"I got you coffee."
"And food."
"I got you food too."
He looked entirely too pleased about that. The sight made something warm settle in my chest.
"You were really going to let me suffer for a minute, weren't you?"
"Absolutely."
"Cruel."
I laughed. "Drink your coffee, Kier." The nickname slipped out impulsively.
His hand paused briefly around the cup. Then he looked over at me. The corner of his mouth lifted. "Kier?"
I kept my attention on the road. "You hate it?"
"No, I don't hate it." I could hear the smile in his voice. I was relieved. I glanced over at him quickly. The smile was still there when he took a sip of coffee.
The conversation drifted after that. We talked about Beverly and Mrs. Thompson. Kieran remained convinced Beverly was running some sort of underground matchmaking operation.
As we neared Seattle, I switched on my phone. The first notification appeared almost immediately. And another. Then three more.
I should have known better. Three days of ignoring the outside world had apparently created a backlog.
Kieran glanced toward the phone when it lit up again. "That seems excessive."
"That's because you're looking at it from the outside."
"And from the inside?"
I sighed. "Unfortunately, normal."
By the time we crossed into Seattle proper, I'd accumulated messages from coaches, management, media staff, and at least three teammates. We'd barely made it back, and already the season was pulling me in another direction.
For years, this part of my life had felt routine. Practice. Meetings. Flights. Hotels. Games. Repeat. Today was the firsttime I could remember wishing the season would slow down long enough for me to catch my breath.
As we got closer to Kieran's apartment, neither of us mentioned the fact that we'd be going in different directions within the next hour. Instead, the conversation settled on practical things.
"When do you leave?" he asked.
I checked the time on the dashboard. "Practice starts at two. Team meeting after that. Flight leaves around six."
His eyebrows lifted. "So basically immediately."
"Pretty much."
He nodded and took another sip of his coffee. "And you'll be back when?"
"Late on the twenty-ninth if everything goes according to plan. Early on the thirtieth, if there are delays."
"You're assuming there won't be overtime."
I laughed. "Fair point."
"Or that your flight gets in on time."
