Page 85 of Hell Bent
I wasn’t sure, so I tapped the player in front of me—Owen, who’d been wearing a grin like wearing a sweater ever since the game—and asked him, because he somehow always knew.
“Eleven-thirty our time,” he said. “Around there.”
I texted that to Alix and added,Don’t wait up. Long day for you.I’d wondered whether the hemophilia thing made her more tired, especially doing that hard job, which had to involve bruising and pain, didn’t it? I’d seen a couple of bruises on the outside of her right thigh the other night, and they hadn’t been small. Asking probably counted as fussing, so I hadn’t. but I’d wanted to. And had reminded myself,Keep it gentle, dude.
She texted back,I keep telling myself I love you for you. It’s so hard when you go and be a hero like that.
A jolt like somebody’d caught me by a hook around the midsection, and I thought,Figure of speech,not sure if what I was feeling was panic or pleasure. Of course, I was pretty emotional right now.
I had to think about this one. I settled on,I’ll do my best to keep doing it, then.Then I put the phone away and justfreakingenjoyedthe idea that she’d be there when I got home. That I’d get to hold her and kiss her and do all the things to her that I’d been waiting to do for so long. It was like waiting for Christmas, though. I wanted it to happennow.We’d won the game, and I wanted Alix now.
Was this even normal?
Four hours later,waking from the doze I’d finally fallen into to find a quiet, dark plane full of teammates doing the same, the massive post-game dinner of lean meats and complex carbohydrates and vegetables having been consumed. Nothing like burgers and fries and a whole lot like chicken and quinoa, to Ben’s disgust when he’d learned what we actually ate. Now it was all open mouths, closed eyes, and headphones, the occasional heavy snore, and then the plane beginning its descent as players moved stiffening, sore bodies, stretched tired arms overhead. A quiet joke, a weary laugh, the plane’s wheels touching down, the engines roaring, and we were taxiing. Down the steps, hoping my car would be at the curb for me, because I wanted to go home.
I never wanted to go home, or not exactly that. I was nevereagerto go home. I accepted. I adapted. I didn’t need, but I needed now. Ben, because he was my responsibility. Lexi. And, of course, Alix. We’d been given the day off tomorrow, with the win after the short week. A luxury, because I had Tuesday off, too, but I needed to take Ben to Vancouver again then. I could?—
Men grabbing duffels around me, not talking much anymore, just wanting to get home. And my phone ringing in my pocket.
I pulled out the phone, and Owen said beside me, “Onebenefit of not having her come to the game—you don’t have to wait for her to get home from it.”
I didn’t answer, because I was thumbing the phone, saying, “Hey.” Feeling the smile grow despite my fatigue.
Alix’s voice. “Where the heck do you actually come in? I just realized I don’t know.”
“Oh. Uh … charter terminal. You can’t see it on any … any app, or whatever. But we’re here.” I rubbed my forehead, wishing I sounded less groggy.
“Oh, shoot,” she said, and somehow, I was smiling.
“Alix,” I said. “What did you do?”
“I came, OK?” she burst out. “And now I’m in the wrong place and feeling really stupid.”
I was laughing. “Don’t feel stupid. Head over to baggage claim, and I’ll swing around to the curb and get you. I’ll text you when I’m there so you don’t have to wait in the cold.”
“Which would be great,” she said, “if I were the one who’d just won a football game and flown across the country so you could fling yourself into my arms, but I’m not.”
“Good thing,” I said. “I kinda hate the thought of you getting tackled.”
“Ha,” she said. “You do not, not if you’re the one doing it.” Which was probably true, except for that bruising. She added, “This makes my big gesture pretty silly. I was supposed to be running to you in front of your teammates, because you saved the day. That’s the way this story goes. Have you seen a single romantic movie? Return of the hero? This way iswrong.”
“And you a princess, too,” I said. “We’re definitely screwing up our romantic movie.” I could not stop smiling.
Hanging up, then out on the curb, and, yes, my practical, economical, hybrid-SUV ugly duckling amongst the swans. I’d better not let Ben see this lineup, or he’d be more convinced than ever that I was footballing all wrong. Acouple of bills for the valet, and I was about to swing in when Harlan jogged over and said, “Jennifer and I are doing the Multnomah Whiskey Library tomorrow night with some friends. Actual adult entertainment, because we can get a little family-intensive at my place, and Jennifer’s ended up with almost all of it lately. Owen’s coming, but no Dyma. Back at school. Joke goes here. Want to bring Alix along?”
“Uh—the what?” I needed to get out of here. I needed to?—
“It’s a place,” he said.
“I got that,” I said. “It’s a library. A whiskey library. OK, that’s odd, but?—”
“It’s cozy,” Harlan said. “And private. Great food, and one of the only places you can go here and not be hassled.”
“Maybe whereyoucan go,” I said. “I don’t tend to be hassled. And I’m not sure about?—”
“Once everybody sees that kick,” he said, “you will be, because that was the stuff of legend. Seven o’clock. And don’t worry. You don’t have to drink whiskey if you don’t want to.”
Alix
