Chapter 9
9
Cade
T he evening air whips through my thin clothes as I run toward the hotel entrance with the mini statue of a dog stuffed firmly under my shirt. Ben had ushered me along, scolding me that I hadn’t at least worn a sweatshirt while he let me get on the bus, and sure enough, there the statue was, exactly where I last saw it.
Charley must’ve been so preoccupied with texting that she forgot to put it back in her bag.
The automatic doors whoosh open, and warm air envelops me like someone turned on the stadium spotlights on game night. The hint of cleaning product lingers in the lobby, and when I peer to my left, a hotel employee is mopping the floors by the snack bar. I take a right near the pool, the potent chlorine aroma permeating the single emergency door, and I don’t stop until I get to Charley’s room.
Charley, the enigma. This scatterbrained, shy human who has the biggest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. Who’s as unsure of herself as a child but sharp enough to cut me down with her words.
I might be completely losing it, but we made progress tonight. Real, unavoidable steps toward… What? I’m not sure.
My knock sounds like thunder in the empty hallway, and I angle away from the rest of the rooms until she opens the door. Lifting my shirt, I show off the cute statue, and she grabs my forearm yanking me inside.
Tearing it from my grip, she’s all smiles. “You’re kidding! I didn’t think it would be there. I thought Hamilton took it or one of the players so they could embarrass me tomorrow.”
She hugs the statue, and I’m almost confused by how many words she just spoke. However, that doesn’t stop me from wanting to tease her. “You let me do that and you didn’t think it would be there?”
She finally peers up at me, startled, as if she forgot I even came in with the Bulldog. “I…wasn’t sure. You weren’t either.”
“Well, it’s safe now, and I’m sure you won’t make the mistake again. If you do, you know where to find me.”
Moving past her, I sit down on the closest bed, stretching my arms out and getting comfortable before I pull out my phone. I’m hyperaware of her staring at me, though I’m not surprised. I’m invading her space again. The thing is, she can’t just tell me to leave now. I’ve saved her.
“What are you doing?”
“You like pizza?” I ask. “I love pizza. I’m going to order one.”
Her silence says it all, and I can’t help myself. I peek up at her. Her knuckles are white as she clings to Chuck. When she sees me looking, she asks, “Here?”
“Hungry?” I counter, deciding I’m not going to answer her questions about staying. Maybe I’ve been going about it wrong. Maybe I just don’t ask her permission.
“Why are you always trying to feed me?”
I tilt my head at her. “I’m being nice.”
She rolls her eyes, moving the statue to her bag. For real this time.
“Was that your stomach? I think that was your stomach. I know for a fact you haven’t eaten gum or a Snickers bar recently.”
“Ha. Ha,” she deadpans. She turns, her hands twisting in front of her. “Are we really doing this?”
“Eating together? Or will you be watching me eat? Because I’m about to order pretty much every meat and vegetable that goes on a pizza, unless you’re allergic to mushrooms. Are you allergic to mushrooms?”
She shakes her head.
“Onions?”
She shakes her head again.
I can’t help but grin at her. “This would go a lot faster if you just told me what you like on your pizza, Charley.”
She sits on the bed. “Pretty much anything except anchovies.”
I make a face. “Anchovies weren’t even an option.”
She snickers, then with a hopeful glance she asks, “Pineapple?”
“You like pineapple ?” She nods, and I shrug. “I’ll do it for you, but now you definitely can’t say I’ve never done anything for you.”
“Because pineapples are a bigger deal than saving Chuck?”
“It might be.”
“You’re weird,” she states. It’s not a tease, or her usual words slung at me and meant to hurt. She states it like a fact.
“You are, too.”
“Touché,” she says with a grin. “I just thought popular football players were cookie cutouts of assholes who think they’re better than everyone else.”
“Yikes.” I clutch at my chest playfully before clicking Order on the app. “I take it you don’t like football players very much?”
“I don’t like people very much, so don’t be offended.”
I grab the remote from the nightstand and lean against the pillows. “Well, if you had to line up across from big dudes who were twice your weight and intent on taking you to the ground, you’d have to have an ego, too. Otherwise, you’d talk yourself right out of ever starting a game.”
She peers at me, narrowing her gaze. “That actually makes sense.”
She stands there for several long seconds then looks around the room like she’s in a lab, searching for evidence, then slowly moves to the other bed and sits.
It can’t possibly be true, but her behavior is strange enough that it looks like she’s never hung out with anyone before in her life. “I’m glad you approve.”
