Chapter 6 #2
“Mmk,” he hummed.
We walked another half block, slower than the walk to the bar had been. I couldn’t walk in a straight line. Something about the combination of standing up and the chilled air made me realize just how much I’d had to drink.
Then I stumbled.
Rowan’s reaction was immediate, reaching out to steady me.
One of his strong arms wrapped around my waist, and the cold faded from the parts of my skin he touched.
It had to be the alcohol that had me curling closer to his sturdy frame, because I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.
Rowan kept his arm secured around me all the way to the hotel, only dropping it at the door.
I could still feel it as I climbed into bed that night.
Two days later, I was still thinking about the way Rowan’s arm felt around my waist.
It wasn’t just the way his arm had felt around me.
That day at practice, I kept catching whiffs of that leather and wood smell.
I got distracted by the deep timbre of his voice when he spoke in my earshot, so distracted that at one point, I was late on the hand off from Liam and ended up flat on my ass by one of the defensive tackles.
Our offensive coordinator, Coach Jones, ripped me a new one for that one.
He’d made me stay after practice and had a whole conversation with me about staying focused.
I’d like to say it was the only time he’d had to have that conversation with me, but I didn’t like to lie, and that would’ve been a big one.
I had to focus. I had to stop thinking about how sturdy Rowan’s body felt against mine. I had to stop thinking about the way he smelled.
I could do it.
I could not do it.
Because when I’d come back from the grocery store, picking up Aunt Ethel’s shopping for the week, I caught another whiff of it, and my stomach dropped clear down to my toes.
My mouth actually went dry, and mental images that did not need to be in my head crowded in.
Mostly about very sinful things to do in that elevator.
I was very grateful when the elevator doors opened.
I rushed down the hallway to Aunt Ethel’s door and knocked.
A few minutes later, my elderly aunt opened the door to let me in.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said in lieu of any real greeting.
She reached out and took two of the lighter bags from me, barely relieving any weight from my load, and led me into the kitchen.
I followed her, not speaking until I dropped the heavy bags of groceries on the kitchen counter. “Have you ever had bad thoughts about someone completely inappropriate?” I asked her as I started to unpack my groceries.
My aunt studied me before grabbing the loaf of bread and putting it in the bread box on her counter, a handcrafted and hand painted thing my Aunt Annabelle had made her before I was even born. “Not in many years,” she answered. “Has someone caught your eye?”
I stacked cold items on one side of the counter as I emptied them from the bags.
“I don’t know if he’s caught my eye, but he’s definitely caught my imagination.
” Aunt Ethel grabbed the stack of lunch meat I’d made and started to put it away.
I caught the look on her face as she passed, urging me to go on and give her more information.
“You know the new guy on the floor? The tall redhead?”
“Your teammate?” Damn. She’d noticed that part. I’d hoped she would’ve just thought he was a random guy, but I should have known better. My aunt had not missed a single game of my entire career, even if she mostly watched them on television since my college days. “Ranger, I think it was?”
“Rangecroft,” I corrected gently as I passed her a pack of sliced deli cheese. “Rowan Rangecroft. But yes, my teammate. Like I said, completely inappropriate.”
She put the cheese away and reached a wrinkled hand back toward me for more refrigerated items. “Tell me about him?”
“He’s…” I thought for a moment. What could I tell my aunt about Rowan Rangecroft?
“He’s hot. He’s a good football player. Surface level, but he’s kind of hard to get to know.
He doesn’t talk a lot, but when he does talk, it’s like you’re the only person in the room with him, even when you’re not.
He gives you his full attention, and he talks like he’s known you forever.
Like a few weeks ago, I got locked out—”
“I remember,” Aunt Ethel interrupted.
I glowered at her as I passed a carton of eggs over.
She knew I hated when people interrupted me, which wasn’t fair, because I tended to interrupt people nonstop.
No one said people had to make perfect sense.
“Anyway, a few weeks ago, when I got locked out, he told me all these stories about his best friend and his sister. They’re married, and they have kids, and he loves them and their kids.
Like his eyes just lit up when he was talking about them.
Then, when we were in Portland, we all went out to this bar, and I made him come sit with me, Liam, and Jonesy, and by the end of the night, he had me rolling with some of his stories of going out with the Foxes back when he played for them. ”
I took a deep breath, and Aunt Ethel took that as an invitation to speak again. “And now you have a little bit of a crush on him?”
“No!” I exclaimed. The speed at which I shouted it told me that it was a lie. It was that old saying about people protesting too much. I was protesting too much. I sighed and started putting away the canned goods. “Maybe. A little. But I mean, we’re teamma—”
“So are Liam and Jonesy,” Aunt Ethel interrupted again, “and no one seems to mind them.” I hated when Aunt Ethel got all logical. “Do you think he likes you?”
I thought back to all my interactions with Rowan.
He was nice to me, but he also had a tendency to look annoyed when I talked too much.
I’d see little flashes like I’d seen that night in the gym when he’d snapped at me.
He’d never given me any indication that he thought of me as anything other than a slightly annoying teammate.
Maybe, begrudgingly, a friend. I shook my head. “No.”
Aunt Ethel started gathering the empty grocery bags and crumbling them into one.
“Well, then, it sounds like maybe you’ll just have to settle for being his friend and teammate.
” I already knew that. “But then again, I’ve known you your whole life.
You never have been good at picking up on things.
Remember that neighbor boy from when you first moved in with me and Annie, after your folks?
” I nodded. “He was over the moon for you, but instead of paying him any mind, you went for that horrible Henry boy. Remember him? Annie hated him.”
I never knew that Aunt Annabelle had hated Henry.
He’d been my first serious boyfriend when I was sixteen.
I’d thought the sun rose and fell on him, but he’d just been the first in a very long line of horrible men I’d dated.
Aunt Ethel was wrong about the neighbor boy though.
I’d had a crush on him before I met Henry, and he’d never made any moves.
“You know what I think,” Aunt Ethel said as she stuffed the empty bags under the kitchen sink.
She didn’t wait for me to answer before straightening her spine as much as she could, trying to draw herself back up to her former height of 5’3 and falling short.
“I think you need your auntie Ethel to meet him. Get a read on him. I’ll tell you if he likes you, because you’re not too bright when it comes to things like that. ”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Oh, you know I’m right. Remember Andrew?”
“We are not talking about Andrew.” Talk about disaster ex-boyfriends. I’d almost given up on dating after Andrew. Aunt Ethel opened her mouth like she was not going to let the Andrew topic drop, and I knew she needed to be distracted. “What did you have in mind?”
I was going to regret this.
Notes
Yes, I know ALF players travel back the same night after a game, but I think bar and hotel shenanigans are a lot more fun than loading them onto planes. No one said fan fiction had to be 100% grounded in reality.