15. Sienna
SIENNA
“What’s all this?” Calvin asks as he walks into my apartment before he heads out with the team the next night.
“I thought you were busy tonight,” I point out as I lower myself back to the floor where I was before he interrupted.
“Just wanted to check in.”
I roll my eyes at him, making sure he sees. “I told you I was okay like, an hour ago.”
“I know. But I wanted to make sure.”
“You’re a pain in my ass, Cavin Keller.”
“You love it,” he taunts as he carefully lowers his ass to my couch.
He’s wearing a dark pair of jeans and a white button-down with the arms rolled up to expose his tanned forearms. It’s simple, but oh-so hot.
His hair is still damp from his shower, curling at the nape of his neck, and he still hasn’t shaved, leaving his jaw covered in scruff that looks like it would scratch in the best kind of way.
“So, what’s all this?” he asks again, glancing at the chaos surrounding me.
“Uh…business plans.”
He quirks a brow. “Someone must be feeling better.”
“Yeah. I need to go back to work tomorrow.”
“What are you planning?”
I shrug, suddenly feeling silly for doing all of this. But I had to do something. This morning wasn’t too bad, but this afternoon, I was climbing the walls.
So, I may or may not have jumped into planning something that Bea might not even be interested in.
It was either that or I go to Home Depot for paint and begin decorating something.
Fear of getting halfway through and needing to stop for a nap was real, though, so I put that idea on the back burner for another day.
Before I have a chance to explain, Calvin leans forward and steals a piece of paper from the coffee table, his eyes scanning over it.
“You’re expanding?”
Embarrassment colors my cheeks.
“I don’t know. Things have been wild these last few months. It’s the hockey effect.”
Calvin chuckles.
“We’re booked out with wait lists as long as our arms. I don’t know if Bea is interested, but I think we could easily book out another salon, or possibly move to a bigger location.”
“I think it’s a smart idea,” he tells me. “If the opportunity is there, you should go for it.”
I smile, pride racing through me.
“What other options have you come up with?’
I grab three more pieces of paper and hand them over.
“Oh shit, this one is nice. That space is huge.”
“It has so much potential,” I explain as he looks at the massive, empty space. “We could build the salon of our dreams in there. It would come at a huge cost, though.”
“Yeah, but it could bring in a fuck load if you got it right.”
“It’s probably a step too far.”
Calvin lowers the paper and stares at me.
“Your dream is never a step too far, darlin’.”
I blink at him, his words catching me off guard.
“I mean, assuming it is your dream.”
“It is. There isn’t anything else I’d rather do. I’d love to have my own place, but I don’t have the kind of money required for that.”
“If you did, what would you do?”
I sigh as I picture my ideal salon, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m laying it all out for him.
“So it’s this place, then?” he says, holding up the old warehouse listing.
“Yeah. I just need to win the lottery first.”
“You play?” he asks.
“Uh…no. So I guess I’m hoping for a miracle.”
“They can happen,” he says, sounding weirdly positive for someone who admitted that he’s struggling at the moment.
“Yeah, I guess,” I mutter, taking all the paperwork back from him. “This all might be a bit too much, though. Bea’s already got enough going on with her pregnancy and Rett.”
“Yeah. Rett can be hard work. I reckon the baby will be a walk in the park compared to him,” Calvin deadpans.
“That wasn’t what I meant,” I laugh.
He shrugs.
“I’ve crunched the numbers. Getting a second place is the cheaper option. Especially if we went for one of these that have been salons previously. But—”
“It’s not what you really want?”
“It’s not about what I want. It’s Bea’s business. It’s her baby. I’m just her manager.”
“I think you’re more than that.”
Now it’s my time to shrug.
“Maybe. I’m gonna float the idea tonight. See what she thinks.”
As I say that, my cell buzzes to let me know that someone is here to see me.
“Hi Harold,” I say when the call connects. “Yes, thank you. I’m feeling much better.” I eye Calvin as I say those words. I haven’t said anything about being sick to our concierge.
Calvin face is pure innocence as I permit Harold to let Bea up.
“You should go,” I say once I’ve disconnected the call.
“Anyone would think you’re embarrassed by me,” he accuses with a smirk.
“Or maybe you’re too used to women showing you off like some kind of trophy.” I don’t mean for it to come out as bitter as it sounds.
Calvin’s eyes widen. “You sound a little jealous there, darlin’. If you want to show me off to the world, I’ll play the part.”
“Hell no, I’m not a puck bunny.”
“Never said you were.”
I narrow my eyes at him as a knock sounds on my door.
“I’m nothing like that,” I state as I get to my feet and move to let my best friend in.
No sooner have I opened the door does Bea throw her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re better. I’ve missed you.”
“Whoa,” I cry when her belly hits mine. “You’ve grown.”
“Don’t,” she warns. “I swear, I woke up yesterday morning and suddenly I’m pregnant.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been pregnant for a while now,” I laugh.
“I brought Chinese. What?” she asks, catching my grimace before I turn to lead her deeper into my apartment.