I flick through the channels, stopping on a women’s college basketball game. It’s State. “Oh my God, have you seen this girl play?” I ask. “She was a phenom in high school. Quintessa Dale. She played on the boys’ team. I mean, she’s extraordinary. Definitely WNBA bound.” I sit up as the dark-haired girl steals the ball, dribbles down the court, and lays it in for an easy two points.
“Really?”
“We can change it,” I offer.
She laughs. “No, I mean, you actually think I’ve heard of her…because I’ve been a wealth of sports knowledge thus far?”
I turn to find her grinning at me. She’s a little more relaxed now, one leg propped up on the bed, a pillow behind her head. “What are you knowledgeable about?”
“Let’s see… How to be late for work every day. I could win trivia night on that.”
“And how to lose a precious school emblem and ruin the football team’s winning season?”
“Yep, that too.”
I’m gonna add sense of humor to the reasons why I like this girl . “But really, what do you like?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“You can’t help but be evasive, can you?”
She fans her lashes at me. “I know about being evasive.”
I watch the game for a little while longer, but then out of nowhere, I say, “I never thought you’d ask. I like cooking, playing football, talking with my friends, and saving beautiful women from being fired.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
When I glance over, she’s picking at something on her jeans. “Say what?”
“You know what. I’m impervious to your fake compliments, so we can either sit here and be friendly, or you can try to talk yourself out of your pants in your own room.”
“I wasn’t—” She glares over at me, and I snap my mouth shut. “I’m sorry my compliments offend you.”
She shrugs and looks away, staring at the screen with a scowl.
Damn, we’d gotten so far, too.
For the next twenty minutes, we watch the game in silence, even after I offer to change it again. A quick knock breaks the tension, and she jumps up. “Shit. Hide.”
I just stare at her and get up from the bed, moving toward the door.
“What are you doing? Hide.” She runs over and tries to push me into the bathroom, but I wrangle the hotel door open. We’re jostling for position when the delivery driver shoves the box forward. “Your large pizza.”
Charley’s face reddens and she turns, walking away. I slip a five out of my wallet even though I already tipped him in the app and spin to find her hand covering her mouth. “Oh my God, I thought it was Coach! You should’ve checked the peephole!”
Realization hits me, and I grimace. “Yeah, that would’ve been unfortunate. Pretty sure that driver thought you were a nutcase, though.”
“Me? You’re the one opening the door all willy-nilly!”
“You’re the one trying to shove a football player who’s several sizes bigger than you into a bathroom.”
She sighs, her shoulders heaving as she levels me with a look. “Just shut up and give me a piece of pizza.”
I beam, taking the box to the desk and popping the lid open. The delicious smell of tomato sauce mixed with meat and baked veggies fills the room. The obvious growl of a stomach sounds. “I knew you were hungry.”
“Starving, and it smells delicious.”
I gesture toward the pizza to allow her to go first, and she grabs a slice with her bare hands and takes a big bite. The cheese stretches. Her eyes go wide as she continues to take it in and in until it finally lets go. Sauce drips down her chin, and I hand her a napkin.
“That was refreshing. Girls usually want a plate and a fork.”
“I’ve never eaten with a football player before. I didn’t know there were standards to uphold.”
“None whatsoever. You’ve already exceeded my expectations. I once watched Briar house an entire footlong in a few bites.”
She finishes chewing, wiping her chin with the napkin. “Briar is?”
“Oh.” I shake my head. “She’s my buddy’s girlfriend. And, um, the sister of my friend who died.”
“Your friend’s dating his sister?” she coos. “I love that.”
“Yeah.” I grab my own slice of pizza and take a bigger bite than Charley did. “They’re perfect for one another. It was rocky at first, to say the least, but they deserve each other.” I take out my phone, scrolling through our group chat until I find the last photo Briar sent of her and Reid on the Wildcats football field where Reid now plays professionally and angle it toward her.
“Cute couple. Does he play for a different team?”
I chuckle. She really knows nothing. If I showed Reid’s picture to anyone else on campus, nine times out of ten, he’d be recognized.
“What?” she asks around a mouthful of food.
“Reid was the quarterback here last year. He got drafted and plays for the NFL.”
“What?” she exclaims, eyes rounding. “That’s where they get paid to do it, right? The Super Bowl and all that jazz?”
I nod. “He’s living the dream.”
“Wow,” she stammers out. Then she peers at me pointedly. “Are you going to play in the NFL?”
