Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hutch
I’m sitting with Cliff at the bench. It’s become my nightly after-work ritual. My phone pings with a text. I pull it out of my pocket and smile when I see Farley has texted.
Farley: The house is ready for you. The keys are at the gatehouse.
Just give them this code I’m sending to you.
If you need anything, you can contact Yasmine.
Her number is under the code. I’ve sent your grocery list to her, and the kitchen will be stocked.
Have fun! And you better be coming to my first game.
I’m getting you tickets. Find yourself a date because I’m not taking no for an answer.
I pause after reading it. I want to be there for him. I really do. But the thought of sitting in the stands seems too much. I haven’t attended a professional game since my injury.
Me: Thanks, man. I’m looking forward to the vacation. I’ll touch base when I get back.
I put my phone in my pocket again, hoping that text will at least buy me time as I contemplate whether I’m ready to go to a game. I really want to be there for my friend, but I’m not sure I’m ready to do that yet.
I toss some peanuts over at Cliff, who sits on a giant stone, eating away without a care in the world.
“What’s it like not having to worry about anything but eating, pooping, and sleeping?” I ask him…or her, according to Al.
“Well, I do have bills to pay and books to read, but it’s pretty damn nice,” Jocelyn’s voice says from behind me. Damn that woman! She’s always sneaking up on me.
“Glad to hear pooping isn’t your biggest problem,” I tease as I look over at her.
“I mean, I was super constipated last week, but don’t worry, Mom added extra zucchini into that chocolate loaf she made for happy hour,” Jocelyn jokes as she sits down next to me.
“How’s Cliff?” she asks, motioning to the trash panda.
“It’s apparently Cliffette,” I correct.
“Oh? Well, geez, we really messed that up. Do people do animal gender reveal parties? Like, should we open a big box with pink balloons or something?” she teases as she leans back and watches Cliff eat.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, but I think that might scare her,” I say while tossing out the rest of the nuts I brought.
“Seriously? You don’t go on social media, like ever?” Jocelyn asks.
“Not if I can avoid it,” I explain. I remember going on social media all the time when I played, but then after the accident, it was just too hard.
And then the more I didn’t go on, the easier it got to disconnect from all those things that made living my new life difficult.
And I never went back on after I got settled here in the apartment.
“Wow. What’s it like living in the 1900s?” she asks.
I glare at her. “Hey! I’m not that old,” I protest. “Besides, weren’t you born in the 1900s?” I add as I attempt to do math.
She starts giggling. “Uh, nope. Early 2000s,” she says.
My eyes widen. What the fuck? How is she that young?
“How old are you?” she asks.
“Old enough to have been born in the 1900s.” I grimace.
She feigns a look of shock. “Wow! Did you ride in a horse and buggy growing up? What was it like without electricity?”
I glare at her. “Can you even buy alcohol?”
She laughs. “You’re funny.”
“For an old man,” I mutter under my breath.
“Well, Boomer, I got to go catch my bus,” she says. I glare at her and she grins. I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, wrong generation, smartass, and I can drive you home,” I offer as I stand.
“No, really, it’s OK, Hutch,” she protests while also standing and slinging that giant backpack over her shoulder.
“Actually, do you have class tonight?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, I was just going to start working on my paper rough draft.”
I put an arm over her shoulder and steer her toward the apartment building. I’m not even thinking about finding the flower person; I’m just thinking about how I can spend more time with Jocelyn. She makes me happy, and right now, I need to feel happier.
“I was going to order pizza and watch a movie. You in?” I ask.
“Depends on what movie and which restaurant,” she says.
“Donato’s and you can pick the movie,” I offer.
She gives me an evil grin. “Careful what you wish for.”
“Can we at least get pepperoni pizza?” I say as I hold open the door for her.
“I suppose I can live with that,” she says as she walks up the stairs, and I follow her, trying not to stare at her luscious ass swaying in front of me.
* * *
I never thought I’d like rom-coms, but for some reason, Jocelyn is starting to convert me. Tonight, we watched No Reservations. I told her it reminds me a bit of Cam and Fletcher, and then we had a whole breakdown of how those two got together.
Now, we’re eating rocky road ice cream out of a carton and watching Notting Hill.
“I never understood how they made it work. I mean, being famous has to be hard, right?” she says as she looks at me.
I shrug. “It wasn’t that hard.”
She turns on my sofa and looks at me. “What was it like?”
“You’re as bad as Ava,” I groan.
She pokes me in the belly. “Seriously? Did you, like, date supermodels and go to parties with famous people?”
I start laughing. “Hell no. I mean, I went to a few parties with a few famous people. And I guess if you count my teammates as famous people, then yeah, I saw famous people every day. But it’s not like that.
We’re just normal people that are…I mean, we're lucky enough to play our favorite sport as a career. My life wasn’t that crazy.
I did have a big house and some nice cars, but mostly, I went to practice or games and then came home and played video games or watched television. I was typically a homebody.”
She rolls her eyes. “You are a boring celebrity.”
I glare at her and cross my arms. Her gaze darts to my biceps, and I grin. Girls love my biceps, and secretly, I’m pleased that Jocelyn is also affected by them.
“And what would you do if you were famous?” I ask.
She rubs her hands together as if she’s been preparing for this question her whole life.
“OK, first, I’d go to one of those hot clubs that has a long line to get in, and I’d just walk right in and go to the VIP section and dance all night and get free expensive champagne.
And then, I’d go to a movie premiere so I could walk the red carpet and probably end up at some Hollywood party after.
And I’d definitely drunk-hookup with one of my celebrity crushes.
And then, I’d do a bunch of sponsored ad stuff on my social media to get free stuff.
Oh, and I’d make friends with celebrities with houses in cool places and then go stay with them or stay on their yachts or some shit,” she says excitedly.
I laugh. “Uh, OK, then.”
She shoves my bicep. “You suck. Those are great ideas.”
“Right,” I say sarcastically.
She rolls her eyes and turns back to the movie. “I’d make the coolest celebrity,” she grumbles.
I put my arm around her shoulder, and she leans her head against my pectoral muscle. “I’m sure you would, Hollywood Princess, I’m sure you would.”
She pokes me again, and then we continue watching the movie in silence.
She yawns, and I pull a blanket over us as she curls up more tightly against me.
By the time the credits roll, she’s fast asleep with her arm wrapped around my middle and her head on my shoulder.
I know I should wake her and take her home.
But instead, I grab her phone and punch in the code she gave me once when I needed to look up something, and her phone was closest. I text her mom and tell her she’s staying because she fell asleep studying.
And then I lie down and pull her alongside me.
Thank God I have one of those sofas that turns into a bed, and thank God I had the foresight to pull it out earlier.
She wraps her arm more tightly around me, groaning a little in her sleep. I kiss the top of her head.
“Sleep, my little Hollywood Princess,” I coo as I turn off the lamp behind us and fall into the best night of sleep I’ve had in a very long time.
My last thought as I pass out is wondering how I can stop myself from completely falling for Jocelyn.
And I’m pretty sure the fleeting thought after that, as I drift into slumber, is that it’s too late, I’ve already fallen for her.