Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
~DEX~
Itake the fact that she texted me to find out where I was a good sign.
Maybe she’s warming up to me being in her apartment.
I hadn’t realized how late it was since I spent so much time pouring over the files of the girls.
I had taken a few extra reads of the players that Lucas indicated were those who frequently came into the training room.
Amelia’s name is not the list, which makes me happy.
I would hate it if I had to be the one who restricted her playing time.
Especially since we’re living together, it could get awkward at home.
I turn the key in the lock and find the apartment lightly lit by the TV.
There’s a commercial playing when I look at it.
On the couch is Amelia, curled up on her side, softly snoring.
I smile taking in the image before me. I pick up my phone and take a picture of her.
She looks so sweet, peaceful and small lying there on the sofa.
I hadn’t realized how short she was until I was standing right in front of her today in the kitchen.
She was wearing those small sleep shorts, and small tank top, she looked like an angel standing there. I wanted to devour her.
The number of times I’ve mentally scolded myself for the thoughts I have about this woman is ridiculous. Given the fact that she is my roommate and I’m recovering from a divorce that I may have caused, I need to quit thinking of her that way.
I place the pizza that I’m carrying in the kitchen, and head back into the living room.
I walk over to where she sleeps. I reach over and push a strand of blonde hair that’s slightly damp from her face.
She’s wearing a pair of stretchy biker shorts and an oversized T-shirt that may cover her when she’s standing but right now, it’s showing me the curves of her ass.
When my hand lingers a little too long on her hair, she leans into my touch. I smile and wish I could explore her some more, but I can’t chance it. Or tempt fate. I don’t want her to think I’m being creepy.
“Hey, peach,” I say gently. “Do you want to eat?” I shake her gently and she sighs. I smile at the sound.
I lower myself to the edge of the couch and touch her arm. “Hey, you hungry for dinner, little girl? I finally came home.”
“What?” she says, rolling her torso slightly so that she’s facing me. “Oh hey, you’re back already.”
I chuckle. “I think you may have been sleeping because it’s been over an hour since we texted. It’s seven thirty.”
“Why did you make me wait so long?” she asks, her voice still heavy with sleep.
I grin. “Sorry, I was trying to decipher some patient notes that Cary left.”
She yawns and sits herself up, drawing her legs into her chest. “Yeah, he had terrible handwriting,” she mumbles, understanding my plight.
“Hence, why it took so long,” I say with a smile. I’m rewarded with a wide one from her as well.
“Either way, I don’t like to wait for food,” she teases me. Her voice is light and friendly. Not as growly as it was when I woke her up this morning.
“I will remember that,” I tease her back.
“Where is this food you speak of?” She looks around, sniffing the air. I notice her blink once, twice and a third time.
“You okay?”
She nods slowly. “Sorry, my contacts are adjusting. They are really dry from sleeping.”
“Where’s your solution? I can get it for you.” I offer.
She stares at me, still blinking rapidly.
I have no idea if she’s going to answer me.
So, I take off for the bathroom and open the cabinets that have been designated for her.
No solution. I pull open a drawer and there it sits.
In a little organizer with a bunch of bottles that could be lotions or perfumes. I grab it and head for the living room.
“Here you go,” I say, holding it out to her.
She accepts the bottle, tilting her head back so that the solution falls into her eyes when she squeezes the bottle. After another round of blinks, her eyes must be better. She’s watching me and smiling.
“Thanks for doing that.” She stands and moves toward the bathroom.
“Here, I’ve got that for you,” I tell her.
“Thanks,” she sounds surprised, but her smile is genuine, so I put that in the win column.
When I meet up with her in the kitchen, I see her pulling plates out of the cabinet.
“That pizza smells heavenly,” she says as she opens the box.
“I thought so too. I asked August where the best pizza was by the stadium, and he pointed me to Marco’s.”
“It really is. I usually don’t get it much because they don’t deliver.” She shrugs. “Convenience is key sometimes.”
“Delivery has its perks,” I tell her, wondering why I feel so nervous around her sometimes.
She attempts to pull a slice of pizza out of the box and swears under her breath when the cheese clings to the neighboring slices.
She pauses for a moment and glances in my direction, as if deliberating on how many slices she can conceivably take with me standing next her.
