Chapter Eleven #2
Of course she has. Last night, she handed me a list of all the reasons we should get a dog.
Most of the reasons involved cuddling and playing with one.
Very little of the list consisted of the time and energy it would take to train and care for one.
Not that I expected my six-year-old to think about it logically, but still.
“Liking someone’s dog isn’t exactly the deciding factor on who I might consider having in our lives. ”
“Sure,” he agrees. “But considering you spent at least five straight minutes staring at her ass today while she was talking to her dad, I’d say there’s attraction too. That’s important.”
This is starting to remind me of the conversation I had with Honor.
I never thought calling someone cute could be considered a bad thing.
If I was honest with her, I did find her sexy.
Especially when she’s wearing something that shows off her round hips that I want nothing more than to grab onto.
But beyond the body that I’m one hundred percent attracted to is her personality.
Honor has a story to tell, and I’m a willing listener.
But I don’t tell any of that to my best friend, because that would open up a can of worms I have no interest in conversing about. “A lot of attractive people have dogs. Doesn’t mean they want to be parents.”
Honor may not know if she’ll ever be a mother, or if she’ll be a good one, but the fear that she won’t already makes her the best kind. Because she’d do anything to give her future children everything they need to be okay.
Sebastian huffs out a laugh and takes his son, carefully resting Beckham’s head on his shoulder and cradling his tired body. “Why are you against the possibility that Honor might be the person who could fill that role?”
That’s the problem. I’m not opposed to it. I’m sure as hell not going to admit that out loud, though.
“For one, she’s Coach’s daughter,” I point out matter-of-factly. “Secondly, we met like two seconds ago. We don’t know each other well enough. And third, we’re not like that.”
He disregards the first two reasons completely. “Doesn’t mean that can’t change.”
Not wanting to think about that, I grab my drink from the table and call out, “Let’s go inside, Gem. Dinner is ready.”
She runs over and gives Sebastian’s legs a squeeze. “Thank you for my gift, Uncle Bash. I love it.”
He ruffles her hair. “Anytime, kid. Make sure to annoy your dad with it.”
I glare at him as we walk into the kitchen, grabbing the small princess-themed plate that Gemma insists is the only one she can eat on. “I made you and Beck dino nuggets,” I tell her, piling her plate with them and a handful of crinkle fries.
Sebastian, Tori, and I try doing dinner together at least once a week. Whether it’s here or their place. It’s a tradition that I like keeping up with even when they pester me about shit I don’t want to talk about.
Like Honor.
Because, truth is, I don’t know what’s going on with Coach Erikson’s daughter. The only thing I’m sure of is that there’s something there that she doesn’t want to do anything about.
Not yet.
So, I won’t pressure her.
I’ll be here waiting for when she’s ready.
If she ever is.
It isn’t until right before Sebastian and his family leave that he says, “I told Olive we’d all have dinner together. She asked if you’d be there like old times sake.”
He waits for me expectantly to answer.
If I tell him no, he’ll ask why.
If I tell him yes, I’ll probably regret it.
Because I made it seem like there was someone in my life to appease her from feeling bad about what happened between us.
That definitely puts me in a predicament.
Especially when I say, “I’ll be there.”
*
There’s a solid chance that what I’m about to ask Honor is the stupidest thing she’s ever heard, but it doesn’t stop me from knocking on her office door bright and early Friday morning.
She picks her head up from the desktop she’s working on and raises her brows when she sees me standing there. “What’s up?”
I glance in the direction of Karina’s office, which seems to be dark with the door closed. “Is Karina here?”
She shakes her head. “She left for an appointment, but she’ll be back at one to prep for the game if you need to talk to—”
“You,” I tell her, earning me a confused expression. “I need to talk to you about something if you have a minute.”
Her lips pinch into an O, but she slowly nods and turns her chair toward me. “Okay,” she says slowly. “Is it serious? This feels like a serious conversation, and I’ve only had one cup of coffee so far that was lackluster.”
Her version of coffee is one of those overly sweet drinks that cost twelve dollars and has more sugar, milk, and flavored creamers than actual caffeine.
“Do you have plans tonight?” I ask.
Her head cocks with an inquisitive look that’s both amused and concerned. “Uh, yeah. The game. Same as you, I think.”
My smile comes easily. “I mean after the game, wiseass. I’ll be a little tied up with the whole playing it thing for at least two hours myself.”
She grins.
“Anyway, I wanted to know if you’d go to dinner afterwards.”
Honor’s face slackens the second the words are out, dissipating any smile on her face. It’s not exactly a welcome reaction. “Like…a date?” Her voice is a little higher than normal, but I pretend not to notice.
“No. God no.” What’s meant to be a comforting reply makes her visibly flinch, and I realize she must take it the wrong way.
“Okay then,” she murmurs slowly, starting to turn her chair back to her computer.
Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose I’m an idiot. I stop her from giving me her back, gently grabbing ahold of the arm of her chair. “It’s not because I wouldn’t take you on one, Honor. Don’t get that mixed up. We’re going at your pace, whatever that pace is.”
Her attention comes back to me with red coloring her cheekbones. This time, she doesn’t say anything at all.
“Tonight is more like a group thing, but someone might think it’s a date,” I explain, albeit badly.
All she does is stare at me.
Sighing, I pull out a seat from the corner of the room and fold myself into the little plastic thing that may break under my weight based on how it groans. “Do you remember me mentioning a girl named Olive?”
Honor nods. “Sebastian Henderson’s sister.”
Wetting my lips, I dip my head. “That’s the one. She’s meeting up with Henderson for dinner and wants me to tagalong. It’s nothing I haven’t done a million times before, but things are a little different now.”
“Why? Because you liked her?”
