Chapter 2
HUDSON
An elated whoop cut through the din of crashing pins and conversation.
Our opponents for the night had scored another strike.
We’d already lost the first of the three games in our match against the Dewey Decimators librarian team.
I was too competitive to give up another win, especially in the first match of the spring season.
I watched the pinsetter spit out Ollie’s neon-green ball that matched our godawful shirts and lifted my cup to take another drink of beer but found it empty.
Leo moved into my line of sight and swapped the empty cup with a cool, fresh one before returning to his seat next to me.
He’d been particularly attentive tonight, which I’d shamelessly soaked up, given my epically cruddy work week.
“Thanks, Leo.” Before he glanced away, I noticed a pinkish hue on his cheeks. He was the designated driver tonight, so I wasn’t sure why his face was flushed.
Between the beer, laughing at Leo and Ollie smack-talking other teams, and concentrating on my turns, I’d nearly pushed work out of my head.
That space was occupied with obsessing over why I’d caught Leo looking at me more often than usual.
It was unnerving, like he knew something I didn’t. I was probably overreacting.
“Don’t worry about your last turn. We’ll make it up.
” He must’ve mistaken my pondering face for my frustrated one.
He patted my leg. The ancient plastic seats had us packed in like sardines.
It wasn’t unusual for Leo to stretch his arm across my chair since we were often pressed against each other, but this time his hand lingered for a few seconds longer than usual.
“I’ve got an idea. Next time you bowl, imagine you’re throwing your boss’s head at the pins.”Leo’s warm, grenadine-scented breath tickled my cheek. He must’ve chugged a Shirley Temple while getting me a beer.
I barked out a laugh. “You want me to picture my boss’s decapitated head rolling down the lane?”
“Couldn’t hurt.”
“Except for the fact his head wouldn’t roll evenly, which would distract me way too much.”
Leo hummed. “Fair point. Instead, visualize the pins as a bunch of tiny versions of him that you can squash with your mean hook.”
“I don’t have a mean hook.”
Leo’s dark eyes twinkled. “Oh yeah. I forgot.”
I bumped my shoulder against his and laughed.
Ollie leaned toward us from Leo’s other side. “What are you two talking about?”
“Hudson’s mean hook.”
Ollie covered his mouth and let out an exaggerated gasp. “Hudson can throw any way but straight now? Mark this day for the history books.”
“Yuk it up, clowns.”
“Speaking of clowns. How’s it going living with this Bozo?” Ollie jerked his thumb at Leo. “Ready to kick his ass out yet? If his stuff at home is as messy as his crap at work, you’ve gotta be fed up.”
I snorted. “I’ve learned to tolerate him. I mean, the mess.”
“Hey!” Leo flipped us both off.
I nudged my shoulder into his. “Leo’s room’s a total disaster, but we’ve figured out how to avoid killing each other. It’s going pretty well, actually.”
His room was far too disorderly for me to step foot in, but it could’ve been worse. Much worse. He put more effort into our shared spaces, which I appreciated.
“I wish I could find a boyfriend I got along with like the two of you do,” Ollie said wistfully. Leo nearly choked on his swig of water.
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that. Leo and I had become fast friends when we met through bowling a couple of years ago, and I couldn’t imagine life without him.
I’d hated having roommates in college and preferred living alone before moving in with my ex, but Leo was so easy to be around that I didn’t wish for my own place.
Past roommates and exes had never understood my need to keep things organized and tidy.
Then again, they hadn’t been raised in complete disarray by a parent with borderline hoarding disorder and filthy tendencies.
Leo hadn’t either, but he at least respected that I needed things to be a certain way to feel safe and comfortable.
As I half listened to Leo and Ollie bantering with each other, it hit me that Leo cared more about me feeling comfortable in our home than any extra work my cleanliness standards gave him. I rubbed my chest to ease the flutters.
Leo turned his head toward me and smiled. The little gap in his front teeth aligned perfectly with the divot in his chin. He ran his hand through his dark hair—short at the sides and longer on top.
“You okay?”
I nodded and looked away from his warm umber eyes to watch our teammate finish her turn.
Moving in with Leo several months ago had given me a soft cushion to land on after a stressful divorce. I’d always known I could count on him to make me laugh on tough days or leave something for me to clean when I had frustrated energy to burn.
“On that note, it looks like I’m up.” Leo stood and nearly tripped over one of his shoelaces.
