Page 22 of Famous Last Words (New York Thunder #1)

CHAPTER 22

FRAN

F reshly showered, dressed in pajamas, with a big mug of the anti-inflammatory protein hot chocolate Robbie included in the grocery order, I snuggle under my covers with Tessa Bailey’s latest release, opening it right as my phone shudders from my nightstand.

I can’t help but grin because I already know it’s Robbie. We’ve been texting all day. After he confessed what happened to him with his ex-teammate and the girl he’d been dating, and with Lola Grey, my heart ached for him. But after his on-ice practice, he started back up with the text messages, and he’s well and truly back to his cocky, unapologetic self.

Robbie: How was your shower?

I don’t know why, but my cheeks flame from his question. Yes, I told him I was going to have a shower, and no, I don’t know why. He didn’t need to know that. But something has definitely shifted between us. I suddenly feel like I can tell him things like that. Is that weird? Probably. Do I hate it? Absolutely not.

Me: Wet.

Robbie: Jesus, Keller. Warn a guy ??

My eyes widen when I realize exactly what I just sent him.

Me: OMG I meant like literally wet. It was the first thing that came into my head. Excuse me while I quietly die.

Robbie: Nah, you’re okay. I mean, it’s nothing on the shit you were telling me the night in my hotel room.

I stare at his message, reading it at least a few times while trying to rack my brain. But that night is nothing more than a distant blur of The Mighty Ducks , truffle pizza, and almost-kiss gate. Oh God . What the hell did I tell him?

Me: What did I say?

Robbie: You seriously don’t remember??

My stomach twists at the thought.

Me: Clearly not, or I wouldn’t be asking!

Robbie: Trust me, you don’t wanna know ??

Me: I don’t like you very much right now.

Robbie: Maybe you’d like me more if I pulled your hair. Or spanked you. Or choked you. You dirty little slut …

I scream. Actually scream, and I throw my blanket over my head and all but cry.

I am never drinking again.

Me: Okay, so I guess I’m moving to another country, changing my name, dying my hair. It was nice knowing you.

Robbie: Don’t worry, your kinky little secrets are safe with me ??

Me: So, anyway… Escrow closes tomorrow. Are you excited to get the keys?

Robbie: Smooth transition there, Keller. But yes. I am excited. My first house. Well… apartment.

My brows knit together.

Me: Your first?

Robbie: Yeah.

Me: You didn’t own a place back in St. Paul?

Robbie: Nope. Rented. Call me psychic but I had a feeling it wasn’t going to work out there.

I’m suddenly in a panic. I feel terrible. I sold Robbie his first home. Suddenly the obligatory bottle of champagne the agency gives to all buyers feels less than adequate.

Me: I wish I’d known. That’s so exciting!

Robbie: It’s just a place to live. No big deal.

Me: It’s so much more than just a place to live, Robbie. Aside from being 6 million bucks, it’s your first home. It’s a huge deal!

I rake my teeth over my bottom lip, contemplating whether or not I tell him. But then I realize he already knows so much about me already, what’s one more tidbit.

Me: This is what I love about real estate. It’s not about the selling for me, which is probably a good thing since I suck at it. But I love the thought of helping someone buy a first home. The excitement. The emotion. All of it. There’s just something about being able to help people start the next chapter of their life. It’s why I’ve stuck at it through all the shit.

Robbie: Maybe you should look at helping people to buy instead of helping people to sell. That’s a thing, right?

Me: It is. A buyer’s agent. But I don’t know. They’re always so… pushy and impersonal.

Robbie: Well, maybe that could be your niche. New York’s first buyer’s agent who actually gives a shit.

I ponder his suggestion.

Me: Maybe…

Robbie: Actually, there’s a guy on the team, Alex. He’s looking for a place in the city. He lives up in Westchester somewhere, but he has a newborn and wants a place to stay after the games instead of driving home late and waking the baby. I’ll introduce you if you’d like .

My heart jumps at the thought. Not only of the possibility of a new client, but that Robbie would even think to do that. For me.

Me: OMG Robbie! That would be awesome! I’m already thinking of a couple of places we have listed at the moment, although one of the listing agents is Tadd ??

Robbie: How is the royal bag of dicks since I had words with him? Hasn’t been giving you any more trouble?

