Page 59 of Coast to Coast

I laughed out loud. He really had liked the book.

Me: Goodnight, Tom.

Tom: Goodnight, Calliope.

Yeah, I loved it when he called me Calliope. And Cal and Callie. Who the fuck was I kidding, it didn’t matter what he called me, I would come when he called.

TOM

The week-plus without Callie and Crew went surprisingly fast. I buried myself in my first love, hockey. Their next visit would run through my first pre-season game, and from experience, once the season started, the pace of everything picked up. Sure, we had mini-breaks and days off between games, but most of those days off were filled with practice and travel.

While my texts with Callie tended to turn sexual, we had been talking a lot about everything. I told her shit I’d never shared with anyone. We’d even talked about hockey camp when some of my friends had put a laxative in my hot chocolate. It was enough that I accidentally mentioned Callie several times while talking to my mother. And Patty being Patty, she didn’t miss a trick. I usually looked forward to her visits, but this next one was purposefully timed with Callie’s next visit. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait until we were in Vancouver at the end of October.

Me to Callie: My mom is coming out during your next trip.

Callie: She must miss Crew.

Me: Oh, she was good to wait until October. But she’s planned a trip here to figure out what your story is.

My phone rang, Callie. She always called when she thought texting wasn’t enough to get our point across or if she thought there was more to the story than what I was putting into words. It was an interesting concept; there was no beating around the bush; we just said what we wanted to say.

“Okay, I’m all ears. Why is it so urgent for your mother to meet Crew’s nanny?”

“I guess I talk about you a lot,” I answered, more than a little mortified.

“You do?” she asked with a slight lilt, indicating that she was surprised.

“Yeah, of course I do. Outside of hockey, the team, my coaches, and physical therapists, you are the only one I talk to. So when she asks me about my day, she gets an earful about you.”

“Tom?” she asked, pausing and taking a second to spit out the rest. “What are we doing here?”

That was Callie. Of course, she would come straight out and ask me that. “I think if we’d met differently, we’d be getting to know each other better. But since this is how it is, I think we’re still getting to know each other with boundaries.”

“Boundaries? Or Barriers?” she asked with a laugh.

“Both. And then we mixed in the cutest little cock block in the world with thousands of miles between us more than half the time,” I answered.

“Hey, Tom? I really like you too,” she said, and I swear my heart jackhammered in my chest. That is what I was saying. I talk about her because I like her. I talk about her because I thinkabout her constantly. I want to share everything with her and know what she’s thinking.

“Callie, do you mean you like me because I’m the best boss on the planet? I need one hundred percent clarity here. Because if you mean what I think you mean, I’m not holding back anymore. I’m going all in.”

“Don’t hold back,” she whispered, then raised her voice just a bit, “And don’t call yourself my boss again unless we’re doing some role-play in the bedroom, okay?”

“Got it. But Cal, do you think we need to tell Sam and Kelsey?” I asked, concerned about what Crew’s mother would think about me dating our nanny.

“Not yet. I want to get to know you without the pressure of outside influences. And once we tell them, no matter how understanding they are, there will be a weight on this thing. I mean, what if we kiss, and there’s no chemistry?”

“Ha! Fat chance on that,” I answered confidently, though conceding that there was nothing to tell anyone for now.

“So we continue to ‘fake date’ but know that it’s now ‘real dating?’” I asked.

“Exactly. Guess what I just did while we were talking?” she asked.

“Spill.”

“I just checked in for my flight. I’ll see you in less than twenty-four hours.”

“Your room or mine tomorrow night?” I asked, trying to gauge her temperature on bed sharing.

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