Page 19 of Leo and His Love Bunny

“I’ve met plenty of females who seem to be good at it as well,” I say, feeling like I need to stick up for my gender.

She has folded the paper into what looks like a paper airplane. She looks at it, considering, and then turns it around and starts folding the other half.

It’s been ages since I made a paper airplane.

“Can I have a piece of paper?” I ask, and I can’t believe the words come out of my mouth. Seriously? I’m going to sit in this woman’s apartment and make a paper airplane?

And yet, it feels like the most natural thing in the world as she grins at me and gives me three pieces of paper instead of the one I asked for.

I like that. That she gives more than I asked.

“So anyway, after hockey, you’re going to have a different career?” she prods, and then she lifts a shoulder as her eyes focus on the paper in front of her. “A broadcaster?”

I know a lot of famous athletes who have done that, but not me. “No. I want to be a inspirational writer and speaker.”

There. It’s out there. It’s not something I share with a whole lot of people, in my casual circle groups. After all, my chances of being a success in that area are slim to none. The world alreadyhas a ton of inspirational speakers, and I’m just one more. Sure, I have a good story, but it’s not really any better than anyone else’s. Although, there’s something about a cancer survivor that fascinates people. Maybe because cancer is a disease that one in four of us will have at some point in our life.

“Wow. That will be amazing.” She looks up, her hand still on the airplane that is taking shape underneath her fingers. She really looks impressed.

I shake my head, deflecting the admiration I see in her gaze. I don’t want her to give me credit I don’t deserve.

“I’m not there yet. I might not ever be there, but I do have some speaking gigs. High schools, small businesses, church groups, and that type of thing. I try to say yes to every speaking gig I can, and most of my off-season is booked.”

“Congratulations. That’s awesome.” Her voice is sincere, and I think she actually means it.

“My idea is that you go with me. Provide refreshments for the people I’m speaking to. It’ll take a little bit of effort on my part. I’ll need to talk to the places where I’m speaking and make sure they’re agreeable to you coming.” I open my mouth, but no words came out. I’m not sure how to say this next. I... I want to let her know that she’s going to get paid for it, whether the venues pay her, or whether I do. But I don’t want her to say no, and I feel like that will be more likely if she knows that her coming is because of me paying out of pocket. I’m not naïve. I know that many of the places that I’m going to speak are not going to want to pay extra for my friend to bring cupcakes.

But they haven’t tasted her cupcakes first of all, and secondly, they haven’t seen them either. She really does come up with cute designs, and most importantly to me, the cupcakes are divine. Better than anything I’ve ever tasted. I think it’s her icing. But regardless, I make a snap decision and keep that information to myself.

“Do you think you’ll be able to talk the people into taking me?” she asks, her head tilted, her brows furrowed like she’s trying to figure out how that might work. Maybe she’s going to figure me out, but I’m going to play it close to my vest and try to keep it under wraps if I can.

I find myself folding my piece of paper, and the airplane takes shape under my fingers without much thought from me. I used to do this a lot in the hospital when I was taking treatments when I was a kid. There weren’t a lot of things to do in the hospital. They really do take care of the kids there nowadays, but I was never very content sitting around and watching TV, and for some reason, video games made my nausea worse.

The nurses and doctors I’m sure catered to me, but they teased me that I was the paper airplane champion of Stowe Town Children’s Hospital.

Hockey is my number one ability.

Motivation is number two, paper airplanes, well, they’re number three.

“Yeah. I think I can,” I say, answering her question after a pause, and I hope she thinks I was thinking about her question and not just ripping off the first answer that came into my head.

I know they’re going to take her. Because I’m going to insist upon it. And I’m going to pay. So they’d be foolish to turn me down.

“Well, I... I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I’m going to need to make—”

“I’ll make sure that you get paid. Tell me what you need in order to be able to do it.”

“That would depend on how far away it is and how many cupcakes I need. The price for the cupcakes would go down with a bigger order.”

“All right. So maybe you can give me some ballpark figures. And...” I hesitate. I don’t want to ask her for more than what shecan give, but the whole point of this is for the two of us to be together. “I’m going to have to insist that you personally show up at each event.”

She looks up from her second completed airplane, her mouth dropping, her eyes searching my face. “But my shop,” she says, then her mouth closes, and I can see those beautiful brown eyes are thinking hard. “But I could do it.”

She doesn’t elaborate, and I feel a little guilty.

“If you don’t think you can, I don’t want to put your shop out of business because you’re not going to be there. But I do think that it would be a good opportunity for you to do some PR.”

“PR?”

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