Page 58 of Hell Bent
“Never mind. What’s next weekend? Home game, or away?”
“Home. Gone Saturday night only. And bringing Ben to the game on Sunday, if you both want to come.”
“I can do that,” she said. “I’m not committing to the whole thing yet, because I’m not sure. But I’ll stay over next Saturday night.”
“And if I get that tutor sorted out,” I said, “and get Ben more settled, you and I can go out after that game. Alone.”
She said, “That would be acceptable,” and pushed herself up from the floor. “I need to go home.”
“Wait. Why? We could …”
“Yeah, right. Consider your apartment. Then tell me what we could do.” She was laughing again, though.
“Next time,” I said, jumping up myself, “I’m figuring something out.”
“You do that,” she said. “As long as it doesn’t involve the No-Tell Motel.”
She was still smiling when I kissed her. That was nice.
Not so much on the saying-goodbye-in-the-hall deal, though. We needed a room. A trailer. A car.Something.Because I needed to touch this woman.
23
THE MOST AGGRAVATING WOMAN
Sebastian
Alix called me at eight the next evening, to my surprise.Hey,I thought as I swiped my phone to answer,this is going better and better.I moved out of the living room and into my bedroom, because, yes, there was another car-crash-and-explosions movie playing on the big-screen TV.
As soon as I answered the phone, Alix said, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
“Uh … what?” I racked my brain for what I hadn’t told her. As far as I was concerned, I’d had to tell her way too much.
“You saved a touchdown!”
“Uh … yeah.” I was confused. “Were you in the ladies’ room or something?”
“Of course I wasn’t in the ladies’ room. We missed a lot of the game, is what, because of the hangover deal.”
“Oh.” I felt somehow lighter. “Well, yeah. I made a tackle.Onetackle. That’s not all that impressive. Not like I’m a defensive back or something.”
“Sebastian.” That stern voice of hers, the one I kinda dug. Her foreman voice, I was guessing. “The announcers said itwas a perfect kickoff, which is harder now, because …. something something rules, andthenyou tackled about the hardest guy to tackle in the game!Andkicked the winning field goal! At least I saw that one. Why didn’t you say anything when I didn’t mention it, though?”
“Because it would’ve been a dick move?” I was smiling now. Couldn’t help it.
“You must have thought I didn’t care,” she said. “You must have been hurt.”
“Hey. I’m thirty-one years old. I’m a professional athlete. I can’t afford to get hurt when somebody doesn’t tell me what a strong, brave boy I am.”
She saw right through that one, because she said, “Come on. You thought, ‘Who is this woman that she’s not impressed by something that impressive? And why am I hanging out with her?’”
“Maybe a tiny bit.”
“Ha,” she said, and I laughed.
“What Ididthink,” I said, “was that nobody poundsyouon the back after you do your job. Or shows it on replay to millions of people as an example of excellent wiring. They expect you to do it, that’s all.”
“Oh, come on,” she said. “How can I bask in your reflected glory if you won’t even reflect it?”
