Page 44 of Slapshot
Traffic was light, and I made good time getting home, stopping at our local grocery store for supplies on the way. I’d already texted Blair my address and told her to come when she could, and the bar fridge was full of a variety of beer and soda.
I double checked the ice trays and looked around my little home. What would Blair think of it?
Admittedly, I hadn’t personalized it a whole lot since moving in. While Oscar and Mia’s house was full of knickknacks and memorabilia from trips they’d taken and homey furnishings Mia had used to brighten up the place, mine still had the paintings that came with the house and the original wall colors.
Did it look too much like a museum? I’d never cared to show off my trophies and medals from my years in hockey, and despite living alone, I always felt as though I’d be taking up space having them out collecting dust.
The front door creaked open, and Oscar and Mia strode in, arms laden with food.
“I told you not to bring anything,” I said, pecking a kiss on Mia’s cheek and slapping Oscar’s back.
“I was working out a routine in my head today, so I baked. And roasted.”
The slow roasted beef smelled amazing, and a glimpse under the cover on the second tray revealed cinnamon buns.
“Since when can you cook?” I asked, remembering the early days when Oscar had been in charge of their diet.
“You’re looking at my entire repertoire. Enjoy.”
I chuckled, retrieving two beers and a soda from the fridge.
“So… Is she here?” Mia asked, close on my heels.
“Not yet, but hopefully soon?” A knock at the door interrupted me. Mia let out a squeal and rushed to let in the last guest.
“Don’t scare her off.”
She returned a couple of minutes later with a wide-eyed Blair in tow.
“This place is really nice.”
“I’ll show you around.” Mia took her by the elbow, leading her through my too-small-to-need-a-tour home. I headed out to the back deck where Oscar had already pulled up a chair in the outdoor dining area.
“You don’t need to hover. Mia’s been desperate for you to find someone, and she likes Blair. She won’t do anything to screw you over.”
Was I that obvious?
“It’s all so new, I feel like I’m walking in a minefield. It’s bad enough she wants to label us friends with benefits. How long before I can tell her we’re dating?”
Oscar snorted.
“Maybe wait for her to bring up that conversation. She seems almost as skittish as Mia was.”
I grunted, sipping at my beer.
I could be patient.
Maybe.
But I couldn’t handle the idea that something outside of my control might blow this whole thing up in my face. It had been a near miss with that social post, but what if people got louder? Bolder? What if they said that shit to Blair’s face and she believed it that way she believed the shit her family told her? I was going to drive myself crazy with all this questioning, so for tonight, I would enjoy good friends and good food. Tomorrow, I could work out how to make the ground beneath us more solid.
Blair’s laugh drifted from inside, and I wondered what they were talking about.
“I’m making myself crazy,” I growled, dropping my head in my hands.
“Welcome to love, my man.” Oscar raised his beer in a toast and took a long pull.
“Love? No, I’m not…” I thought about how I felt toward Blair. The urge to possess her. Needing to be near her and talk to her and hear what she’d done while she was away from me.
