Charlotte
“Should we hit up High Point or Little Man?” I ask once Addie is situated in the passenger seat of my car. It feels like I’ve been driving myself a lot more lately. I’m not going to lie, I miss my chauffeur. And not just because I’d rather be driven around.
I miss the way it feels to have someone care about my day. I miss the quiet companionship of riding along, listening to music. I miss the way I can feel Callan in every pore of my body. I miss him.
“Remind me why we’re getting ice cream at eleven on a Tuesday in January.” Addie rubs her hands together like it’s not sunny and forty-five outside.
“Because I’m spiraling and I need a friend. And you said you only leave your house for ice cream.” I start driving, deciding I’ll let traffic patterns decide where we’re going. Path of least resistance feels like the right choice today.
Addie throws up her hands. “I was obviously joking. I didn’t want to leave my house. It’s fucking cold out here.”
“Could you be more Texan right now? It’s not that cold.”
She glares at me. “Don’t bully me, or I’ll make you spiral alone.”
“Fine. It’s so cold,” I deadpan.
“Thank you.” Addie fiddles with the vent, making sure the heat is pointed directly at her. “Now, spill the beans. Is this a work freak-out or a good old-fashioned boy freak-out?”
“Por que no los dos?” I ask. Because let’s be honest, it’s definitely both.
“Fair enough. I fully embraced los dos, too, before I moved here. Damn, that was a dark time in my life.”
I give her a sympathetic smile. I know I’m blessed to have never had to worry about money before. Even if having it comes with its own issues, it’s certainly better than wondering if you can pay for the roof over your head or food to eat. Not that Addie was ever at that level.
“Okay, so spill it. Are we starting with the Stallions or with your stallion?” She double pumps her eyebrows as she says it.
I roll my eyes. “He would love that you called him that so much.”
“That’s because the man is obsessed with you. And he undoubtedly has an ego the size of the great state of Texas. All professional athletes do.”
Not untrue. “I am pretty stressed out about this weekend. I’ve basically drawn a line in the sand with Hugo that he can’t go talking about next year being a building year if we’re not even sure that we can’t turn this season around.
So, a lot is riding on this game. Because if we don’t make it deeper into the playoffs, there might be some major roster changes.
Like, major.” And I have no idea what I’m going to do about it if they do.
Addie narrows her eyes. “How major?”
I bite my lips, saying nothing, but I can feel her gaze on me as she works through it.
“Are we talking starting-quarterback-type changes? Hypothetically, of course.”
I nod once; my gaze locked on the road in front of me as I navigate the streets of Denver’s LoHi neighborhood.
“Shit.”
That is precisely how I feel about it. But also tremendous amounts of anger. Some guilt. Throw in some exasperation, to make it all flow together nicely. “Exactly. And…” I sigh. “Things aren’t going perfectly with getting a new sponsor for the team, either.”
“Oh, that’s right. You had your dinner last night. Did it not go well?” Addie asks.
I gnaw on my lip before answering, “It went fine. Callan couldn’t make it because a team meeting ran long, and that definitely didn’t help the cause. This guy is Callan’s biggest fan, so it put a damper on the whole evening.”
She scrunches her nose. “Ooof. Tough. Do you still think he’s a possibility?”
“I’m not sure. I’m feeling less confident than I was prior to the meeting.”
Addie studies my face. “And are we mad at Callan for missing it? Is that the boy drama?”
I shake my head. “No. You know I, of all people, understand work running late. How many times have I had to push or cancel dinners because some artist or another needed special attention?”
We finally reach the milk-pail-shaped building, and I park. Addie pulls a winter hat over her strawberry-blonde hair, tugging the scarf tighter around her neck.
“You know, you might not be cut out for the great white north that is Colorado,” I warn her. “Maybe you need to move further south.”
“Or I should stop going outside in the winter,” she offers as we walk to the building.
No one else is around, so Addie orders quickly, gasping as her glove-clad fingers wrap around her cup of ice cream.
“I’ll have…” I scan the menu again, unable to decide on a flavor. They all look good. They are all good. But what if I get salted Oreo, but this batch is too salty? Or I get mint chip but then regret not getting cookie dough… or space junkie. Their 16th Street sounds interesting.
