Page 52 of Considering Us

I was full, but I managed to put a dent in the most gorgeous parfait I could have imagined. The layers of ice cream, sauces, and cookie crumbles were heavenly and complemented each other so well. There were no Heath bar pieces to be seen, and for once, I was grateful. I needed a break from toffee.

“I have a question for you, Charlie,” I said, pushing the half-eaten parfait glass forward. I couldn’t eat another spoonful. “Is fifteen years too late to rekindle a one-night stand?”

“It depends,” he said, taking my glass away and, without me asking, refilling my ice water. “Are the two people involved better suited for each other now than they were then?”

I thought about the two people in 2007 who had started talking in a dinner line, both going for the same slice of watermelon. We were barely adults then, about to embark on big adventures in cities we had never visited, about to meet new people, some of whom would change the direction of our lives.Yet we ended up back in the same place, different people we had been then, but yes, perhaps better suited for each other than we once had been. And I couldn’t help but ponder if, back in 2007, our trips had both been canceled at the last minute that morning when we ate bacon together. Would we have become a couple? And if we had tried to start a relationship based on walks around a pond and hours of talking and listening to Oasis and Counting Crows and Guster in a too-small bed and an initial electric physical chemistry, would it have lasted? Would it have been enough? Did we have a better shot at it now?

“We might be,” I said, sliding my credit card over to him. “You helped me to answer my question.”

Once I reached the hotel lobby, I realized I had left my badge on the bar. I ran back in, and it was gone. I didn’t see Charlie anywhere, but there was a woman still working behind the counter. “Did you see an ID badge? I left it on the bar by accident. It says Devon Paige on it. I can show you my driver’s license if you need it.”

“No worries,” she said, handing it to me. “Charlie told me to make sure you got it. He just left. He stayed an hour after his shift ended tonight. Such a good guy.”

He stayed to talk and take care of me.There weren’t many people in my life who would have done that, certainly not Heath.Kyle would. If I needed him, Kyle would stay.

Frustrated with being in LA with Heath but finally seeing clarity, I went back to my hotel. I had never been so grateful that David’s mom always booked me the two-bedroom suite at the Residence Inn. Heath was snoring loudly from the room with the king bed in it, leaving me with the room appointed with a queen bed.Of course.

24

“Where’d you go last night?” asked Heath as he walked into the small kitchen area of the hotel suite.

I didn’t look up, continuing to sauté peppers and onions in a pan. “I had to deliver the food to David’s room and then finally got something to eat. I figured when I didn’t hear from you that you were all set on your own.” I finally glanced at him, and he was unshaven and disheveled, fresh out of bed.Kyle looks like this most of the time, I thought, but on him, it was endearing. On Heath, I found it annoying. Everything he did now was irritating to me.

“I thought you would have at least crawled into bed with me,” he muttered. “That’s why I chose the king bed.”

“Oh,” I replied, not knowing what else to say. “You were snoring pretty loudly when I got back here, so I thought it was better if we both got a decent night’s sleep.” Had Heath snored the one time I had slept at his apartment? Or the two times he had slept at mine? I hadn’t noticed it.

“I do that when I’m overtired,” he said.He slept for an entire transcontinental flight and went to bed before I did. How could he be so exhausted? Whatever.“What’re you up to now?”

“Food for David for before the game. I need to bring this over to him this morning. And usually, he wants me to hang out for a bit before he goes over to the arena. You might want to plan to meet me at the game. I’ll make sure your ticket is at Will Call.”

“Still on the floor, right?” he pressed, and I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Yes, you and I will be seated together on the floor,” I answered. I wished I didn’t have to sit next to him, but there was nothing I could do at this point. I kept thinking back to everything Charlie had said the night before. He actually hadn’t said much at all—he was just very good to me when I needed it the most—but it was the question he asked in reply to my initial question that kept coming back to me.Are the two people involved better suited for each other now than they were then?I looked over at Heath, who was scrounging through the groceries in the refrigerator.I’m here with the wrong guy, I thought.

I got ready for the game, knowing there was no way in hell I was coming back to the hotel and dealing with Heath any more than was necessary that day. As I walked across the street to the Ritz, I got a text from David’s mom, alerting me that he was having a rough morning and if I could go see him soon, that would be great. I picked up the pace and made my way past the security guard whom I had met the day before. I took a deep breath and knocked on David’s door.

“It’s me,” I announced. “Devon.”

The door opened, and David was standing before me, phone pressed to his ear, tears streaming down his face. “Okay, Mom, Devon’s here… Yeah, I think so… See you tomorrow night… Love you.” He threw the phone on the bed, and I put down my bags so I could hug him. I felt his long, muscular arms around me and squeezed him back as tightly as a woman of average height and build could, but hugging him always felt a bit strange. He towered over me.

“What’s going on?” I asked. I had experienced this with him a few other times over the years, but it was certainly stressful. I felt a huge responsibility to get him past whatever was bothering him so that he could play in the game that night. “Let’s sit.”

We sat down on the small couch, and I pulled a box of tissues closer. He took one and blew his nose before grabbing both sides of his head with his big hands and dropping his elbows to his knees. “I watched that show on the Sports News Now channel this morning.”

“The one where they go through all the players who should be traded? David, I told you to stop watching that shit. It messes with your head every time.”

“I know, I know, I can’t help myself. It’s there on the TV, I know it’s on, and I know they’re gonna talk smack about me. Why are they always talking about me?” The tears were streaming again, and I grabbed a tissue and wiped his cheeks.

“They talk about a lot of players, not just you. Who else did they mention?”

“I don’t know. I shut it off once they were done, saying that I was underperforming and probably should be with a less prestigious program so I could grow as a player. What if that’s true? What if I get traded? I have a hard enough time with the only team I’ve known since college. You know change is tough for me.”

“Of course; I know that. Your mom knows that. Your agent knows that. And we’ll always help you figure it out. Are you still talking to that sports psychologist?”

He pulled one of my cooler bags over to him and opened it, finding one of the steak wraps, removing the foil, and biting into it with a vengeance. “She told me I have imposter syndrome. That I’m worried I’m not as good as other players and that I think I’m a fraud.”

“Sounds about right, but I’ve been telling you this for the whole time I’ve known you. Can you hand me one of those wraps? I didn’t have breakfast.”

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