Chapter 19
Thayne
My reflexes in the rink are impeccable, but I gotta confess.
I never saw them serving much purpose at a trivia game.
One quick flick of the wrist has Kira, Gillybean’s best friend that didn’t catch us having sex in my truck, pointing her hazelnut shaded finger in our direction prompting me to answer, “A luthier is someone who builds or repairs or sometimes restores stringed instruments includin’ but not limited to those in the violin family. ”
“Wow,” croaks the woman on the loveseat to my right, “that’s ridiculously impressive.”
Doing my best not to blush, I politely state, “Thank you.”
“Have you missed a single question?” Kira’s dark cocoa skinned husband, Béchir, ponders post putting another point under our name.
The headshake I deliver is shyer than intended.
Look, it ain’t about showin’ off in front of Gilly’s friends – or the sieve sitting opposite of us that she was previously setup on a surprise date with – so much as not embarrassing her.
Again.
Friendsgiving is a pretty big deal.
Not only is it a tradition they do every year, it’s the first time I’ve actually gotten to meet her friends.
Between raising Bronny and hockey back in play, matching schedules with theirs isn’t easy.
Or at least that’s what she’s said.
I have no reason to doubt her.
Even if a little voice in my head won’t stop humming “Little Lies” by Fleetwood Mac.
The woman I love adoringly plants her hand on my tan, plaid, slim fit pants bearing thigh and announces, “As long as you keep the questions in the music category, the chance of that happening is like vinyl record slim.”
“We talkin’ single, ep, or album, Gillybean?” I flirtatiously inquire as I drop my mirth-filled gaze down to hers.
“Those are different sizes?” curiously asks Buchanan Edwards, the aforementioned light beige faced blind date bender.
“How do you not know that?” Lionel, Aly’s husband, playfully pokes. “I know they’ve got music in Doctenn.”
“They actually have one of the best orchestras in the world,” leaves me in an absentminded mumble. “They’re constantly buttin’ heads with Amsterdam; although, I personally think there’s no competition. The Royal Concertgebouw is better. Especially live. Sticks down.”
The gasp out of Alexis, Buchanan’s date, is loud enough to shake the plush stool me and my girlfriend are occupying. “You’ve been to New Zealand?! I’m so jelly!”
“Netherlands,” I cordially correct prior to adding, “but yeah. I’ve been all around the world for work.”
Allerick Vishwakumar, a music producer that’s currently dating Kira’s sister Ciara – who is actually my age and has been eye banging me all evening – curiously leans forward, question about what I do clearly on the tip of his tongue when the woman beside me intervenes, “Next card.”
Kira places down the one she’s holding, randomly dives into the box to fish out another, and announces, “Culinary.”
“Ohmygod say less,” Ciara enthusiastically proclaims. “This is so ours.”
“Which country drinks the most coffee per capita in the world?”
Gilly and I both shoot our hand up in tandem prompting us to chortle.
“Oooo,” coos Kira. “A team answer. Impressive.” Additional humor hopping into her expression is attached to her declaring, “Since you lifted your hands together you have to answer together.” One beat passes. “Go!”
“Finland,” we retort as requested.
“That’s correct,” she snickers, naturally leading to us doing the same.
“Why do you both know that?” grunts Allerick in obvious amusement.
“We drink a lot of coffee,” Gilly shyly answers on a loving foot tap. “It’s kinda our thing.”
“One of our things.” I wink to her.
“One of our languages.”
“Probably our second bes’.”
“Music being first?”
“Of course.”
“Make it stop,” Aly impishly scolds. “Make their cuteness stop by reading another question.”
Gilly drops her face forward to hide her blush offering an easy to lean over and plant a kiss on the side of her temple opportunity at the same time Kira grabs the next card and reads, “Category is world history.”
“At least, I have a chance at this one,” Lionel grunts from the sofa he’s occupying with his wife.
Pretty sure she doesn’t wanna put me up on the trade block.
Both Aly and Kira – honestly – seem equally impressed and relieved by my presence.
Maybe it’s because they weren’t sure what to expect since I’m evidently one of the youngest people here?
Or maybe it’s because I’m the first boyfriend – and the last – that Gilly’s ever brought to a friend function?
Or maybe…I don’t know…they were just grateful their friend was actually happy and not just fakin’ it to fit in?
She used to do that shit a lot.
Definitely with them.
Not anymore.
Now, she has opinions and preferences and is less afraid when she doesn’t want to just go with the flow.
Man, I swear seeing her confidence grow makes me grow.
My heart as much as my dick.
Somethin’ that doesn’t always have the best timin’.
