Page 45 of Icing the Cougar
He doesn’t. Not for a long minute.
I follow his line of sight, expecting the skyline, maybe the clouds building out west, but he’s not looking at any of that. He’s locked on the pool deck below, eyes fixed, unblinking.
I clear my throat. “You trying to bore a hole in the concrete?”
Alfie doesn’t answer right away. His grip on the bottle tightens.
“Alf,” I say, nudging him with my elbow.
He blinks. “Sorry,” he says. “Just spaced for a minute.”
I grab my beer to take a swig. “You good, man?”
He shrugs, but it’s not the easy, I-don’t-give-a-shit gesture he usually pulls. This one’s stiff, almost mechanical. “Yeah. Just needed some air.”
I watch him for a second, not buying it. “You don’t get air inside your own apartment?”
He laughs, but it’s hollow. “It’s different up here.”
We both look down at the pool. The couple in the hot tub is closer now, faces obscured by steam and shadows, but I can see that the guy is way too handsy, pawing at his date like he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he lets go. The girl doesn’t seem to mind, though. She’s got her arms around his neck, laughing and splashing water onto the deck.
I try to find something interesting about them, but there’s nothing. They’re just another set of strangers.
Alfie is still locked in, though. He doesn’t blink, doesn’t move.
I take a sip of beer. “You know those people?”
He shakes his head. “Na.”
“Then what’s so fascinating?”
He lets out a breath, slow and tight. “Nothing. Just… I don’t know. Forget it.”
He’s lying, but I don’t push. Alfie’s always been the most chill guy on the team, but he doesn’t do feelings. He keeps everything under the surface, and if he ever cracks, he does it alone.
I wait another minute. The city breathes around us—sirens in the distance, the low thrum of traffic, wind rattling the string lights overhead. It should feel peaceful, but it doesn’t.
“Hey,” I say, “if you want to talk about something, you know you can.”
Alfie’s jaw works for a second, grinding side to side. He doesn’t look at me. “It’s nothing. Just… a long week, I guess.”
I nod, pretending to let it go.
We stand together, not saying anything as Alfie’s knuckles remain white around the bottle.
Finally, he turns to me. There’s something in his eyes I can’t place. “You did good, you know,” he says. “With Trinity.”
I shrug, suddenly self-conscious. “Thanks.”
He nods. “You ever mess it up, I’ll be first in line to smack you.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
He grins, but it doesn’t last. He tips the bottle to his lips, drains half of what’s left, and sets it carefully on the ledge.
“I’m gonna head out,” he says. “Got workout in the morning.”
“Yeah. Me too.” I watch him start for the door, then stop. “Hey, Alf?”