“Well, I have to get invited to the combine first, then get drafted, then actually be allowed playing time, so…”
“Are you good enough to do all that? That sounds like a lot.”
“I mean…” I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Oh my God, you are, aren’t you? I can see it in your face.”
I hold my free hand up, taking another bite out of my pizza before a piece of sausage falls to the floor, but it gives me a chance to get my thoughts together. “Let’s just say this is an important year.”
“Now who’s being evasive?” She wipes her fingers off and then reaches into the box for another slice before leaning against the desk.
“There was a time when I thought I was good enough but I don’t know anymore, and I’m not sure it’s something I want.”
She chews quickly, waving at her face. “Please. You don’t owe me an explanation. I was only teasing.”
“It actually feels good to talk about things out loud.” I wait a few beats. “You should try it.”
“I don’t plan on playing professionally, no. The only game I was in, I got tackled really hard and then some weird guy said I was going to fall in love with him.”
I wipe at my face, then grab a napkin. “I said I was going to make you love me. Everyone loves me.”
She licks her lips, then smiles and stares at her pizza like it’s the most amusing thing in the room right now. A few bites later, she polishes it off and reaches for another. “I thought maybe I’d go into healthcare, but the first few years here, it became clear it’s definitely not my thing. I’m currently on the liberal arts track that leads to mediocre paying jobs and a miserable life.”
“Well, what do you like?”
“Being alone. Silence. People minding their own business.”
“Sounds like you’re destined for a padded room at the Hillcrest Mental Facility.”
“Don’t tempt me. But also, rainy nights. Thunderstorms. Black cats.”
“Are you a witch?”
“I was kidding about the cat.”
She smiles to herself while she finishes off her slice. I eat the rest of mine and then grab another, taking her spot at the desk while she sits back on the bed. “So, the WNBA? Is that where they make money, too?”
“Yeah, they do, but unfortunately, they don’t make as much money as the NBA.”
“Hmm?”
“The men’s league.”
“Well, that’s shitty. I guess I’ll strike basketball player off my list of possible career choices.”
“Plus, there’s so many people. Teammates. The spectators.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, sounds awful.”
I peer around, searching for a drink, and realize Charley had me so distracted that I forgot to order one. The pizza smell lingers as far as the bathroom as I unwrap one of those plastic cups and fill it with water. I take a few huge gulps to wash dinner down. After throwing my cup away, I grab another one and unwrap it before filling it up for her. After a quick check in the mirror to make sure I don’t have any food on my face, I head out into the main room.
“I’m trying to think of any job where you don’t have to be around people.”
“Long distance truck driver.”
I hand her the drink. “I see you’ve thought about it.”
“A lot,” she says, taking the drink and offering me a smile.
“A lot, and yet you only have one option.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t make job descriptions. I figure anything customer service is out of the question.”
“Maybe a mailwoman?”
“I thought about that. But there’s the off chance of seeing people outside or having people who show up and want you to hand their mail to them instead of putting it in the box.”
I laugh out loud. She really has put a lot of thought into this. “Okay, people are out of the question, but what about animals? Zookeeper, dog trainer, or you can start your own pet bed-and-breakfast.”
She eyes me over her cup and then lowers it. “You were right.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific. I’m right about a lot of things.”
“Sometimes it is good to talk about things.”
I lie in the next bed, crossing my ankles. “Do you prefer pitch dark? Or some bathroom light?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, when we go to bed.” I peer over to find her glaring at me. “I’m sleeping in this bed, don’t you worry. And I won’t call you beautiful again.”
“Cade…” She studies the way I’m laying. “You’re sleeping in your own room.”
“Fat chance. One, it’s after curfew and my ass is not getting benched tomorrow. And two, I’m not letting that statue out of my sight.” I peer over at her bag to make my point. “Plus, I don’t snore. Do you snore? Because I can call down to the front desk and get some earplugs.”
“I don’t snore, but it doesn’t matter because you’re not spending the night.”
“You make it sound so dirty,” I tease. “I’m at least ten feet away from you, and I have no intentions other than getting a good night’s sleep to prep for the game tomorrow.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“As a fourth-down play on the one-yard line.”
“I think you missed the part where I said I like to be alone.”
“But that doesn’t pertain to members of The Death Club. You’re stuck with me.”
She huffs out a breath, and I smile to myself.
Where has Charley-not-Charlotte been all of my life? This is fun.