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“Yeah, well, he didn’t, so I’m done.” Natasha grabs her bag.
“Sorry about him. You know how he gets.”
She shakes her head. For some odd reason, I get the feeling there’s more going on between her and Lance than I realized. She’s been his trainer for two years, so she knows what a dick he can be. Hitting on girls is a compulsion for him, and I know Natasha isn’t exempt. It’s understandable. She’s super fit—even I can admit it’s hot that she could kick my ass. There’s gotta be a line of guys wanting to tap that, Lance included. I don’t think she’s the kind of chick who would fall for his crap. You never know, though. People do a lot of stupid things when sex is involved.
“You’re gone for a couple of weeks after this, right?” she asks me.
“Yeah. I fly to Toronto tonight. I think my flight’s at nine or something.” I should check that when my phone works again.
Her eyes light up. “You excited to see Sunny?”
“Why are you so interested in my sex life?”
Natasha laughs. “It’s your lack of sex life I’m interested in. Is she still holding out?”
Natasha knows a lot more about my personal life than most people. She’s watched me blow through bunnies since I moved here and then struggle to deal without any outlet for the past three months while I wait for Sunny to come around.
When I don’t answer, she gives me a knowing smile. “So after you visit Sunny, you do that camp thing, right?”
“Yeah. Randy’s meeting me in Toronto, and we’re road tripping together.”
“You’ll have fun. It’s not the usual hockey camp deal, is it?”
“I wanted to change it up this year, and it’s close to Sunny.” That I managed to get Randy to agree to come was a serious feat. I sold the whole “camping experience” like we used to have back when we were kids. He’s also got a few friends up that way, having played for Toronto during his first year.
“Smart. You coming back after that? Or do you have more stuff planned?”
“I have ideas for another project, but it’s local, and I’mma need Vi’s help.”
“How is Violet, anyway?”
“Annoying.” Being the team trainer, Natasha’s met her a few times.
“It’s amazing she deals with you at all.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m awesome.” I give her a cheeky grin. “Vi’s good. She and Waters got engaged.”
“I heard. You don’t sound very happy about that.”
“It’s whatever. I mean, they haven’t been together that long. Like, six months? It feels way soon, ya know?”
“Sometimes when you know, you know.”
The first night I met Sunny, I knew she wasn’t the same as the girls I usually spent my nights with. Or my early mornings. I don’t think that’s what Natasha means, though. “I guess. She’s a big girl, and she can make her own decisions, but if he fucks her over again, I’m gonna break his face.”
“I’m sure he’d do the same if you screwed Sunny over.”
“Truth. That’s not gonna happen.”
I fish my phone out of the bag of rice Randy—or one of the girls, more likely—put it in. It’s been plugged in this entire time, but I’ve still got nothing except a blank screen. Natasha emails me a few dates for sessions that I’ll have to check at home, before I leave for the airport. I want to call Sunny and check in, but I’ve never been great at memorizing numbers, so I don’t have hers banked. It’s a weekday, so she’s probably teaching yoga or volunteering at the animal shelter, anyway.
Natasha gives me a one-armed hug and waves to Randy, who’s floating on his back in the pool. Well, the top half of his body is floating, thanks to the pool noodle, but his legs are sinking. She doesn’t so much as look at Lance as she walks past him to cut through the house, and he’s too busy socializing to notice.
I shove my phone back into the rice bag. I’ll have to check it again later. I’m not sure how long it needs to dry out before it starts working. If I’m still having problems in a couple of hours, I’ll have to hit up the phone store. I don’t like not having access to people when I need it. I’m hoping this camp isn’t so remote I can’t get a signal. That’ll fuck things up for me. I rely on daily messages to Sunny so she knows she’s on my mind.
All of a sudden there’s a music change. We go from rock—which is how we work out—to some pop dance crap.
Lance scans the patio. “Where’s Tash at?”
“She left.”
“What? When?”
“A minute ago.”
He jumps up and jogs across the concrete, his brows creased. I have to wonder what the deal is there. Sometimes I feel like all the flirting Natasha puts up with from Lance isn’t just him being him. Lance digging on her would be all kinds of fucked up since she knows exactly how frequently he lets the bunnies eat his carrot.
