Chapter 10
DRAKE
Gosh, he was sore after the game. Away games were always tough because you weren’t sleeping in your own bed, sometimes the after-game interviews went late into the night…
and sometimes you just missed your pillow.
Flopping down on the bed again, adjusting and tucking the hotel bedding around him, he sighed in defeat – and picked up his phone, texting Steffi immediately.
What are you wearing?
And was immediately rewarded with three dots that told him that he was about to get blasted via text by his fiancée.
He loved irking her and kept thinking about that kiss over and over again.
The idea of kissing her had never crossed his mind, and came out of nowhere – but now that he’d done so, there was no way he’d ever forget it.
A frown.
He chuckled softly, picturing her face.
And nothing else?
I’m wearing my pajamas because it’s eleven o’clock at night here and you are goodness-knows-where, having fun, and obviously inebriated if you think I’m going to entertain you via text message…
That was his cue – Drake dialed her number immediately and was rewarded with her answering on the first ring.
“How about this?” he began in greeting and heard her heavy, exasperated sigh – and grinned. “We can entertain each other like this.”
“I’m not… no.”
“Why not?” he wheedled at her terse response that didn’t sit well.
“It’s not very neighborly of you. What if I needed something?
What if I needed you to check on my house while I was gone?
I could be calling for a reason, and you are just shutting me down without even hearing me out.
Sheesh, Steffi – I thought we were friends. ”
And he held his breath – waiting for the concussive shockwave to blast him. He could practically hear her teeth grinding.
“What did you need?”
Her voice was quiet, almost dejected, and immediately sent a bolt of alarm down his spine. Something was wrong or bothering her, which in turn was now bothering him.
“What’s wrong?” he blurted out pointedly. “Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”
This was not going to work. This would not do at all. Drake immediately pressed the FaceTime request on his phone and expected her to shut him down once more… but what happened next was everything.
She accepted.
He could see her lying in bed, looking exhausted and lost, with the most atrocious-looking plaid flannel nightgown that he’d ever seen. It looked like Paul Bunyan’s dishrag and nearly said as much, but her expression set off alarm bells.
“Hey…” he began again softly, encouraging her. “Talk to me. What’s on your mind? What’s bothering you?” Her vulnerable gaze met his – and he swallowed, feeling a pang in his chest as her lower lip wobbled just for a moment. “Steffi?”
“I hate this…” she whispered in a tiny, hushed voice.
“Hate what?”
“This.”
“Sweetie, you’re gonna have to elaborate a little more,” he chuckled softly and saw her expression crack as her eyes began to shine, glimmering with unshed tears. “What do you hate – me?”
“No,” she rasped, quickly wiping her eyes and looking away. “I don’t hate you. You annoy the crap out of me, but I’ve never hated you. Do you know what I almost did tonight?”
“What?”
“I saw someone walking their dog and paid them five bucks for the bags of poo – because I was going to throw it on your lawn. I bought dog poo tonight and hit the lowest of lows.”
Drake wasn’t sure if he should laugh – or buy an industrial-strength pressure washer. If his yard was now littered with excrement from some mongrel, he was not gonna be a happy camper. And just as he was about to light into her for it, she let out a tearful sob that stopped him in his tracks.
“I couldn’t do it,” she uttered, her voice wobbling. “I missed you, wanted some attention, and knew that would get your goat… but I couldn’t do it. I paid five bucks for poop – for nothing.”
Oh, thank heavens… he thought in relief and then paused.
“I wanted tea tonight with you from that stupid kettle,” she warbled, wiping her eyes again.
“I wanted to smash your toes practicing dancing… and I wanted you to look at me like that again, that look you get right before you kissed me the other night – which means I’ve lost my freakin mind.
I never thought dementia or insanity would make you feel sad or lonely. ”
He smiled tenderly at the screen and put his free arm behind his head, staring at her, drinking in this moment and what she was revealing right now. He might have lost tonight's game, but by golly, this was better than winning the lottery.
“I miss my kettle tonight too,” he offered gamely. “I missed those clodhoppers attacking my feet… and Steffi – I’ll kiss you anytime you want.”
“Shut up,” she wailed in response, putting her arm over her eyes. “I’m trying to tell you that I recognize I’ve lost my freakin’ mind – not trying to get you to put the moves on me, you Demented Wanker.”
“Babe, we’ve gotta work on your pillow talk,” he chuckled. “How about ‘Darling Warrior’ or ‘Devoted Winner’?”
“Did you win tonight?”
“No.”
“Well, there you go,” she tossed mulishly – and moved her arm to glare at him. “I don’t have clodhoppers.”
“Of course not.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I would never dream of doing that.”
“You still are.”
“Nahh,” he drew out deliberately and saw a flicker of a smile on her face that made his heart wobble precariously in his chest. “You know, I decided I’m tired of this, too.”
“You are?”
“Yeah – I was calling because I scrapped your car. You’ll need to go get your things out of it tomorrow and pick up a check for five hundred bucks. It’s officially going to be a coral reef, and I had to negotiate the heck outta that deal.”
“But… but…”
“And keep the Camry – as my fake fiancée or…”
“Or?” she uttered warily as his own heart skipped a beat at what he was about to say. It was a good thing he was lying down in bed because he was pretty sure his knees would buckle and fold like a wet piece of paper.
“Or we could just drop the pretense and give this a try between us,” he offered – and held his breath.
“You’re a turd,” she retorted, but the bite – the attack wasn’t there. “So you want this whole thing to be real between us? No more faking, no more pretending, we’re going to try to be a real couple?”
“Would you like that?”
“Would you like an enema?”
“Are you asking to see my butt again?” Drake was rewarded with her nervous laugh as she rolled her eyes. “I knew it! You really are checking me out – aren’t you?”
“I’ve got to get some sleep,” she retorted without answering him – and he knew things were okay between them.
Steffi thought he was hot, and he could happily live with that knowledge after that fiery kiss they’d shared.
“Seriously – I need shut-eye, not twenty minutes of you bragging about yourself all the time.”
“Ain’t braggin’ if it’s true,” he tossed playfully. “But hey, I get it. If you want to roll over after hearing me propose, dreaming of my solid butt cheeks in my white stretchy pants… I completely understand.”
“You’re annoying.”
“I’m yours,” he corrected – and saw her hesitate as a slow smile touched her lips. “I’m yours in your demented head. So go get your delusional sleep and think about me however you want – white pants, dancing, kissing, whatever.”
“So this is real then?” she held up her hand, his ring flashing on her finger… and Drake swallowed as a seriousness descended on them both.
“It’s real if you want it to be.”
“I guess we should talk tomorrow when you get home.”
“I guess maybe we should,” he replied. “Get some rest, Steffi – and try not to let things bother you. It’s gonna be okay, and we’ll figure it out.”
She nodded before ending the call – and Drake felt a vacuum in the room from the sudden lack of presence.
He liked having her around, was crazy about her and her clever comebacks, and while he never imagined dealing with someone as prickly as Steffi…
she was beginning to fill every corner of his life with a spark that couldn’t be denied.
He’d always wanted to find love like his brothers had – but maybe falling for someone wasn’t as cut and dry as he once believed.
Maybe it wasn’t puffy hearts, singing birds, or tender moments.
What if it was sparks, banter, and exciting moments?
Maybe it was just finding that person who you could annoy for life, who wasn’t afraid to speak up, and made you feel like you mattered to them despite everything…
because he was falling flat on his face, heart on his sleeve, for his annoying neighbor.
Steffi.