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“Huh. I must have lied.”
I clutch her knee again. “Well, after that hit, I could have beat his ass. And the team would have backed me up on it, but I chose to skip the penalty box and take the high road.”
“I was wondering why you didn’t take a swing.” She seems impressed. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
“Fuck, it was brutal!” I laugh. “I wanted to throw a punch so bad.”
She chuckles. “Okay, what’s thelast thing?”
“Getting to be out on the bike again. I’ve been driving my car for a month, and I missed this. And the company is... well, you’re tolerable when you’re not whining like a little bitch.” I shrug.
She pulls her arm back and slaps my helmet.
“Wow. Risking your safety to hit me? Hope it was worth it.”
“It was,” she grumbles. “You said you werecurious.”
“Huh. Must have lied,” I parrot.
This time when I squeeze her, it’s on her thigh. I don’t know if I meant to do that or not, but I keep the conversation moving so I don’t have to think about it.
“Your turn. What are your three things?”
“Hmm...The wedding diet is off, and I’ve been eating whatever the hell I want, and since I’m an emotional eater, I’ve already gained ten pounds.”
I like that she considers gaining weight as a good thing.
“Well, the ten looks great.” Her ass looks even better than before. I can appreciate a thick ass.
“I’m surprised to hear you say that.”
I rear my head back slightly. “Why?”
“Aren’t you on a constant diet? And don’t you usually go for the skinny itty-bitty models?”
“No, I go forconfidence. Confidence is sexy as fuck. And yes, I diet occasionally for work, but that’s because it’s part of my job as an athlete, not because I want to fit into a fucking suit.”
“Point taken.”
“What else is good?”
“Ooh! I’ve been able to hang out with my dog all week. I missed her a lot, so having her sleep on my feet every night has been a big comfort. She’s been my buddy through all this.”
“What kind of dog is it?”
“She’s an Alaskan Shepherd mix. We got her from a rescue when I was in high school.”
“That’s cool. What’s her name?”
“Chicken Salad.”
I nearly choke on my spit. “I’m sorry?”
She laughs and the vibrations against my back make me laugh even more. “I forget how funny it sounds because she’s been Chicken Salad for so long.”
“So, if you need to tell your dog to come inside, you open the door and yellChicken Salad?”
“I mean,Iwould. My parents hate the name—they call her Sally because it’s moredignified.”
