Page 16

I’m sitting on the chaise portion of my brand new, extremely comfortable cream sectional, waiting for Sadie to come back from cleaning up what’s left of our Chinese food.

The cushions are made of memory foam and it literally feels like it’s hugging me every time I sit or lay down on it.

Sadie slides across the gray-tiled kitchen floor in her socks, and I can’t help but giggle at the move.

I’m about half a bottle of wine deep, Kate Hudson is singing “You’re So Vain" on the TV that hangs above my rustic entertainment console, and Sadie just plopped back down onto the couch next to me. Life has never been better.

She puts her arm across the back cushions. “Okay, spill it, sister. What the heck is going on with you and that handsome head coach of yours?”

I toss her half of the navy fleece blanket that’s covering me and we snuggle in closer to each other. “Ugh, he is handsome, isn’t he? Why are the assholes also the best looking? It’s not fair,” I pout and puff my bottom lip out at her. The wine has made my very small filter nonexistent at this point.

Sadie laughs and pulls me into a hug. “Girl, I could feel the sexual frustration through the phone. It’s no secret you want to bang your boss.”

I pull back and gasp. “How dare you accuse me of such things! I hate that man with a burning passion. Just because he looks good while being an asshole doesn’t mean I want to bang him.”

Sadie gives me a look like she’s not convinced.

“I’m serious, Sadie. He’s been nothing but rude and awful to me since we were little. I was hoping he grew out of it, but it would appear he hasn’t. Except…”

She leans in closer waiting for me to go on.

“I think we had a moment today before practice. And I think I may have actually flirted with him a little bit.” I take a long sip of my wine, preparing for her to lose her mind.

“ Way to bury the lede, Elle! ”

Yep. Saw that coming.

“ You initiated the flirting? Did he flirt back? Tell me all the things!”

I set my glass down on the coffee table, because I’m about to get real passionate and I don’t need to throw wine around while I talk with my hands. Learned that lesson the hard way.

“I think? Lincoln hinted that he may have wanted to spend time with me but then followed it up with him just checking on his coach. He is so confusing. One minute he’s insulting me, and the next he’s maybe telling me he wants to spend time with me. I never know who I’m going to get on any given day with him.”

Sadie seems to ponder that for a moment before surprising me with her next comment. “Ya know, I thought I saw a moment between you two when I was streaming one of your preseason games on my laptop. You guys had just scored a power play goal to win at the end of the game. It looked like you two got lost in each other’s eyes while celebrating. It was dreamy. ”

I can’t help but laugh. “Sadie, I swear, you and Hunter read too many romance novels. There was no moment.”

She’s still not convinced. “First off, I need to meet this Hunter character who is stealing my best friend from me. Second, there was a moment. Even if you didn’t notice it. The entire bench was celebrating around you guys and you were just holding onto each other after high fiving.” Sadie sips her wine, completely proud of herself for calling me out on my shit.

Damn. That happened, didn’t it?

“Whatever! We were just excited we won the game. Nothing more. It doesn’t negate the fact that he still gets on my damn nerves. How are you about to tell someone they’re the last person you want to talk to, and then the next week tell them you want to spend time with them? It doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t make sense.”

Sadie looks at me, tilts her head, and breaks out into a full shit-eating grin.

“ What? ” I scream and throw my hands up in the air.

“He likes you.”

Is she serious? “Are you not listening to a word I’m saying right now, Sadie?”

“Oh, I’m listening, all right. He’s pretty much acting like a first-grader who has a crush on a girl. I don’t know why he gets all pissy and takes shit out on you, but I think he’s just using his assholery as a defense mechanism.”

I swear, this girl. “So, what you’re saying is, he’s an asshole to me because he likes me. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Sadie takes another sip of her wine. “I didn’t say it’s smart or even makes any sense. But I think deep down this guy might actually like you and it’s confusing him. Which is why he’s been acting so confusing.”

I think about what she’s saying. I guess it could make sense, but it doesn’t make it less frustrating. I grab my wine and slump back down onto the couch. “We are thirty-one years old, for fuck’s sake. I don’t have time for those types of games.”

She reaches over and grabs my hand. “Maybe he doesn’t even realize he’s playing them, Ellie.”

What the fuck does that even mean?