I consider telling Robbie about Tadd. About how he’s been harassing me at work, and how he practically cornered me with Tony to co-list with him. But as much as I love seeing someone stand up to Tadd, I don’t think I want to risk upsetting him again; I need my job. And unfortunately, Tadd Jennings has the power to make things very uncomfortable for me at work.

Me: No. Not at all.

Robbie: Good. You tell me if he does. I’ll pay him a visit.

Why is that so hot?

Me: Nope. All good.

Robbie: Can I ask you something?

I relax back against my mountain of pillows, grabbing my mug of hot chocolate and taking a sip that warms me through.

Me: Sure.

The three dots appear in the text window for a long time. But then they’re gone. Then they’re back. Gone again. And then…

Robbie: Actually, can I call you?

My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. I feel entirely unprepared for a phone call. And if there’s one thing I hate, it’s being unprepared.

Me: Ok…

A few seconds later, the device illuminates in my hand, vibrating with a call from Robbie Mason. I take a deep breath, centering myself as best I can before sliding to answer.

“Hey,” I say, like it’s no big deal he’s calling me at ten p.m.

“Hey.” Even through the phone, his baritone is like chocolate, rich and velvety, a slight rasp that does things to me I don’t necessarily dislike.

“What’s up?” My own voice is a lot less self-assured than it normally is—basically a mortifying squeak—and I close my eyes in the hope that he doesn’t notice.

“Okay, so, you can totally say no if you want?—”

I wait a few seconds, but he doesn’t continue. “O-kay…”

Robbie clears his throat, and although I can’t see him, something tells me he’s suddenly a lot less cool, calm, and collected than he usually is; he almost sounds nervous. Very un-Robbie Mason.

“We have a game coming up… in Boston.” He releases a breath like he’d been holding onto it. “I spoke to my coaches and told them about my ma, and they’ve given me special consideration to stay up there for a couple extra nights.”

I roll my lips between my teeth, confused as to how this has anything to do with me.

“I know it wasn’t included on the itinerary I sent you, but I was wondering if you w-would u m… if you would wanna maybe come meet her?”

Stunned, shocked, and everything in between, I’m at a loss for words and breath, it seems. The only part of me that’s working is my brain, completely overthinking what he’s just asked me.

“You still there?”

I clear my throat. At least he knows the call hasn’t died. “Umm, I?—”

“I’m gonna fly straight to Boston from Toronto. And I thought you could meet me there. And then, I was going to drive my car back to New York the next day.”

“You have a car?” I roll my eyes at my own question. Yeah, Fran, because that’s exactly what you should be focusing on right now. A fucking car, and not the fact that he wants you to go to Boston to meet his dying mother.

“Yeah, why do you think I wanted a place with a parking spot so bad?”

I clear my throat again, if for nothing else, to provide myself a few extra seconds to consider my response.

“And Ma really wants to meet you,” Robbie adds, and there’s a blatant hint of fragility in his tone that makes my heart crack.

I shake my head, still completely blindsided. “You told your mom about me?”

“Yeah.” He hesitates before adding, “Is that okay?”

“Did you tell her about me and our arrangement , or does she think I’m your actual girlfriend?”

“I couldn’t tell her the truth ,” Robbie says after a brief pause. “She’s dying , Keller. And do you know the only thing she’s scared of about dying isn’t the unknown, eternity of death. It’s leaving me alone.”

My heart hitches, but I bite my cheek instead of responding.

“When I told her about you, she—” He scoffs. “Man, I could almost hear the way she lit up from the inside. She was so happy. Happier than I’ve heard her sound in a long time. ”

“Okay, I’ll go,” I say quickly. “I don’t like lying to your mom, but… I’ll do it.” I puff air from my cheeks, shaking my head at myself.

“Thank you.” He releases a heavy breath, sounding relieved. But then he speaks again. “I’ll have Andy book your flight.”

“Okay.” I place my hand over my mouth in an attempt to stifle a yawn.

“I should let you get some sleep,” Robbie says, and I don’t know—maybe I’m delusional—but it almost sounds like he doesn’t want to hang up. Or maybe I’m overthinking. Again. “I’ll see you at the game tomorrow night?”

I bite back my smile. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Goodnight, Keller.”

“Goodnight.”