It makes me wonder how she would handle this if she were alone.
“Knives are where again?” I ask her.
She laughs and gestures to the drawer beside the fridge. Without saying a word, I retrieve a sharp one and help her get her piece onto her plate.
“I have a pizza cutter,” she declares.
“Why didn’t you tell me where that was?”
“You asked for a knife.” Amelia winks at me, goes to the fridge, grabbing a diet Dr. Pepper before heading into the living room. “Come on, we can have a couch picnic.”
I shake my head laughing, grabbing my pizza and a beer, and join her in the living room. We set up on opposite sides of the couch, but our bodies are turned towards one another. A sitcom continues to play on a low volume but neither of us is playing attention to it.
“You must have been good at the married stuff,” Amelia says to me.
Her comment catches me by surprise. “Why would you say that?” My throat goes dry, and I immediately reach for my beer, taking a quick swig.
“The way you took care of me with my contacts. Made me think that it was something you probably had to do a lot with your wife,” she says, taking a bite of her pizza. She studies me as she eats, waiting for me to answer her.
“Well, umm, Elise didn’t wear lenses. But I figured that was what you needed,” I tell her. I want to say more but I’m unsure of how to tell her that I wasn’t the best husband and that Elise probably would have fallen out of her chair had she been here to witness that.
“I bet you were good at other things, though,” she says casually, continuing to eat her pizza.
“I guess so.” I take a bit of my own slice.
It tastes so good. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good slice of pizza like this.
Elise didn’t like carbs. I don’t bother to say that to Amelia.
I still feel a bit protective of her; I don’t want her to hear the things that Elise didn’t do.
Or what I wished she had, like taking a day to eat a slice of pizza with me.
“You don’t want to talk about this, do you?” Amelia finally asks me, as she sits her slice down and reaches for the diet soda.
“No, not really,” I admit with a shrug. “It’s still kind of fresh. Maybe someday, not tonight.”
She nods, accepting that answer, which I appreciate. “Okay, then what did you do at the Blaze office for almost twelve hours? Was there really that much to do in the training room?”
I beam at her. This I can talk about. I’ve never been so thankful for a topic change.
“There was a lot of paperwork that needed to be filed. Cary must not have done it and I’m not even sure Lucas knew the system Cary had been using.
So, I had to redo all of that. I read the charts as best I could for your players that are currently injured or who have been complaining of aliments.
I got a swag pack from August. That was fun, actually.
” Amelia is taking everything in and really listening to the day I’m telling her about.
She’s leaned forward in her seat, watching me intently.
Not eating or drinking while I talk so I continue.
“I also had to have lunch with him and Maxwell, which was okay. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Maxwell.
And then it was organizing and inventorying the training room, making sure we have all the supplies we need. ”
“And let me guess, lots to order,” she teases.
“Actually, yes, not having a full-time head trainer was not the best decision on August’s part. But I’m here now, so I’ll fix that,” I tell her.
She grins the kind of grin that lights up her big brown eyes and lets you know she’s really seeing you. “Well, Cary wasn’t around a whole lot. And Lucas, well, I’m pretty sure he did whatever Cary said so he wasn’t stepping on his toes.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it’s going to be interesting when we’re both in the room working with you girls.
I want him to make the decisions he should have been making all along.
But I found a list on my desk a mile long of things that Cary was supposed to check for Lucas.
I have to address that with him when I see him tomorrow. ”
“Why does that not surprise me!” she exclaims.
“The training staff has kinda been a hot mess, huh?”
“It has. Thankfully,” she knocks on the wall beside her, before continuing, “there have been no serious injuries.”
“Well, that is good.” I look up from my dinner to catch her watching me. “What?”
“I’m wondering if you will actually enjoy being a trainer for a girls’ team. You know, after coming from the sidelines of the NFL.” She’s watching me carefully, biting her lip as she waits for me to answer.
“I think so. I gotta say, though, it was weird that your game could end in a tie like that. I was expecting a clear winner,” I admit with a shrug.
“That’s what happens in soccer sometimes.” She shrugs it off like it’s no big deal. And I guess, to her, it isn’t. She’s been around the game her entire life while I’m still learning.