I’m sure he’s a great athlete, worthy of all the accolades and countless articles and brouhaha. But he’s just so…ugh. Arrogant. It makes me want to twist his ear and kick his feet off the fucking table.
“I can see it. You’d be cute together.” They’d make the most beautiful babies the world has ever seen.
She visibly flinches. “I couldn’t ever be with him.”
There’s tea there. And while I don’t like hockey players, I love how this woman’s face has turned as pink as her hair. I poke just a bit harder. I want her to spill the tea.
“But you want to be.”
No matter what she says, she definitely wants to be with him. She’s practically salivating as she watches him lob his dumbassness around the coffee shop with his frat boyfriends.
“He’s the youngest. The bad boy.” When the only response I get is a frown, I know my new bestie’s in trouble.
Oooooh boy. She has no idea who she’s dealing with. Her eyes flicker with something that could be judgment or caution as she pulls out her phone. Probably to google him. How she has a crush on him when she doesn’t know his name would be curious to me if I didn’t have a similar history. I still remember the taste of Loki’s kisses, three years later. And it all started with a stupid fucking crush in a fake prison cell.
“I can see your screen.”
Her face is on fire as she slaps her phone against her body.
“You should totally shoot your shot with him.”
She’s probably going to pitch the damn phone at my face. “But he’s gay.”
“I can see why you’d think that, but click the photos tab. You’ll see him with both men and women. He’s bi.” Hot chocolate tastes even better when it’s drunk over girl talk.
Would I rather she had a crush on someone whoisn’ta hockey player? Absolutely. But I’ve missed this. And I like this chick. So I’ll pretend Ares de la Peña is some rockstar or a famous chess player instead of a hockey player.
Something shifts on Eloise’s face. Suspicion replaces the concern sitting heavily on her brow. Her eyes narrow, crinkling her face.
Ah. She thinks I fucked him. Ha. Hell no. “Don’t look at me like that. I have a kid at home. I don’t want any part of your nasty boy. I mean, he’s a fantasy come to life. Athlete who moonlights as a stripper. Bad boy who takes gender studies. He’s a walking contradiction.”
After a few more clicks on her phone, she puts it face down on the table while we finish our drinks in silence. Have I steamrolled this new friendship before it’s even gotten off the ground?
Huh. It’s not me, it’s him. Her furtive glancesacross the coffee shop aren’t fooling anyone, Ares included. He clocks her watching him. For sure. I can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face. She’s got it bad.
“No.” She folds her arms.
Rolling my lips barely stops the brewing laugh from escaping. “If you say so.”
We work in silence for a while, each sipping our drink, and Eloise casting sneaky looks over at Ares until he and his posse depart the building, and a calm returns to our space.
After about an hour, I glance up to find her staring at me.
“Can I ask a question?” Her face is pale, and she looks like she might puke just from asking that, never mind whatever she really wants to ask.
“Sure.” I drop my pen onto my notebook. I’m so over the history of photography anyway.
“You said you had a child. What’s their name?”
This poor woman has no idea what she’s getting herself into. Asking me about my son is like asking Hermione to tell you all about her favorite spells.
“His name is Wyatt.”
She smiles. “Cute. And…uh…” She wrings her hands on the table. I know what’s coming, it’s the question that always follows my disclosure that I’m a mom. “What about his dad?”
The urge to snap brews deep inside me. It’s not her fault. Even after three years I can’t temper the urge to break shit when he comes up in conversation.
“We don’t talk about him.”
