Page 17

CHAPTER 17

Cami

I’ve been curled up on the couch all night watching Charlie’s game and staring at his last text to me. I know I’m reading into it, and he likely did not intend to sound flirty, but that’s how I read it. He called me his girl, and while that is absolutely true, there’s something about that possessive word my .

I struggle with my response, but eventually I decide to stop overthinking and type out an equally flirty-but-not-flirty message and send it. 9 til the end of time, superstar. I’m not sure where it came from, but calling him superstar just feels right. Plus, it gets on his nerves which is a bonus.

He’s played well tonight, despite the fact that he seems a little distracted. Earlier in the game he got into it with one of the Predators’s first line men. He got a good punch in before the refs split them up and he was given five minutes in the penalty box.

When he texted me on the plane to check in that I was still good with our arrangement, it got me thinking about all of the things we could do to help his image. I’ve been making a list while I watch the game.

The truth is, even though he has his own reasons for wanting to stay in New York, I have my reasons for wanting him to stay too. He is one of my best friends and our lives have intersected so much over the last few years. We transitioned from high school to college together, and then from college into adulthood. I’ve seen him when his teenage boy acne flared up and he’s seen me during my PMDD mood swings. He knows me on a level that only one other person in the world, his sister, does. It would suck if he had to move across the country.

Sure cozying up with him sounds weird in theory, but in reality I don’t think it’ll be too difficult. I feel comfortable around him and we’ve fallen asleep snuggled under a blanket together before. Plus, he’s not not attractive. I guess it wouldn’t hurt if I had to hold his hand or sit close to him.

I shake my head to bring my thoughts back to the current task at hand, getting the fans to love Charlie enough that the Rangers have no choice but to sign him again. I start to think through the things that make men likable and immediately wish Alana were here to talk through this with me.

I’m glad she isn’t home right now. If she was, she would make this her problem to solve and throw herself into fixing this for her brother, so I’m glad she’s away from it all. I don’t mind stepping in to help this time.

Regardless, this would be more fun if I had someone to brainstorm with. I check the time, a little past seven thirty in the evening, and do the math. It’s one forty five in the morning in Paris, but sometimes Alana is up late working. I text her instead of calling so I don’t wake her.

Me

R u up?

Bestie Friend

Is this a booty call? I’m a little far for that, don’t you think?

Me

You better pick up the phone

It rings once before she answers. “This better be good, I was almost asleep.”

I let out an involuntary sigh of happiness once I hear her voice. The annoyance in it is reminiscent of countless days when I was running late or got us in trouble for something stupid. The way it gets a little higher at the end tells me she isn’t actually mad, just a little irritated. It’s a little scratchy, and it only gets that way when she stays up too late working. It’s a special kind of thing to be able to know everything about someone’s current state of being, just by hearing them speak a few words. “I miss you.”

“Same.” I hear her yawn. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

I push back the desire to pester her about why she’s still awake, knowing the reason is likely just work, and get to the point of my call. As I take a breath to begin speaking, I quickly realize I hadn’t really thought out my game plan. I don’t want her to know about her brother’s contract issues and I really don’t want her to know about the whole fake girlfriend thing.

“Um…yeah everything’s great! I just—” Come on, think .

“Please move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me,” she says, quoting The Devil Wears Prada . I smile at the familiarity. She hasn’t even been gone that long but it feels like it’s been forever.

“Sorry, got distracted. I was just working on an idea for the magazine and I needed some help brainstorming. Got any brain power left for your bestie?”

“No.”

“Great, so I am trying to come up with a list of things that men do that make them likable.”

“That feels like a weird spread topic.”

Shoot .

“Yeah, I know. Angela pitched it and you know how she is.”

She hums in understanding and I take a deep breath of relief.

“Okay well.” I hear her shift and can almost imagine her sitting up in bed. “Men with dogs are pretty cute. I think most people swoon when they see a big guy holding a tiny puppy in their arms.”

“Oh that’s a good one. Remember that one time they were hosting dog adoptions on the quad in college? Everyone was drooling over Zach Ford.”

“I rest my case.”

“What about a hobby? Guys with hobbies are generally considered a green flag,” I suggest.

“Total green flag, especially if they’re actually into it and not just doing it because they’re being forced to.”

Well, Charlie will be forced into all of this but that’s besides the point.

“So true. I’m writing it down in my notes and now I will let you get some sleep because it is way too late for you to be up.”

“It’s okay, I never mind hearing from you, Cam.”

“What’s got you up so late?” I say, losing the battle to not prod.

“Just the normal racing thoughts and anxieties. I’m good, I just can’t get my brain to shut off long enough to fall asleep.”

Don’t love that, but there’s not a ton I can do for her from here.

“Been there done that. How’s Alex?”

“He’s good. He’s Alex.”

“What does that mean?” I smile as I wait for her answer. These two are totally made for each other.

“You know, generally perfect in every way.”

“What a shame you have to live with him.”

“I know, It’s a hardship.” She yawns and I take the hint.

“Okay, get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Wait, isn’t Charlie playing tonight?” I smile at her ability to keep up with his schedule even while being so far away. We did some research on how she might be able to watch the games from Paris, but weren’t really able to decipher any of the instructions. So I just give her a play by play the next day usually.

“Yep he is. They’re playing the Predators tonight and it’s going well.”

“Okay, good. I’m so tired I can’t keep my eyes open. I love you.”

“Love you more.”

I hang up the phone and look down at my list I’ve started. The game is entering the second period and Charlie is on the bench, so I go back to scribbling on my notepad and jot down my ideas. Ultimately this list will have to be cleared by him and Sophie, but I feel pretty good about it.

The hours pass quickly, and even though Charlie had some bumps early on in the game he did pretty well overall and only ended up in the penalty box one more time. That’s a pretty good outcome if you ask me.

It’s just after eleven now, and the game finished up about twenty minutes ago. I’m not expecting a text back from him tonight. With the way our last conversation ended, a response isn’t really needed. Plus, the guys have to get showered and get all of their stuff together before boarding the plane and heading back home. I’ll see him tomorrow when we go over the game plan and the list I made.

I go through the nightly routine of shutting down my tiny apartment. I start at the door and triple check that the dead bolt and the handle are both locked, then I head to the kitchen and put away the few dishes I took out today. After filling up my water bottle, I shut off all of the lights and head to my bedroom.

I wash my face and brush my teeth, then climb into bed and sink into the mattress with a sigh. There must be some kind of science to explain the burst of happiness one feels when they get into bed after a long day. All of the happy endorphins travel through me as I cuddle into the cold sheets and wrap myself up in my comforter.

I build a sort of cocoon around myself, only the glow of my phone lighting up the room. I scroll through social media for way too long before finally setting my phone down and closing my eyes around one in the morning. The events of the last few days run through my head and I find it difficult to settle, some of Alana’s anxiety passing through to me, but eventually I drift off thinking about seeing Charlie tomorrow.