16. Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
I ponder having the jersey on when he arrives.
Is that too much? My heart is racing. We haven’t seen each other in a while, it seems. Some face time calls. But this…him next to me suddenly has me nervous.
Why?
No, not nervous, excited. Too excited. I want to fling my arms around him and kiss him…and never stop.
If we were in a relationship, I’d open that door wearing his jersey and nothing else. We aren’t, though. Not that kind, anyway.
I hear the tap on the door. Damn, that was fast.
My hands are quivering. This is absolutely ridiculous.
I open it and there he stands, looking very much, just rolled out of bed, gorgeous. A flicker of what I think is disappointment hits his eyes and just as quickly goes away. He wanted me to be wearing it. It’s sweaty and smelly will be my excuse.
“That was fast,” I say.
He nods. I’m still blocking the doorway, entranced by the sight of him. He looks past me. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” I stammer and open the door for him. A whiff of cologne, our cologne, hits my nose. Did he put that on for me? Will he notice I did the same?
I pour him some coffee. He grins and smiles. “You smell nice this morning.”
“So do you.”
Another rap on the door, followed by “room service.”
“I ordered some food. I didn’t know if you’ve had breakfast or anything. What time did you guys get home? I’m surprised you’re up.”
“I actually sleep pretty well on the plane.”
“Really? Me too.”
“Plus, since that was an afternoon game, we got home at a somewhat normal hour.”
We both pause and watch as the waiter places virtually the entire breakfast menu on the table by the window. The waiter leaves the coffee, juice, and water on the cart and places them near the table. I escort the server out, tip him and head back in. I’m still so jittery. What is wrong with me?
“Is there anything you didn’t order?”
I tip my head and look at the array of food on the table. “It didn’t seem like that much as I was ordering it.”
We sit and I wait, wondering what TJ will go for first. The only other morning we’ve been together, we had coffee, that’s it. Waffles. I smile. I’m an egg guy. I grab the eggs benedict and some pepper.
“I can’t believe you’ve watched it already.” Does he do that often, I wonder.
“It was amazing, as always.”
Always. My breath hitches. Always. He watches, always.
“Well, I kind of stopped listening when you put my jersey on. That was, uh, distracting.” He smirks. “And very cool. You even got the right one?”
“There would have been a wrong one?”
“No, of course not. I just mean you had the special one from our game. I’m shocked they had any.”
“Well, I had help.” I waggle my brows. “The woman at the store informed me she had more at one of the other shops in the arena and went and got it for me.”
He laughs. “Well, it looks damn good on you.”
Stop it. My heart thumps again. “Tell me about the game. It was outside. Do you like that?” I shove a bite of perfectly poached egg into my mouth.
“I do. I think we all do. It’s a throwback to the roots of the game, playing on frozen ponds and lakes in the bitter winter cold, but not feeling any of it because you’re playing and it’s fun and it feels so good.”
“Did you start out playing like that?” Should I already know the answer to this question?
“No. I don’t know if many kids really do anymore.”
TJ looks out the window at the city. His city. I wonder if he has a similar view. He got here so quickly. “Is this the same view you have?”
He shakes his head.
“No, mine is the other way,” he points. “The mountains and our arena and the football stadium.”
I nod. The baseball stadium is included in our current view. And blinding sunshine. I look over at TJ. He looks relaxed and so gorgeous. His hair is a mess, and he has on jeans and a heavy black sweater over a t-shirt. I can just see the edge of gray around his thick neck.
“It’s really good to see you,” I say and swallow. “Oh, and Happy New Year.”
“Yes, Happy New Year to you.”
“Do you make resolutions?”
TJ snorts. “No. Hell, I hardly even acknowledge the day. You?”
“Not always, not for a very long time. I kind of feel like I don’t get to acknowledge the day anymore, either. But this year…” I look at him as he takes a banana into his mouth. I bite my lip and he doesn’t miss it. His eyes twinkle and he holds the banana in his lips way longer than he should. He finally bites down and winks at me. Fuck me. I exhale and shift in my chair.
“The concert last night got me thinking, though.”
“About?”
Will he think I’m nuts? Even though that was a big arena crowd. I felt connected to them. Because of the location. Because of TJ. Because of the jersey. For the first time in a long time, I felt like myself out there. I wasn’t just playing to colors and dots, remembering to say the correct city name and having them applaud me for that.
This crowd…TJ’s crowd…his arena…it just felt like home.
“I want to play smaller venues. Ironically, it was that large crowd yesterday that got me thinking and feeling like I have more to give. I felt connected to that crowd in a way I haven’t in far too long.”
TJ furrows his brow, not really sure what I mean. “5280 is not exactly a small venue.”
I smile. “I know and I’m not sure how to make how I felt make sense.” Without admitting it has everything to do with you and these feelings I’m having.
“I’m thinking small theaters, even at the University. With a nominal ticket price and maybe even students playing in my orchestra instead of my regulars or alongside them…you think I’m crazy?”
“You most certainly are not, because whatever has you this excited cannot be a bad thing.”
I exhale. “Thank you…I am excited. For the first time in ages, it feels like. My manager will never go for it, though.”
“You need a different manager.”
“That’s what Fynn says.”
“He’s right, Nandy. This is your life, your music. You are amazingly talented, and you have reached a point where you can do whatever you want with that talent. If small venues and cheap tickets and helping music students is what you want…then do it.”
“Fynn says that too.”
“He’s a smart man. I knew I liked him.”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“So what…will you feel better if you try and it isn’t what you want, or if we are still having this conversation, having not tried years from now?”
Years from now, us having a conversation at all. That’s optimistic.
“How can I help?”
I need you there, that’s all I need. How do I say that? I’ve looked at the schedule. This time block with my damn manager out of the country falls during the All-Star break.
“Are you on the All-Star team?”
“What? Uh, no, not this year.”
“My manager will be out of the country then…I’d like to do it then. Just easier than him trying to talk me out of it, or worse, being involved. I’d like you—”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I hear my phone vibrating on the coffee table and glance at my watch. Shit. I get up and text Randall to give me another 30 minutes.
“Do you have to go?”
I nod. “Yeah, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, this was amazing.” TJ pulls the Sharpie out of his pocket, and I laugh hard. “Hey, I wasn’t kidding.”
I retrieve the jersey and he scrawls his name across the back under his name. We walk to the door together and damn, I want to kiss him. As I’m having the thought, TJ leans in and brushes his face against my cheek. “I’m serious about the small concert,” he whispers into my ear. “Whatever you need from me, I’ll do it. Don’t you dare let go of that dream.” His lips barely caress my cheek…on purpose? An accident?
I cling to the bit of warmth I can feel from them. The tingle left on my skin from that hint of his lips. The softness. The slight scratch of his beard.
“Thanks for breakfast.”
“Thanks for the autograph.” I wink at him. The smile doesn’t leave my face for the rest of the day. Not even Randall’s grumpy ass can wipe it away.