I decide to drop the conversation and focus on Matthew McConaughey instead. He’s chasing after Kate Hudson on his motorcycle and I can’t help but be a little jealous.

Will a man ever be interested in me enough to chase after me if I left?

Since when do I care about shit like that? And why the heck do I picture Lincoln Scott when imagining a man chasing after me?

I wake up around five in the morning with Sadie’s foot in my face on the couch. Groaning, I gently move her foot and slip off the couch, undetected. I’m not even sure when we fell asleep. It must’ve been during Crazy, Stupid, Love because the last thing I remember is Ryan Gosling with his shirt off.

Thank you for the very pleasant dreams, Mr. Gosling.

Tiptoeing into the kitchen, I make my way to my French press. Thank god I have some coffee grounds leftover from yesterday. Sadie would absolutely murder me if I used my coffee grinder at this hour. She is many things, but an early bird is not one of them.

After I get the water started on the stove, I pull out my phone to check my emails.

You wouldn’t think a hockey coach would get very many emails, but you’d be completely wrong in that assumption. I am constantly drowning in emails. They vary from day to day but I almost always have emails from the trainers with injury updates, our PR team with promotional and interview schedules, and far too many emails from Lincoln. It’s like as soon as he sends one email, his brain remembers something else and he sends another two minutes later with additional info.

To no surprise at all, I have five new emails from Lincoln alone since checking it around eleven last night. His most recent being at two in the morning. Does this guy ever sleep? Maybe he has insomnia or something because no normal person is awake at two in the morning sending emails about hockey line combinations.

I close out of my email before reading anything he sent because I am 99 percent sure I’m going to want—no, I’m going to need —caffeine before tackling those emails.

The tile floor in the kitchen is cold on my feet as I walk over to the fridge to grab my caramel creamer. It’s no caramel pistachio espresso from Gold Coast, but it’ll do.

I lucked out when I found this new apartment. It’s completely updated with hardwood floors in all of the living spaces and bedrooms, with new tile in the kitchen and bathrooms. Beyond that, I haven’t done much decorating. I’m grateful Sadie is here to bring some life to this place. It’s actually pretty depressing if I think about it.

After adding the water to my press, I stir until the water foams and let the coffee steep for about four minutes. Thank God my dad taught me how to make coffee this way, because the K-Cups weren’t cutting it for me anymore. Okay, so maybe I’m a tiny bit of a coffee snob. But there’s nothing better in the morning than a good cup of coffee.

Four minutes feels like a lifetime, but after it finally passes I push the plunger down slowly until it reaches the bottom and then grab my favorite Grey’s Anatomy mug. It says It’s a beautiful day to save lives and reminds me of McDreamy every time I use it. The perfect way to start my morning, if I do say so myself.

I pour myself as much as I can but leave enough room for my creamer. After adding a tiny bit of sugar, I stir it all together and make my way to my tiny breakfast nook near the window.

My favorite thing about this apartment is the view of the Fox River. Right out my window, I have the perfect view of the Walnut Street Bridge, which was actually renamed the Bart Starr Memorial Bridge a few years back. I learned recently that he was a legendary Packers player and they named the bridge in honor of him. The coolest thing about the bridge is the fact that it lights up at night in a multitude of colors. Since the sun isn’t up yet, I’m transfixed at the rainbow of colors reflecting off the river as I stare out my window.

I don’t splurge on much but I’ve also never made the kind of money I do now in my current position. So, I splurged a little on this place. Work is hectic, hard, and exhausting on so many different levels. I owe it to myself to find a place I can call home that brings me peace and helps me relax after a long day at the rink.

I take a slow sip of my coffee and close my eyes to savor this calming moment before opening my email back up. I decide to clear out all the junk and go through the less important emails just so I can have the satisfaction of watching the number of unread emails go down. Only psychos leave hundreds of emails unread in their inboxes. Psychos.

I’m just about done clearing out my unread emails when my phone vibrates and another one from Lincoln comes through. It must be a sign to stop ignoring him. I reluctantly go through the unnecessary amount of emails he sent overnight. Trust me, not much can happen overnight in terms of hockey lineups when you haven’t even played your first regular season game. But leave it to Lincoln to always keep me on my toes.

Nothing of priority needs to be responded to until I see the last email that came through at 5:17 a.m.