Page 26 of Fast Break
Twenty-Six
Palmer
Boone and I had a lovelydinnerafter our win against Boston last week, but I couldn't keep my mind offCharlieor the weird way we'd parted.
After dessert and distracted conversation on my part, which I waved off as exhaustion,Boonedropped me off at the apartment.
I hadn't heard fromCharlieall evening and debated whether I should reach out.
In the end, I went to bed and had a restless sleep, figuring I'd deal with it in the morning.
But then I didn't hear much from him over the next few days, and I didn't see him at all after Saturday'sgame.
On Sunday, he had supper with his family in Annapolis, while travel andpracticekept us apart for several days after.
His messages to me were—okay, I guess. They lacked a lot of the flirtatious intensity I'd come to enjoy.
I could feel him pulling away and chalked it up to the end of theseasoncoming.
This is all part of the lesson for me. I won't become clingy or try to orchestrate ways to keep him, as I would've in the past. If it's ending, it's ending.
I'll simplywalkaway with fond memories and a locked-down heart,exactlymy goal when I started all this withCharlie.
The ache in mychestis nothing to worry about. Probably indigestion from Taco Tuesday.
Practiceis intense as westartheading into the playoffs.
After another scorching day on thefield, I shower and change, checking my phone to find a number of messages from my mother asking me to call her"ASAP!
"Boonehas also left a message thanking me for the tickets and suggestingdinnernext week.
I mark that one to reply to later. AndRaniahas sent me a text asking if we could talk.
Delete . There's nothing fromCharlie, which is no longer a surprise.
Was he jealous ofBoone? Because it almost seemed that way.
I dismiss the notion.Charliedoesn't do jealousy becauseCharliedoesn't do serious.
Myteammatesare swarming around someone outside the exit.
As I stroll closer, I see it'sCharlie. He's holding out a tray of milky white iced drinks.
A chorus of"Thanks,Charlie" resounds as they each take a cup.
There's one left when I get up to him, though it's a darker shade than the others were.
He plucks it out of the tray and hands it to me with a flourish."Double mocha salted caramel with oatmilk, no whip, lightice."
I eye him with suspicion, but take the iced latte."You bought everyone iced lattes?"
"I wanted to buy you an iced latte, your favorite. But I know you don't want to call unnecessaryattentionto us, so I bought everyone adrinkand figured no one would be the wiser."
Icockan eyebrow."You got everyone double mocha salted caramel lattes?"
He widens his eyes comically."Heavens, no. They all got vanilla lattes. Seemed the safest choice."
"Definitely the most basic,"I joke."Thanks. I can use thepick-me-up."
"Are you heading home?"heasks, walking me to my car.
"Yeah.Coachwhipped us pretty good today."
"So no plans?"He opens my door after I unlock it.
"Other than a pizza, this latte, and some faux Thin Mints I picked up at Aldi, nope. No plans."I toss my bag on the passenger seat andslidebehind the wheel.
"WillBoonebe joining you?"His voice is even, but hisgazewavers.
"No, he's back in Frederick."I bite my bottomlip."Charlie?—"
"How about I come over?"he says, interrupting me."I was hoping we could talk some."
Mychesttightens. This is it. He's ending it. Despite my mental bravado over the past few days, myshoulderssag as Istartthe car."Okay."
"I'll bring the pizza."He shuts the door and taps thetopof the car before sauntering away. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second and breathe through my nose, then put the car in gear and head out. I don't want to see him walking away.
The humidity is high today, and even within the covered garage, the air is so thick that stepping out of my car and to the elevator is like sludging through molasses.
I take another shower and reapply my moisturizer, then fret in front of the closet.
Do I go with comfy as I planned? My ultra-soft Vuori joggers and brushed cotton sleeveless tee would be my first choice.
Or do I go the seductive route with a low-cut fitted tanktopand running shorts toshowoff the tattoo?
Maybe the vintage swing dress I thrifted last week?
It's cute and feminine. I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard. That's what the old me would've done.
The knock on the door forces me to grab the first thing in front of me, which is how I end upwearinga pinkzippered terry cloth cover-up.
My wet hair hangs like strings around my face, but I can't worry about it now.
A glance through the peephole confirms it'sCharlie, and I swing open the door, greeting him with a smile stretched so wide it hurts my ears.
His smile isn't as brilliant and it only shows one dimple, which causes me to dial down the sunshine a few notches.
Heholdsup a pizza box."Anchovies and extra garlic, right? "
I grin at the inside joke."Only if topped with pickled jalapenos."
He walks past me to put the pizza on the small bistro table inside the kitchen whileI closeand bolt the door."One of these days, you're going to try pickled jalapenos and you'llthankme for it."
"Hah."I join him at the table."When you try black pudding."
He shudders andpullsa face. Istartto relax as I gather our plates."Haven't seen much of you lately,"I say, the lightness in my tone belying my anxiety.
"You know how it is coming up to playoffseason,"he says, opening the lid to reveal a very normal pepperoni and green peppers."Coachhas been working you guys hard. We’re just as busy."
"We've only had the one loss thisseason, so there's a lot of pressure."Iholdthe plates while he slides slices for each of us on them.
"HeardTishawon't be able to play in one finalgame."
"They wanted to perform surgery now, but she talked them into waiting until theseasonis over. She's been assisting Donovan with coaching, and I think that might be her next move. She's so good at it.Beer? Wine? Coke?"
"Beer,thanks."
His brows rise as he takes the can of Natty Boh from me."Since when do you keep Natty on hand?"
I shrug and grab a can of Coke for myself."Since you told me it's your comfortbeer."
I realize as soon as the words are out they were a mistake. Casual flings don't do things like keep a favorite beverage on hand. I try to brush it off."There was a six-pack at the register when I was picking up the wine."
"I appreciate it."Hemovesthe pizza box to the counter to make room at the table for us to eat, thenholdsout the chair for me.
"So what else have you been up to?"I ask, dabbing the excess grease off the slice with a napkin."How'sMatt?"
"He's good. Actually, he's engaged."Charliecracks open the can.
"Congratulations. That's exciting."
He takes a sip."Biancawantsa Christmas wedding, so when I'm not at work, I've been helping with wedding preparations."
"Oh."I take a bite of pizza."That explains why I haven't heard from you much."
"Yeah,"he says,puttinghis slice down."About that."
Iholdup a hand, the pizza turning to dust in mystomach."It's okay,Charlie. You don't have to say it. This arrangement we have had a deadline, and now things are getting busy, so you want to end it early. It's okay. I get it."
Charliedrops his slice."That's not what I'm saying at all. In fact, I thought you might be finished with me."
My brow creases."So you aren't ending our fling?"
He releases a quietlaugh."No. No, I'm not."
He opens his mouth like hewantsto say more, then closes it again and picks up his pizza. I hum as relief flows through my veins.
"Can I ask why you thought I was ending things?"I stare at him in puzzlement.
He plays with his can and doesn't look at me when he answers."Thought you might have met someone, someone you thought you could have a real relationship with."
"Boone?"A fuzzy feeling warms me from the inside. He is jealous."We're only friends. I'm not ready for anything more. I mean, that's the whole point of our fling here, right?"
"Right,"he says, pressing his lips together. He sets the already empty can down.
"Do you want another?"I ask, pointing at the can.
He stands andholdshis hand out to me."What I want is you. Now that we've cleared things up, how 'bout we make up for lost time?"