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Anton is probably furious. He’s the more mature brother by far, and he’s always trying to keep his brother in line, but it’s an impossible task. And we’re starting a new season, so Anton’s got plenty of shit to keep up with in his own lane.
I’m about to text Silas about Alexei when a message pops up on my screen.
Reese: Hey, I’m dying to know…did they take your stick?
I grin at the phone, the unexpected message from her like the sun breaking through the clouds on a dark, gray day.
Me: No, they knew I was expecting that. Instead they filled up a cooler with a bunch of giant dildos buried under ice and when I reached in for a Gatorade the fuckers took pictures of me standing there holding a dildo.
Reese: OMG I just laughed really loud on the El train and everyone’s looking at me now.
Me: One of these days I’m gonna get them all back good.
Reese: Oh, on another subject, I had the best coconut shrimp EVER the other night at a seafood place on the northside. It made me think of Kauai. Maybe we can go there sometime.
Me: Is this your way of asking me out?
Reese: As a friend, yes.
Me: I’d love to. You weren’t at a seafood place with some other guy, were you?
Reese: No! I took my friend Angelia there for her birthday. I don’t date, remember?
Me: Yep. But a nun’s habit doesn’t suit you.
Reese: I’m ignoring that. When can you meet up for dinner?
Me: I’m traveling for the next couple days. Thursday night?
Reese: That’s my night at the shelter.
Me: Okay, I have games this weekend, so how about Sunday night?
Reese: Yes.
Me: Pick you up at 6?
Reese: See you then. And I’m expecting to see that picture your teammates took of you.
I smile at the screen, considering whether I should tell her where I am, and why. But I dismiss the idea. I’m hurting enough over my dad; I don’t want to rub salt in the wound by talking about it.
Hopefully Reese and I can have a nice, quiet dinner where I can gain her trust just a little bit more. Our night together in Kauai is still fresh in my mind, and even though I went out with other women after that when I thought I’d never see her again, now that she’s back in my life, I’m planning to wait for her. She’s damn well worth it.Chapter TwelveReese“What’s with all the celery?” Angelia asks me, her brows knitted together in confusion.
“Oh.” I shake myself out of the daze I was in and look down at the mountain of diced celery on the kitchen counter in front of me at the shelter. “I guess I was daydreaming.”
Truth is, I know I was, but I’m not going to admit it to Angelia. I’ll get an earful and then some if I tell her I was thinking about a man. Last night I saw Knox being interviewed on ESPN after a game, and I haven’t been able to shake thoughts of him since.
He had his resting brood face on as he talked seriously about his team’s defense this season. It made me fluttery inside to watch him in his element, talking so confidently about his team’s strengths. I also felt a surge of pride in him, even though we’re only friends.
I didn’t think it was possible for us to be just friends when he came in to see me that day at the shelter. The attraction between us is still strong. But we seem to be making it work. Just because we feel an attraction doesn’t mean we have to act on it.
It’s that dead mid-morning time on Thursday when I’m just getting started with my day at the shelter and the residents who helped Angelia with breakfast have all cleared out to go to work or class. A requirement of staying here is that any women who are physically and mentally able must work or take classes.
There’s just one woman left in the kitchen, and as soon as she finishes the dishes she was working on and hangs up her dish towel to dry, she says goodbye to me and Angelia and heads out.
“Have you heard yet?” Angelia says to me in a low tone once we’re alone in the kitchen.
I turn to look at her. “Heard what?”
Her expression is grim. “The Mission board of directors met last night and voted to cut all non-essential programming here.”
I freeze, the knife going still in mid-air. “What does non-essential mean?”
“It means everything but the beds and non-perishable food.”
My heart rate flies into a frenzy as I set the knife down. “Non-perishable food?”
“I’ll be making a lot of PB&J’s here soon. If I even get to keep my job.”
“Wait, what? The residents here are going to have to eat peanut butter and jelly every day?”
