.” Pearl’s voice trails off as she walks toward the living room. “I don’t know you as a hockey player. I know you as the stalker at Randy’s café,” she says laughing at her own joke.
“When we first met, I was actually just a customer.” We both laugh.
It’s crazy to think about all the changes that happened in just a few weeks. After a couple of encounters, I started to think I should dial back my desire to get to know Pearl. And then along came the incident with Kate and Duke, which really pushed things to where they are now. I suppose I should personally thank them—especially Duke—for not dating Pearl. The mere thought of them together makes me cringe.
“I know you’re more than good in the women’s department. Robyn mentioned your female fans. Why were you so persistent with me?” she asks, as if my persistence has waned.
Perhaps toning it down a bit is what’s brought her here to my house. I could tell her the truth, although it’s rather basic and not particularly impressive—that she’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes on. It’s like she has a halo above her head, and being near her feels necessary to me. She has this charm that always draws me in effortlessly. But I also don’t want her to leave because I tried to flirt with her.
So, I simply reply, “What do you think it was?”
Leaning against the wall beside the couch where she’s perched, our knees almost touch. She confidently says, “You’re probably used to attention from women my age. So when you realized I didn’t know who you were, it bruised your ego.”
“Quite the therapist you are.” A chortle escapes my lips. “But no, it was refreshing to find out much later that you hate hockey and didn’t know me. I could use more people in my life who aren’t impressed by me,” I say, and she gives a cute frown. Is it normal to be so endeared by every expression on her face? “I don’t mind fans. Again, I wouldn’t be where I am without their support. But it just doesn’t happen often in Bedford to not be put on a pedestal.”
“First off, y’all have to stop with the whole I hate hockey . I don’t. I just know it can get pretty intense sometimes, and for someone who doesn’t watch any sport, violence isn’t exactly my cup of tea.” She winces slightly, miming an apology.
“It really doesn’t bother me that it’s not your thing. Maybe you don’t want to say that out loud when you meet the team, but hey, it can be our little secret,” I say, realizing the last part might have been a bit too forward.
“It’s not a secret anymore. Robyn loves to expose me any chance she gets,” she says with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But I guess if you’re on my side, I’ll be safe.”
A soft blush colors her cheeks, and the absence of any argument about meeting the team tells me she’s done pushing me away. At last.
Have I finally earned a place in Pearl’s good graces, or is it just the lingering effect of a good meal? She’s always praised Fiesta Grill , and I knew anything from their menu would be a hit, but I never expected to see her this relaxed around me. And, truth be told, I’m glad that Robyn’s occupied. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have this chance to be alone with her .
“I have an idea. Do you want to help me stain the dining table?” I ask on a whim.
“I don’t even know how to use a brush,” she replies, nervously fidgeting with her fingers.
“It’s super easy. I can teach you. Looks like Robyn’s gonna be on that call for a while.”
She agrees that it sounds like a fun way to pass the time. I ask her to give me a minute and head upstairs to change into comfortable sweats and put on a cap to protect my hair. I want to make sure Pearl doesn’t stain her dress either, so I grab my newest sweats with the Glaciers logo and their matching bottoms.
After changing, I bound down the stairs. Pearl is sitting on the couch, lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the window. I wish I knew what was on her mind.
It’s intriguing how she’s not absorbed in her phone like everyone else I know, including myself when I’m alone. I know she isn’t active on social media, but aren’t there enough funny cat videos to keep anyone entertained?
When Pearl emerges from the bathroom wearing my clothes, my heart takes a cross-check. I almost can’t breathe.
I’ve never been one to share my closet with anyone, but I’d definitely reconsider if Pearl wants to borrow all my clothes.
“I’m not sure I’ll give it back. It’s super cozy,” she says, her hands lost in the sleeves.
“Keep it. It looks better on you,” I reply, trying my best to hide the grin on my face .
Pearl snorts. She isn’t petite at all, but her feminine curves are completely hidden in my clothes. She looks absolutely adorable.
I lead her to the garage where the dining table is, and with a swift motion, I sweep away the tarp covering the table. I arrange the supplies closer to her—an assortment of brushes, the dark walnut stain, and a container of water for cleaning the brushes.
Pearl takes the brush and holds it by the handle’s top, and I smile, realizing it’s probably her first time doing a DIY project like this.
“Here, let me show you how to hold the brush,” I say, gently guiding her hands closer to the bristles. The touch of her fingers against mine sends my heart racing.
I demonstrate a few brushstrokes on the tabletop, and she looks at me with beaming eyes, her gaze intent as she watches me work. I gesture for her to give it a go.
She hesitates at first but then begins with a small stroke. As she gains confidence, her eagerness shows, but in her excitement, she accidentally smudges a spot. Her expression shifts to concern.
“Oh no, this doesn’t look right,” she says, flinching.
“Don’t worry, nothing you can’t fix.” I show her how to smooth out the smudged area and she does a pretty decent job at it.
Her focused expression, the way her blonde curls gently fall over her face, and the subtle bite of her lips make me wonder what it would be like to turn her angelic face and kiss her. I quickly shake my head.
Friends .
We agreed on friendship. For now.
Lost in this amazing world where Pearl is doing a project with me in my garage, we enjoy a comfortable silence. My gaze isn’t as focused on the dining table as it should be because Pearl is proving herself capable of the task. She’s not even sparing me a glance, which is giving me ample opportunity to study her every feature.
One of her eyebrows has a slight raise to it, giving her this endearing quirk. And until today, I hadn’t noticed the barely-there freckles that are only visible up close. Her eyes are that perfect almond shape, with a cute, petite nose that’s got a little point to it. I’m doing my best to steer clear of her full lips, but it’s proving to be a challenge. If it wasn’t for Robyn’s warning earlier, I’d have caved a long time ago. But I desperately need her to trust me. I need to make it easier for her to get there.
She shifts slightly, getting down on her knees to reach the back side of the table, a delicate crease forming between her brows as she concentrates. Every time a drip of stain slides off the brush and hits the floor, she quickly dabs it with a rag. It’s beyond sweet how perfectly she wants to do this. While it may be taking longer to stain this table than it would have if I hadn’t been putting it off for a while, Pearl’s presence and the little quirks of her efforts make this feel less like a task and more like a moment I want to capture and hold onto forever.
Suddenly, Robyn’s voice interrupts us, pulling me back to reality .
“I wanted to say I’m ready to go, but y’all look like you just started your project,” she says, hinting at something else.
Pearl’s demeanor completely changes, as if she’s trying to snap herself out of this dream too.
“No, I think I’ve done enough damage to this table. Let’s go home,” she says, replacing her enthusiasm with an all too familiar distant tone.
Was the fun we were having all in my head? Why is Pearl trying to resist enjoying herself with me?