There’s no hesitation in the inquiry.
So, I don’t hold back the truth. “I didn’t exactly hold back flirting with her in the past,” I admit, watching her eyebrows go up again. “It was usually harmless because she never seemed all that interested in me. It was mostly to get a rise out of her brother.”
“But something happened,” she surmises.
The day she made a move on me at her mother’s house, I knew I should have stopped it.
But I’d been pining after my teammate’s little sister for God only knows how long.
She knew hockey like the back of her hand and could dish out sass like it was a three-star Michelin meal.
I liked being around her because she was different than the other girls I typically spent time with.
She had a depth that most puck bunnies didn’t, and I latched on to that.
Plus, I was lonely. I liked the idea of being with someone without thinking about thinking too deeply about who that person was.
Poor mistake on my part.
“We hooked up,” I murmur, being as honest as I can and watching Honor look away. “And things weren’t weird after that. They were actually pretty normal. Until I admitted how I felt. That’s when they fell apart. Turns out, she was cool with it until feelings were involved.”
Honor frowns. “Seems hard to believe someone wouldn’t be interested in at least seeing where things go with you.”
Then why aren’t you? is the first question that pops into my head, but I suppress that like a bad dream. “She didn’t picture herself as a mother. And, for obvious reasons, that’s problematic. But that wasn’t the only issue that prevented us from going any further.”
Honor nods along. “You said she was in love with someone else.”
The reminder of Alexander O’Conner doesn’t make my stomach react the way it used to.
I’ve come to terms with their relationship.
I’ve seen them together since she chose him.
And Alex is a great hockey player. His teammates are worthy opponents who make us work for a victory.
“I’m happy for her. For them.” I’m casted a doubtful glance, which makes me laugh lightly.
“I am, believe it or not. I’m a firm believer that things happen for a reason.
The woman I introduce into my daughter’s life will love her as if she’s her own.
She’ll play with her even if Gemma’s games make no sense.
She’ll answer her millions of questions without getting mad. She’ll just…fit into our lives.”
Honor watches me, and I wonder what’s going on in her mind. Should I have brought up kids knowing her situation? She doesn’t seem sad or upset. If anything, there’s understanding in her eyes as she slowly moves her head up and down.
I lean back in the chair. “Thing is, Olive still feels bad about how things went down. Doesn’t matter how many times I’ve told her it’s fine, she thinks I’m holding back because of it. Which couldn’t be less true.”
Well, it isn’t the entire truth. I’m also holding out for the right person. And considering Honor is the last thing I think of when I go to bed at night, and one of the first things in the morning when Gemma isn’t poking me awake, I’d say that she’s a solid candidate.
“So…” Honor’s eyes study my face as she gathers the information I’ve given her. “I’m not sure what this has to do with dinner tonight.”
If she laughs in my face for this proposal, I wouldn’t blame her. “I want Olive to see that I’m okay. That I’m living my life. Then she’ll stop feeling bad and things will be normal again. I won’t have to feel like we’re tiptoeing around each other.”
For a second, nothing registers on her face.
Then it clicks. “Oh.” The corners of Honor’s lips twitch. Not up. Not down. “You want a fake date. I’ve read books like this before.”
“Like a how-to for dummies?”
“Romance books,” she says, laughing. “Why would I read a how-to-fake-date guide? Trust me, I’ve never needed that.”
I’m sure she hasn’t. “It’s a ridiculous idea, but—”
“I’m in,” she answers, shrugging like it’s as easy as that. There’s no judgement in her tone or eyes as they find mine.
I have to blink once. Twice. “You are?”
She nods. “Sure. I don’t have plans tonight besides going home and watching TV after the game. Plus, I don’t know if I’m in the mood to Uber or take the train. I could use a ride with someone who isn’t going to try smelling me or killing us in a car accident.”
I gape at her. “Did you say someone tried smelling you?”
She nods, frowning. “Yesterday, I had a homeless man smell me as I waited for the train to arrive. And my Uber driver a few days ago almost rear-ended, like, three different taxis because he was arguing with his wife. Loudly. They were speaking in a different language, but I’m pretty sure I heard the word ‘bitch’ being thrown around from both parties.
I’m starting to see why my dad doesn’t like me taking public transit around here. ”
I can’t say I’m a fan either after hearing that, but I’m not in a position to tell her what to do.
“I’ll give you ride,” I promise. “And I won’t even try smelling you.”
She snorts. “I appreciate that. And, anyway, I owe you for helping me. So, this will be good. I’m curious what Olive is like.”
My brows shoot up. “Why is that?”
To her credit, she doesn’t lie. “To see what it is you found interesting about her. Must be something.”
I like the color painting her cheeks. I like even more that she wants to know what I found in Olive.
Is it because she wants to know if they share any similarities?
To size her up? As much as I want to dive into the possibilities of those things being true, I don’t let myself.
It’s a dangerous route to go down that I don’t have time for.
“Okay then,” I say, standing up. “I’ll meet up with you by the locker rooms tonight.” I pause by the door. “Thank you, by the way. For doing this. I didn’t know who else to ask.”
There is nobody else I wanted to ask, is what I want to say.
Honor waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. Although, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to say something cliché like, ‘try not to fall in love with me’ like they do in the books I’ve read.”
I chuckle. “Does that happen?”
She nods solemnly. “Every. Single. Time.”
My cheek twitches. “May the odds ever be in our favor then,” I reply with a wink.
She calls out, “Nice Hunger Games reference,” with a smile to her tone.
When Sebastian catches up with me in the PT room, he asks, “What’s that smile for, Hoffman? You look like you just won the lotto.”
But I shake my head and say, “No reason.”
And smile wider.