I wished Leo would get his own shoes so he wouldn’t have to worry about rentals with crappy laces that never stayed tied.
It was an insurance claim waiting to happen.
I would rather forfeit than borrow nasty shoes from a bowling alley.
Leo thought them spraying the shoes did enough to kill the funk from all the people who’d slipped their sweaty feet in before him. Leo was delusional.
When he reached for his ball, the back of his shirt hiked up to reveal a sliver of skin and the top of his ridiculous American-flag boxers he’d bought last Fourth of July.
He’d worn them tugged above the waistband of his cargo shorts to the bowling alley picnic.
And then he’d had the audacity to try to steal the firecracker sugar cookies I’d made, but he knew better. I always made him his own batch.
Ollie startled me by clearing his throat pointedly. I couldn’t read the glint in his eye as he looked between Leo and me.
“Been on any good dates lately?” I asked. I had no interest in getting back out there to date for dating’s sake. As someone happy enough being single, my relationships were few and far between. But I always enjoyed Ollie’s tales from the trenches.
“Achieving a ‘good date’ status requires not getting ghosted.”
I grimaced. “That’s brutal. I don’t get why people do that.”
“You and me both.” Ollie sighed and slumped in his seat.
We watched one of the librarians take their turn before Leo finished his frame.
“I wonder if Leo realizes how bad it is out there.”
I snapped my head toward Ollie. “What do you mean?”
Ollie nibbled his bottom lip. “He’s thinking about dating again. But he never had to deal with the apps, you know? He’s in for a shock.”
I frowned. Leo was ready to date again? We’d been living together since his divorce was finalized about four months ago.
We’d celebrated the holidays together when we weren’t with our families and had our own I hate Valentine’s Day singles night.
I hadn’t missed dating, but just because it wasn’t on my radar didn’t mean it wasn’t on his.
I shouldn’t be surprised since Leo had never been alone—he’d gone from having college roommates to living with his high school sweetheart.
He thrived on being social far more than me.
Heck, he’d probably been holding off on dating to make sure I was settled in my new life.
I was. Totally okay.
I wouldn’t get between Leo and his dating plans, even if the idea made me queasy. That’s just the beer and nachos.
Leo was a relationship guy and probably beyond ready to jump into something with whoever was willing. Not that he didn’t have standards, but he was a catch. Who wouldn’t flock to him?
I forced a deep breath through my nose as I watched Leo knock down seven pins.
Things would be fine if Leo started dating again.
It didn’t mean we wouldn’t still be friends.
Sure, we might hang out less, skip some of our weekly taco Tuesday dinners, monthly Sunday brunches, and payday pizza parties, but we’d found ways to spend time together when we were married.
It would be okay. I would be okay. I would support him in whatever he wanted.
Leo managed a spare and aimed finger guns at me. I aimed right back, then we both blew on the tips of our index fingers—a ritual when either of us got a strike or spare.
Before Leo returned to his seat, Ollie stopped him. “Hold up, I want to get a photo.”
Leo flexed his arm and kissed his bicep, which made the hem of the black sleeve strangle the muscle. He was shorter than me, tight and lean, but the man was surprisingly strong.
“I’ll text it to you for your dating profile.” Ollie was already tapping away on his screen.
Leo’s eyes snapped to mine, and there was something unreadable there. My phone buzzed a few seconds later. Ollie had sent the photo to Leo and me. I saved it to my camera roll so I could use it as his new contact photo.
“You’re up,” Ollie said.
Grabbing my ball and lining up for my shot was almost automatic. I tuned out the pins falling in other lanes and the classic rock playing over the old sound system to focus on the weight of the ball in my hand.
Five steps, then throw. It didn’t need to be more complicated than that.
I inhaled through my nose, exhaled through my mouth, then took that first step.
The ball rolled smoothly down the center of the lane.
Come on, come on . It crashed into the middle pin with enough force to cause a domino fall. Strike!
My teammates jumped up and cheered. Leo’s smile was soft as he pulled out his finger guns and made pew-pew sounds. I returned the gesture.
“You guys are too cute,” Ollie said as he mimicked our finger guns.
I didn’t know how to respond. I was used to Ollie’s remarks about how close Leo and I were, but he wasn’t usually so pointed.
Despite the teasing, I would enjoy his attention while I had it because there was no way an incredible guy like Leo would stay single for long once he put himself back on the market.