Like now.
These pants are a bit too snug for that.
Fucking and not tearin’ ‘em in the truck was Cup level of impressive.
“What was The Battle of Agincourt?” barely finishes leaving Kira’s lip before my tendy reflexes take over again.
“Thayne,” she excitedly states with a finger jab. “You’re up on your own this time.”
“It was a fight in the Hundred Years’ War-”
“Which was actually a one hundred and sixteen years,” interjects the man who thought he had this one in the bag.
“-and it was significant ‘cause it showed how the English longbow could really tear shit up against the knights.”
“Correct,” Lionel sighs before the host of the game can.
“How did you know that?” Gilly quickly investigates, intrigue doing crossovers in her gaze. “I didn’t think you were big into non-music related history.”
“I’m big into being a good teammate,” I warmly retort. “And Snowman is an avid history buff. We’re talkin’ knows more about old battles than I do old music.”
“How are we defining old?” Béchir good naturedly pipes up. “And be careful how you answer because the wrong one will get you banished to the kids’ table.”
Snickers spread around the room prior to my girlfriend announcing, “Jukes may be young on paper, but he’s mature at heart.”
“Thanks for the compliment, Gillybean.”
“Ughhhhh,” Aly huffs at the same time she picks up her wineglass, “if you two get anymore adorable, Pixar will and should sue.”
More laughter fills the space allowing me to expel a small exhale of relief.
We’re in the second period.
Second verse.
Let’s keep these vibes going just like they were in the first.
“Next question,” Kira proclaims during her dive back into the box for a random card. This time when she pulls it out, she reads, “Category is literature.”
“Most books have too many words in them,” Allerick jokingly comments, “so I’m already out of the running for the answer.”
Our chuckles are faint enough to still hear the host ask, “This USA Today Bestselling Author of historical and contemporary romances’ first three novels were Night Song, Vivid, and Indigo. Who are they?”
Aly’s mouth and hand twitch in tandem, yet she doesn’t commit.
Nor does Ciara.
Or Alexis.
She doesn’t even appear to have understood the question.
All of sudden, my girlfriend slowly lifts her paddle to throw out a guess, “Beverly Jenkins?”
“That’s correct!” squeals Kira in utter shock.
“Damnit!” barks Aly in frustration. “I knew I knew that one!”
“I swore you were gonna get it!” our host eagerly concurs. “You love black romances!”
“Beverly is like the GOAT!” Gilly’s other best friend gushes.
Curiosity has me dropping my gaze down to the woman I’m holding hands with. “Telenovelas I know.” Her stare shifts to mine. “But romance novels? Is that new?”
“Kind of…” The tiny cringe she flashes creates a small ache in my chest. “I like just started to give them a chance. I don’t know that I’m that into them, but I don’t not enjoy them.
” Nervousness instantaneously takes over.
“They’re not like the only thing I read or that I will be reading or that I’m open to reading. ”
Supporting her new choice to try something different is effortless as well occurs with a crooked grin. “Baby, I’m not gonna judge you for readin’ whatever you wanna read. You like it? I’ll love it.”
She lets the corner of her lip kick upward. “You really wanna finish that lyric, don’t you?”
“I may die if I don’t.”
Our small snickering exchange is interrupted by the best friend she beat out for the point, “When did you read Beverly?” Her neck slightly cranes forward, pulling my love’s focus in that direction. “And why? You never mentioned being open to the books before.”
“You didn’t ever ask me to be,” Gilly quietly defends while toying with her jukebox necklace that she rarely takes off.
Only when and if work requires it.
Great practice for wearin’ a wedding ring, aye?
“Who did?” Kira chimes in, her own interest flourishing. “Who asked you to read one of her books?”
“One of my newer friends, Joey.”
“Cap’s wife?” pushes past my lips without hesitation.
My girl momentarily drifts her attention back to me. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“They were reading Indigo – okay, he’s been reading, she’s been listening, which is easier with a baby she says – and asked had I ever read it or anything by Beverly and then gushed about how much she enjoyed the writing and how he couldn’t stop praising the writing and then offhandedly asked would I be interested in reading the next novel from her with them. ”
“Like a book club?”
“More like I think they just want another person to talk to about books.”
“Kinda sounds like a book club….” Mirth can’t help itself from spreading in my expression.
“Y’all want me to join?” Small chortles shake my fitted tan shirt covered shoulders.
“Not sure Cap would like that. Maybe if I brought iced coffee? Or if like I learned to make a really good Raf coffee Moscow style – which is heavily focused on the way everything steams together simultaneously unlike traditional lattes.”