Page 7

"Just pretend he’s wearing a swimsuit.”

Beth Bowen

It takes me a second to adjust to my surroundings when I wake up, but then it all comes back to me. Leaving Lucas. Moving in with Marissa and Aaron. Laughing with James.

Tingles of excitement spark beneath my skin at the reminder of last night. James always manages to put smiles on people’s faces. That’s why he’s so popular.

When I get up and grab my phone, I see seventeen missed calls from Lucas. I guess he finally made it home. I bite my lip. Should I call him back? No, I need coffee—and possibly a pep talk from my best fri end—before I make any decisions regarding Lucas.

I burst out of my room and come face to face with Aaron and his naked chest.

“S-sorry,” he stammers.

I snap my gaze away, my cheeks suddenly burning. “Crap, no. I’m sorry. I’m the one who’s intruding.”

“You’re not. I just forgot we had a guest over,” he mumbles. “I’ll go get dressed.” With that, he hurries to the back of the hallway.

I take a deep breath as Marissa walks down the corridor, chuckling at our exchange. “Sorry about that. He feels bad. He likes to hang out in his boxers, probably because he wears so many layers at work.”

“It would have been nice to know that bit of information beforehand.”

She waves a hand in dismissal. “Relax. It’s nothing. Just pretend he’s wearing a swimsuit.”

I arch an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t wear Frozen swim trunks.”

She explodes in laughter. “Right. That’s actually from a time he lost a bet. We—”

“No! I don’t want to know.” I think I’ve intruded on their private lives enough for one day. Or one lifetime.

With a chuckle, she wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go get you some breakfast.”

We start working on breakfast—eggs and bacon with toast—and a few minutes later, Aaron walks into the kitchen, now fully dressed. “Sorry again,” he says, offering an apologetic look.

“Please, don’t worry about it. My fault.”

He walks up to Marissa, who’s frying the eggs, and drops two kisses on her temple. Her smile widens as she leans into him. I swallow hard, looking away. Somehow, witnessing this tender gesture feels way more intrusive than seeing Aaron in his Olaf boxers.

“So, how are you holding up?” Aaron asks me, grabbing a few plates from the cupboard.

“Good.” I nod. “Thanks again for letting me stay here. I’ll be out of your hair soon. I’m going to browse apartment listings today.”

“Feel free to stay as long as you want,” he says.

“No sign of Lucas yet?” Marissa asks, turning around to look at me.

My lips twitch into a smile when I hear his name because now, all I can hear is how much it sounds like mucus. “He tried calling me seventeen times last night. I’m not sure what to do.”

Aaron whistles dramatically. “W ow. Guy crossed into crazy ex-boyfriend category ten phone calls ago.”

“I’m with Aaron,” Marissa says, scooping the eggs onto our plates. “Definitely don’t call him back.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I won’t,” I say, biting my cheek. He doesn’t deserve any explanation beyond the one I gave him on the phone. It’s not like I ghosted him, or he couldn’t see it coming.

Our conversation shifts to what we’re doing today.

And since hockey season has officially started, it means practice and another game tonight for Aaron.

Luckily for the Raptors, they have a streak of home games and tri-state area games before they hit the road.

That’s the advantage of playing for a city with so many opposing teams close by: another one in New York and New Jersey, two in Pennsylvania, one in Boston, and one in DC.

All less than four hours away by car, which means they’re pretty much home games.

The guys can come back home right away, sometimes even the same night.

As for Marissa and me, we’re due at the coffee shop later today. Whenever Celia can step in for us the morning after a game, we always take her up on her offer.

We’re discussing new recipes we want to try when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number. Hopefully, it’s not Lucas using another phone.

“Hello?” I say tentatively .

“She’s alive!” the voice of my grandma blares through the receiver. I don’t miss her sarcastic tone in her voice.

“Hi, Grandma. How are you doing?”

“I’m good. I was just afraid you might be dead, considering you haven’t called since I stepped foot in this death hole.”

“Grandma! Don’t be so dramatic,” I say, slumping my shoulders in exasperation. She’s only been in the nursing home for a couple of days. “I know I said I’d call on your first day, but life’s been crazy. I’m sorry.”

“Are you still coming to visit me tomorrow?” she asks in a quiet voice, and my throat tightens.

My grandma is the strongest person I know, so moving to a nursing home is a major adjustment for her.

After she took a nasty fall a few months ago, I promised I’d come visit her every week if she moved into the home, and that I’d call her even more. So far, big failure on my end.

“Absolutely. I promised you last week before you moved. I’ll be there. How is it going so far? What are the other residents like?”

“Old,” she grumbles, and I can almost see her rolling her eyes. “I’m probably the youngest person in this place, but they’re nice enough. And some of them even play cards. Poker.”

“Oh, that’s great. Have you p layed a game yet?” I’m not sure it’s her best move for making friends, since she’s a great poker player, but at least she has fun with it.

“I did. A young boy even stopped by to play with us. We have some sore losers in this place, but we’ll see.”

I chuckle, feeling a lot lighter. “Well, I’ll be there tomorrow, and we can play together.”

“Don’t bring that boyfriend of yours. I want you to myself.”

My mouth goes dry. “Actually, Lucas and I broke up.”

“Oh, okay. Well, in case you forgive him for whatever he’s done by tomorrow, still come alone.”

Her comment both stings and makes me laugh. That pretty much sums up my relationship with Lucas. Even Grandma caught on to that. “I won’t. See you tomorrow.”

The doorbell rings as I’m ending the call. I’m closer to the front door, so I tell Marissa and Aaron I’ll get it.

I swing the door open to reveal James, who’s wearing loose joggers and a T-shirt that seems to highlight his excessive muscles. “Elizabeth!” he says, his eyes sparkling. “How are you this fine morning?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I’m good. What’s up?”

He stuffs both hands in his pockets. “Just wanted to check on you, see how you were doing.”

“Well, I’m fine.”

His intense eyes study me for a m oment, and he offers a small smile. “I believe you a bit more than I did yesterday.”

This man is way too perceptive for my liking.

“Hey, bro!” Aaron’s deep voice booms behind me. I step aside so they can bro-hug.

Aaron steps back. “What’s up, man? Do you need a cup of sugar or something?”

James’ cheeks redden slightly as he crosses his strong arms over his chest. “Nah, you’re the cook in this building. Hawthorne’s down for a game against the Spaniards in an hour. Are you in?”

Aaron glances at his watch. “Sure. Here?”

James steals a quick glance at me, then nods. I’m not exactly sure what I’m still doing here, so I give James an awkward wave and return to the kitchen.

“But why would you come two floors down to ask me that?” Aaron says. “You could have texted—ohhh!”

I stop in my tracks, hoping to hear James’ reply, but he speaks too low for me to catch it.

Still, my heart pounds out a steady beat, because I know he came down here to see me.

Even if James Adler is pretty much a walking red flag who’s only after me because I’m not interested in him, the fact he cares so much is a boost to my ego and self-esteem.

After spending months chasing after a man who was supposed to be my boyfriend, it’s a welcome change of pace.