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Percy’s smiling in amusement.
“That’s not the only thing, though,” I continue. “We were at the pizza place and he got a call about a family emergency. He needed to get home to Chicago quickly, so I told him he could take my company plane.”
“Damn, girl. You’ve got a plane?”
“It belongs to the company; I’m not the only one who uses it or anything.”
“Still pretty badass.”
I keep going with my story. “Anyway, we’re on the way to the airport and he invites me to come to some charity game he’s playing in. He’s a hockey player. And that’s very personal. I don’t want to be meeting his teammates and all that. We’re just hooking up.”
Percy’s sigh is annoyed. “First of all, does he play hockey recreationally, or…?”
“No, he plays for the Chicago Blaze.”
“Uh huh. So you’re pissed that a pro hockey player you have amazing sex with wants you to come to his game?”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “It’s personal. And I’m not one of those women looking to score a man so I can post cute selfies of us. We agreed it would be sex only.”
“Maybe you’re the one who opened the door by letting him borrow your private plane to get home. That’s pretty personal, don’t you think? Impersonal would be like, ‘go get you an Uber, fuckboi.’”
I laugh, a little uncomfortable. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“No.” Percy’s tone is mocking. “Abby Daniels, being obstinate?”
“Keep it up, and I’ll stay up all night tonight drinking Mountain Dew.”
“Oh God.” Percy cringes hard. “Don’t even joke about that poisonous beverage.”
“It just caught me off guard is all,” I say, sitting down on a weight bench.
Percy sits next to me. “What did you tell him when he asked?”
I shrug. “I said that if I’m in town that night, I might come.”
“Good.”
“You think so?”
Percy stretches her legs out in front of her and I admire her perfectly sculpted muscles.
“I think usually, after you’ve been hurt badly, the things that scare you the most are the ones you need to do the most.”
I think about that for a few seconds. “I’m scared of lots of things, though. And a lot of it is self-preservation. When my wounds get re-opened…it’s just too much.”
“One step at a time. When is the game?”
“In two weeks.”
“Go. Take a girlfriend with you. Have a good time.” She lowers her brows in question. “Do you have a girlfriend who would go?”
I shake my head. “I don’t have time for friends. I could take my assistant Anthony with me, though.”
“I’ll go with you,” Percy offers.
“Really?”
“Hell yeah, girl. Can we take your plane?”
“Probably. I guess I could schedule it.”
Percy elbows me. “You look so serious, Abby. What if we just go and have fun and don’t overthink it?”
“I just don’t want Luca thinking I want to be his girlfriend or anything. I’m independent. I like being alone.”
“He’s the one who invited you. I say you go. What do you have to lose?”
“I guess…nothing. I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Let me know if you want me to come.” She stands back up. “Let’s go do some sprints.”
Ugh. Sprints are almost as bad as burpees. But I get up without protest, because my mind is elsewhere.
Our evening was cut short last night, but I really enjoyed my time with Luca. He’s sweet and thoughtful but still manly and sexy. If I ever did want more than sex with a man, I can see wanting it with him.
But therein lies the problem. If Luca and I got closer and he found out about my past, he’d feel sorry for me. I’d no longer be the sexy, confident woman I saw reflected back in his eyes when he looked at me last night.
Those looks from him make me feel better than anything has for a very long time. I won’t give that up. Even if it means keeping him at arm’s length.Chapter FourteenLucaI growl at my reflection in the mirror as I scrub a washcloth over the glitter on my neck. This shit is like superglue—and it’s all over my house now.
The party planner my new friends Henry and John recommended for Emerson’s sixth birthday party last weekend did a great job. All the kids loved her rainbow unicorn theme. I did, too. I thought rainbow-colored glitter sprinkled all over the tables set up in my backyard was a nice touch.
I didn’t realize it clings to the skin like a fucking leech, though. This stuff isn’t like the glitter that strippers leave on your face during a lap dance. It doesn’t smell powdery and sweet. And the kids must’ve dragged ten thousand multicolored bits of it into the house that day.
“Uncle Luca, how do I look?” Emerson twirls into my bathroom wearing a red and white tutu and a t-shirt that has the Blaze logo on the front and my name and number on the back.
