Page 14 of Home Run

“What’s wrong?” Scott asked as he slid me a glass of champagne. The bar behind him was decorated in garland, colorful bulbs, and snowflakes. Sprinkled around the tabletops were tiny palm trees wrapped in Christmas lights.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” I placed my hand over the base and moved the glass in a circle.

“You’re frowning. There’s one thing Hope Crawford never does, and that’s frown.”

“I frown.” I couldn’t seem to stop.

“Very rarely and only when you’re genuinely upset about something.” He leaned onto the bar. “What’s going on? Tell old Scotty what’s got that smile upside down.”

His mangling of the phrase forced my lips into a neutral position. Still not smiling, but not down in a frown any longer. “Daphne insinuated I need a man to be happy.”

Scott stood straight up. “That doesn’t sound like Daphne.”

I huffed, my hair flying away in the process. “It’s how I took it.”

“Tell me what she said. Exactly.”

I fidgeted under his cool stare, almost forgetting how fondly Scott felt towards Daphne and Marissa. “She said something about there being more to life than cycling and then something about starting to look for my soulmate.”

His face relaxed and then lit up a little. “Oh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just,” he folded his arms over his chest and glanced around the bar, making sure no one needed him before he continued, “you’ve been more focused on cycling than ever before. It’s given you an amazing couple of years. Don’t get me wrong. The rewards for your hard work are impossible to deny. But…it’s been a noticeable shift.”

What the hell did that mean? “Explain.”

“Do you remember our college apartment?”

I snorted. Daphne’s parents bought it, because of course they did, and we were allowed to decorate however we saw fit. “Your room was like a goth death metal dungeon or something. Everything black. No light. I seem to remember a lot of chrome.”

“That’s pretty much my entire aesthetic until five years ago. And yours?”

I wasn’t so sure I liked where he was going with this. “Pink, blue, and purple.”

“Rainbows everywhere. Pillows and blankets and gauzy shit from floor to ceiling. It was like a princess threw up in there.”

“It was ice cream themed.”

He cringed. “That explains so much about you. Look Hope, I love you to death, but that pink, purple ice cream princess has kind of vanished. In her place is a lean, mean winning machine. I love you both, but wouldn’t it be great if both of your sides could live together in harmony?”

“Maybe. I’m still not sure what that has to do with soulmates.” The champagne tingled on my tongue as I finally took my first sip.

“Look, be who you want to be. That’s not my business or Daphne’s for that matter. If you want cycling to be your whole life, then be the champion you are. But it might be nice to share some of that gold medal joy with someone who also likes ice cream as much as you do.” His eyes rounded as he looked past me. “And maybe someone who’s also a first-class athlete. Hey Rhett. What can I get you?”

Scott became visibly excited as Rhett stopped beside me, his hand on the back of my chair, the heat of his body wrapping around my bare arms and legs, closely followed by the faint musk of his cologne. “Hope. How the fuck are you? You look fucking gorgeous.”

It wasn’t visible, but I blushed inside from head to toe. Especially when I remembered how he licked ice cream out of my belly button.

Share some of that gold medal joy with someone who also likes ice cream…

“Well hello there, stranger. I hear congratulations are in order. Do you have a ring or something?”

Rhett grunted. “Not yet. It’s not like the Olympics where you get your gold medal right away.”

My heart skipped a beat. He looked me up, knew exactly who I was. And, most importantly, he was here.

Rhett scanned the bottles behind Scott, his eyes lighting up. “Colonel E. H. Taylor, please.” He dropped a kiss onto my cheek and sat on the stool beside me. “It’s fucking hard to find these days. Kind of like certain women.”

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