“I’ve eaten way too much takeout this week,” I mutter as her footsteps follow me deeper into my apartment.
“At least you’ve been eating. You—” Her words cut off the second she spots a certain hockey player sitting on my couch.
Bea and I might have talked briefly over the last couple of days, but it’s mostly been work-focused.
“C-Calvin?”
“Hey,” he says with a smile. “Don’t tell me, Rett is already complaining that I’m late.”
“Um…” She hesitates, looking between the two of us suspiciously. “Yeah, actually.”
“Impatient asshole,” Calvin mutters as he gets to his feet.
“Breakfast in the morning?” he asks me as Bea continues to watch us.
“I can’t. I’m heading to the salon early to get caught up on things.”
“We can do it early.”
“Really, it’s okay,” I argue, although I’m not sure why. I’ve loved our last three mornings together.
Calvin nods, although I don’t miss the disappointment that darkens his eyes.
“Okay. I guess I’ll see you around, then.”
“You know where I live,” I tease.
“Have a good night, ladies.”
“You too. If you bring a bunny or two home, keep the noise down, yeah?”
Calvin’s entire body freezes as my words hit him.
“You got it. Laters.”
Bea stands silently, her eyes drilling into me until the front door slams closed.
“What. The. Hell?”
“Says the one who didn’t warn me he lived in this building before I signed the lease.”
“I already told you I forgot.”
“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure I pointed out that you can’t blame your pregnancy for everything,” I tease as she walks toward my small dining table.
“I will use it as often as I please. I’m not getting kicked in the bladder for nothing.”
“Fine,” I mutter as I grab us some water, plates, and cutlery and join her at the table.
“So…care to explain why Calvin Keller is getting comfortable in your apartment?”
“He lives upstairs and he makes a fuck load of noise. I went up the first night I was sick to tear my noisy neighbor a new one, and there he was, all sweaty and hot.”
Credit where credit’s due, Bea holds her amusement in for a solid five seconds before she starts laughing.
“What? It’s not funny,” I whine. “He’s really annoying.”
“Oh yeah, it looked like you were really irritated by him lounging on your couch as if he lived here.”
“He’s…” I sigh as I think about the last couple of days, a smile creeping onto my lips. “He’s been pretty awesome, actually. He’s brought me food, made sure I’m okay.”
“Calvin is a good person. I’m not surprised.”
“I…” I grind my teeth, irritated at myself. “Yeah, he is. I’ve liked hanging out with him.”
Bea’s alight with excitement. “Oh, my god. Have you got a crush on Calvin?”
“What? No. No, that is not what’s happened.”
“Uh-huh, yeah, sure.”
“Bea,” I whine like a petulant toddler. “I don’t want a fuckboy hockey player.”
“Nor did I, and look where that got me: knocked up and wearing his ring.”
“You wanted a hot night with a hot man. That’s different. I don’t. I want…”
“You want…” she prompts when my words trail off.
“I want a relationship. I want a man I can rely on. I want date nights and cozy evenings in. I want to talk long into the night and wake up the next morning excited to open my eyes to see him again.”
“Who says that isn’t what Calvin wants?” Bea asks innocently.
“Look at him, Bea.”
“Yeah, and look at what Rett was like. I’m not saying that you might be the one to change him and all that. All I’m saying is, don’t write him off. People aren’t always the versions of themselves we see in the media.”
“What about in real life? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him kiss three different puck bunnies in one night before.”
“So? He’s young and living his best life. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“I know it doesn’t.” I know I’m only telling myself what I want to hear.
“So, how were your cozy evenings in with Calvin?”
“Uh…cozy, I guess. He brought food, we watched movies, and I blew my nose and hacked my lungs up every few minutes.”
“Ah, romance at its finest,” she teases as I throw a spring roll at her. “Thanks.” She bites the end off and smiles as she’s chewing.
“I think he’s struggling with his injury more than he’s letting on,” I confess.
“I thought he was making good progress with Darcy?” Bea says, concern twinkling in her eyes.
“I don’t mean physically. Mentally, I think he’s having a hard time.”
“That’s understandable. Life as he knew it changed in the blink of an eye. Surely we should be more concerned if he weren’t struggling?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He’s lightened up over the last few days, relaxed a little more in my presence, and he’s let a few things slip that I don’t think he meant to. “What are they doing tonight?”
“They’re recording a podcast.”
“Oh, right,” I say as if I have any idea what that really means.
We continue chatting while we eat, but every few minutes, my eyes flick to what I’ve been working on all day, waiting for the right opportunity to bring it up.
Finally, Bea turns the conversation to work, and I prepare myself to give her the pitch I’ve been working on.
“Are you sure you’re ready to come back tomorrow?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Thank God. We’re back-to-back all day, and I’m pretty sure Rachel is gonna call in.”
“These two weeks are gonna take forever to recover from.”
“Yeah, we could do with a few extra sets of hands to get through the backlog. And the waitlist.”
“About that,” I say, pushing my chair back and walking toward my stack of paperwork. “I've been thinking, and…if you’re not interested, then tell me, but how do you feel about expanding?”