“I hate going places with you where you have to order,” Addie comments from deep inside her coat where she’s cocooning herself.
“You literally make decisions worth tens if not hundreds of thousands of dollars in less time than you’ve thought about what flavor of ice cream to get.
It still blows my mind how you can be so certain about big things and get your panties into such a bunch about the small, completely inconsequential things. ”
“Can I get half salted Oreo, half Mexican chocolate in a single scoop?” I finally ask. It seems like the woman is going to say no but decides it’s not worth the effort.
Once the cup is in my hand, Addie declares it’s far too cold to eat ice cream outside, much to the amusement of the woman scooping the ice cream, so we head back to the car.
“You’re ridiculous.” I turn the heat higher, letting the car idle as we sit and eat our cold treats.
“And you’re stalling. I understand your work drama sucks. I’m still mad at Daddy Langford on your behalf. But since Callan ditching you isn’t what you’re worried about, I feel there is much more tea that needs spilleth.”
I take a big bite of ice cream. “I think I like him.” It comes out garbled around the food in my mouth.
“I’m sorry, you want to bite him?” Addie shrugs. “That doesn’t seem like too big a deal. I don’t know if biting is its own kink, but I’m sure if you ask him about it, he’d be at least willing to try.”
I whack her arm. “I think I like him. I’m not a vampire.
I don’t want to bite him.” Okay, I might’ve bitten him once last month.
But in my defense, I was absolutely combusting after he edged me for close to an hour, and I could hear the TV in the room next to ours.
So, I had to muffle my scream somehow. And he didn’t seem to mind since it sent him over the edge with me.
She watches me for a moment. “I’m not tracking. Of course you like him. You’ve lived with the guy for six months and spend a ton of time with him. You were either going to like him or murder him. No other option. I think the biting is the bigger deal.”
I laugh before growing serious again. “I like him, like him.” My gaze stays locked on my ice cream.
“That’s the most middle-school thing anyone has said to me in at least fifteen years.” Addie licks ice cream off her spoon like I didn’t just make a huge confession.
I let my head drop back in the seat. “I feel like I’m in middle school. I have a crush on a guy and don’t know what to do about it.”
“Do you have to do anything about it?” She asks it slowly, like I should’ve already thought of this.
“What do you mean?”
“I think you two are well past the like stage. I mean, you’re living with the man you spend all your time with and who you have sex with on a regular basis. You’re basically one gigantic diamond ring away from being engaged.”
Sex has become part of our routine, but I shake my head.
“No. No, it’s…” I want to say it’s different.
I do. Because this was a fake relationship, even if I was starting to think I wanted more.
But now that I’m actually sitting here evaluating it, I don’t know what would make it real, besides us calling it that.
And what happens after Dad makes his decision?
Plus, I’m not sure whether Callan is on board with it becoming real.
Possibly because I haven’t talked to him about it.
“Most relationships don’t come with an expiration date,” I remind my friend.
She nods. “And it would be so hard to get rid of the one you have.”
“Your sarcasm is noted and not appreciated. I can’t be like, ‘Oh, by the way, let’s not end things. Turns out you have a live-in girlfriend now!’”
It’s one of the issues I’m running into. Addie’s right. We live together. It’d be skipping so many relationship steps.
“One”—Addie holds up a finger—“I think you definitely could do that. Though, I wouldn’t do it with that weird serial killer voice you chose to use. Or, two, you could talk to him. Like a normal thirty-five-year-old woman.”
“I’m thirty-four, you ass.”
“Still probably mature enough to tell the man you like that you want to try dating him for real.”
I pop my knuckles. “I can’t even pick an ice cream flavor. How am I supposed to be able to choose who to be with for the rest of my life?” And why does it currently feel easier than choosing between Mexican chocolate and double fudge?
“I obviously don’t know since I’m single AF, but it seems like you’ve already chosen. You just have to tell him. Plus, unlike me, you’ve always been good at making the big decisions. And who you spend your life with seems like the biggest decision of them all.”
She’s right; I know she is. And as I navigate home after dropping Addie off at her apartment, I finally make the decision that feels both the easiest and the hardest one I’ve ever made: I’m going to tell Callan I want more. That I want us.