Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Reese
?
?
Taking my eyes off the sandwich I just picked up, I look across the table at Brodie, who’s suddenly gone quiet, and try to figure out why he seems… Annoyed?
“What?”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“That I like fishing?” I dunk my sandwich into the bowl of au jus. “Yeah, why? Do you think that’s weird?”
“And the other things?”
“Scary movies and baking?” I frown at him. Why does he keep looking at me like that?
“Do you know who I am?”
“Should I?” I let my eyes wander over his face. Did I actually recognize him this afternoon like I thought I had? Is he some famous actor or something? “Are you famous?”
“I play pro hockey.”
“You play hockey? For like a job?”
He jerks up his chin.
“I don’t watch hockey,” I say.
“So, you never read the article about me that came out two months ago in LifeNStylez , where I said that my three favorite things are fishing, scary movies, and baking?”
“I’ve never even heard of that magazine.” I shake my head, trying to wrap my mind around the last thing he said. “You like baking?”
“I’m being serious right now, Reese. I’m trying to figure out if this is all just some strange coincidence or if...”
It clicks. Right then, in that moment, it clicks. The weird look on his face, the way he seems freaked, maybe even a little mad.
“Oh, my God. You think I’m some weird stalker fan,” I breathe in disbelief.
“I didn’—”
“How would I even go about that?” I ask with zero humor, placing my sandwich on the plate and dusting off my hands.
“I don’t know.” He scrubs his fingers through his hair.
“Right.” I pick up my bag from beside me, ready to bolt. “Before I leave, I would just like to point out that I didn’t sit by you at the pool. You sat by me. I didn’t try to talk to you; you talked to me. And I didn’t ask you to dinner; you asked me. So, unless I enthralled you with my beauty and wit and have some kind of magical power that manipulated you into doing all those things, I don’t see how you’d think that I set this whole situation up.” I start to stand but stop when he gets there before me and blocks my path.
“You’re right,” he says quietly, looking down at me. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”
“Let me guess, women are constantly throwing themselves in your path or trying to find ways to get your attention.”
“Something like that,” he mutters, looking uncomfortable. I have to admit, I feel a little bad for him if his first assumption about having a few things in common with someone is that they dug up that information from somewhere and are trying to play him.
“Don’t go, okay? I shouldn’t have assumed you’d do something like that,” he pleads. “It was wrong of me to think that.”
“Very wrong.”
“Very wrong,” he agrees. Then asks quietly, “Are you staying?”
I nod and then wait for him to retake his seat across from me.
“Do you really like baking, or is that something you made up so women would find you endearing?”
“No, I enjoy it. It’s relaxing.” He picks up his burger and meets my gaze. “You really like fishing?”
“I love it, or rather, I love ice fishing. My—” I cut myself off.
“Your?”
“When I was growing up, I would go with my best friend’s dad and him almost every weekend in the winter. There is something magical about being in that little hut, waiting for a fish we would cook right there after pulling it out of the water.” I shrug. “I haven’t gone in a long time, but that is one of my favorite memories from when I was a kid.”
“Have you ever gone deep-sea fishing?”
“No, have you?”
“I go whenever I get the chance.” His gaze wanders over my face. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing. I have the day off.”
“Do you want to go out fishing with me?”
“Are you serious?”
“I never joke about fishing.”
“Then, yeah. That sounds like fun.”
“All right.” He sets his burger down and takes his cell phone out of his pocket. I watch him type something, and then he sets it aside and resumes eating until it dings a moment later. After he picks it up and checks the screen, his eyes meet mine. “Does eight work for you?”
“Sure.” I dunk one of my fries into some ketchup.
Dropping his gaze, he quickly texts something back before lifting his burger once more. “We’ll meet the charter company I use in the morning, and they’ll take us out.”
“It must be nice to be rich and famous,” I joke, then cringe because it’s obvious that who he is is a sensitive topic for him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Don’t be.” He shrugs. “I deal with that kind of shit from my family all the time.”
“They give you a hard time about it?”
“Constantly.” He smiles. “My brother is the worst.”
“So, when you say you play pro hockey, I’m guessing that means you’re pretty good.”
“I don’t suck.” His smile is tinged with a bit of cockiness.
“I don’t know much about hockey. How long have you been playing?”
“Since I was a kid. My dad bought me my first pair of skates when I was four. I joined my first team when I was seven and have been playing ever since. You’ll have to come to a game when the season starts up.”
“I’m not really a fan of sporting events.” I hated watching Kirk play football, so I avoided his games like the plague, which probably made me a pretty crappy girlfriend. I just didn’t enjoy the violent aspects of the sport and would sit there the whole time with a pit in my stomach, knowing that one wrong hit could cause irrevocable damage. And knowing what little I do about hockey, I imagine it would be the same thing.
“What sports do you like?”
“None.” I tip my head to the side. “That’s a lie. That sport they play in the Olympics, where they sweep that black ball thing with brooms down the ice, is pretty cool.”
“Curling is not a sport.”
“It’s in the Olympics, so I’d guess they’d disagree with you on that topic.”
I listen to him laugh, the deep sound just as attractive as he is, especially when his eyes crinkle at the corners. The dimple in his left cheek, which I didn’t notice before, shows ever so slightly. Ignoring the flutter in my lower belly, I focus on eating and just enjoying his company.
Being friends is safe, but there is no way I’ll entertain more than that with an apparently famous hockey player who has women throwing themselves at him.