Chapter 12 #2
God, if his sweatpants slipped down any further, two moons would be shining in this kitchen. And she didn’t care about the one outside in the sky.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, massaging the bridge of her nose. “I was just surprised that you don’t dress when you have guests.”
She could have sworn he smiled, but she wasn’t certain because he turned his back to her and continued fiddling around on the countertop.
That wasn’t much better because his back muscles were at least as…
visible as his abs. And as he heaped some kind of powder into a mug, she could see exactly which ones he was flexing.
“I’m compromising by wearing pants,” he mumbled. “It’s way too hot for anything else. I’m used to the temperatures in the ice arena. And you shouldn’t talk. I wouldn’t call you dressed.”
Her stomach clenched as she glanced down at her bare legs. His shirt only reached mid-thigh. Nervously, she tugged the hem downward, only for the collar to slip off her shoulder.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be down here.”
“Same here. Is something wrong with the bed?”
“No, the bed’s fine.”
“Then why aren’t you in it?”
“I…I just don’t sleep well in places where I feel uncomfortable.”
His shoulder muscles tensed. “The house is safe. No one’s getting in here. And Devreaux is harmless.”
“Devreaux isn’t the problem, Austin.”
He slowly turned and leaned against the counter before studying her thoughtfully. “Hmm. It’s new to me to be called a problem. Most of the time, I’m the solution. I almost won the team’s innocent victim trophy last year — before you showed up, my life was ridiculously scandal-free.”
She snorted. “Do you know what they say about you on the internet?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“They all say you’re the most open, communicative, friendly player on the Hawks — and that’s why you make such a good captain. So why do I get the feeling that you talk about me…but not to me?”
“You should start a professional career in the NHL and join the Hawks; then I’d be contractually obligated to talk to you,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have the time for that.”
“Nor the muscle mass. But whatever. The sport would be too physical for you anyway.”
She rolled her eyes, even though the word gave her goosebumps.
“Austin, can we…I don’t know, start over?
I feel like there’s so much between us that we’re filling an entire room with our suppressed emotions.
Maybe we should just open up about everything.
” She gathered her hair into a ponytail and let it fall again.
“About back then, about my anger, about your anger, about my wishes, your wishes, and…generally about where we stand now.”
“I’m standing in my kitchen,” he replied, unfazed. “And you’re getting on my nerves.”
“You’re wrong,” she replied matter-of-factly. “You’re getting in your own way. I stand by what I just said.”
“Well, I’m not into talking about the past. I hope you understand that.”
“Fine,” she said, surrendering and throwing up her hands. “Well, if that’s how you feel…” She trailed off, frowning at the counter behind him. “Are you making hot chocolate?” she asked, surprised.
“Is that against the law?”
“No. You just don’t look like a man who drinks hot chocolate.”
“Because I’m not made of chocolate?” he asked dryly. “Believe me, I’d like something stronger, but my stupid rules forbid it.” He poured milk into his mug and put it in the microwave.
“Do you have enough for a second one?” she blurted out.
He didn’t answer.
Frustration burned holes in her stomach and she gritted her teeth. Good! If he didn’t want to talk to her, she wasn’t going to force him. “Good night, Austin,” she said wearily and was about to turn to leave when he murmured, “I wanted to watch the videos.”
Blinking, she paused. “What?”
“The videos you gave me.” He turned to her and pulled the USB drive from his sweatpants pocket. “If you can’t sleep anyway…do you want to watch them with me?”
Surprised, she opened her mouth.
“You can fill me in on what’s going on,” he explained quietly. “It would be like watching the videos with live commentary from the director.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I’m no Spielberg, but I know the lead actress rather well.”
“You’ve got the job,” he said calmly, his eyes fixed on her face. “Then sit on the couch — while I make another hot chocolate.”
She shuddered heavily and nodded. She would accept this peace offering with both hands. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome. It might not feel like it, but I really am trying,” he replied almost inaudibly.
“I believe you,” she murmured and disappeared into the living room.
Austin followed a few minutes later, placed the two mugs on the square coffee table, and plugged the USB drive into the television.
“They’re in chronological order,” she murmured, pulling a cushion onto her lap and tucking her feet under her bottom.
Thankfully, the dark blue loveseat was large enough that they didn’t have to touch when Austin sank down next to her.
She could feel herself automatically sliding closer to him as the cushion gave way under his weight, though.
Austin nodded and started the first video. In it, she was rocking Del back and forth on an exercise ball as a baby.
“Shit, she looks like me,” he murmured. “Well…in a feminine way.”
She smiled. “I know.”
“What was she like as a baby?” he asked, while Lilly watched herself staring at Delfina as if she were the most precious gift she’d ever received.
Well, that was true.
“She was incredibly loud,” she murmured. “And only quiet when I was bouncing on that thing. But she slept well and still does.”
Austin smiled and nodded as the second video automatically played and then the third. They watched Delfina grow older, bite into a lemon for the first time, eat ice cream for the first time, go in the water for the first time…
“Is that her on the three-meter diving board?” Austin asked incredulously.
“Yep. She was just six and didn’t even tell me. God, she’s a rascal! I swear she’s not afraid of anything! I had to keep an eye on her the whole time and she still jumped off every wall that I couldn’t get her off in time.”
Nonna Rossi walked into the frame, her long, dark blue smock dress fluttering in the wind like a flag on a mast. She gestured toward the camera, which was almost certainly being held by Antonella, her daughter and Lilly’s best friend in Italy, while Lilly stood anxiously by the pool with her hand on her forehead as Del looked down at her, grinning from cheek to cheek.
“Do you see the cut on Del’s cheek?” She moved closer to him so Austin could follow her finger to the screen more easily. Her knee grazed his thigh. “She got it playing sports. She wanted to try a bicycle kick during soccer because she saw it on TV.”