“The men’s league.”
“Well, that’s shitty. I guess I’ll strike basketball player off my list of possible career choices.”
“Plus, there’s so many people. Teammates. The spectators.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, sounds awful.”
I peer around, searching for a drink, and realize Charley had me so distracted that I forgot to order one. The pizza smell lingers as far as the bathroom as I unwrap one of those plastic cups and fill it with water. I take a few huge gulps to wash dinner down. After throwing my cup away, I grab another one and unwrap it before filling it up for her. After a quick check in the mirror to make sure I don’t have any food on my face, I head out into the main room.
“I’m trying to think of any job where you don’t have to be around people.”
“Long distance truck driver.”
I hand her the drink. “I see you’ve thought about it.”
“A lot,” she says, taking the drink and offering me a smile.
“A lot, and yet you only have one option.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t make job descriptions. I figure anything customer service is out of the question.”
“Maybe a mailwoman?”
“I thought about that. But there’s the off chance of seeing people outside or having people who show up and want you to hand their mail to them instead of putting it in the box.”
I laugh out loud. She really has put a lot of thought into this. “Okay, people are out of the question, but what about animals? Zookeeper, dog trainer, or you can start your own pet bed-and-breakfast.”
She eyes me over her cup and then lowers it. “You were right.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific. I’m right about a lot of things.”
“Sometimes it is good to talk about things.”
I lie in the next bed, crossing my ankles. “Do you prefer pitch dark? Or some bathroom light?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, when we go to bed.” I peer over to find her glaring at me. “I’m sleeping in this bed, don’t you worry. And I won’t call you beautiful again.”
“Cade…” She studies the way I’m laying. “You’re sleeping in your own room.”
“Fat chance. One, it’s after curfew and my ass is not getting benched tomorrow. And two, I’m not letting that statue out of my sight.” I peer over at her bag to make my point. “Plus, I don’t snore. Do you snore? Because I can call down to the front desk and get some earplugs.”
“I don’t snore, but it doesn’t matter because you’re not spending the night.”
“You make it sound so dirty,” I tease. “I’m at least ten feet away from you, and I have no intentions other than getting a good night’s sleep to prep for the game tomorrow.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“As a fourth-down play on the one-yard line.”
“I think you missed the part where I said I like to be alone.”
“But that doesn’t pertain to members of The Death Club. You’re stuck with me.”
She huffs out a breath, and I smile to myself.
Where has Charley-not-Charlotte been all of my life? This is fun.