Page 35 of Like A Daydream
“I ruined your shirt,” she says, looking across the office, at Roscoe, anywhere but at Andrew.
He looks down at the eyeliner now staining it and shrugs. It was an old Met Division Championship shirt that has seen better days, anyway. “I can get a new one. You needed a hug more than I needed the shirt.”
She half laughs, and wipes her eyes again. “You’re too kind.”
“It’s true,” he says, “you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but I’m here if you want to.”
“I guess it can’t hurt. You’ll find out one way or another, at some point.” Danielle sighs. “I’m surprised Jet hasn’t told you.”
“He told me to wait and let you tell me, and to be patient.”
“Sounds like him,” she says with a huff. “I might need another hug after. That felt really nice.”
“I will give you as many hugs as you want,” he says, running a hand up and down her back. “Use me as will. I can give hugs or be a punching bag, or you can yell at me. Whatever you need.”
“Masochist.”
“Only on special occasions,” he says, the comment slipping out before he can think about it. “Or would this make me sadist? Because it’s your suffering.”
“I think I would be the sadist, because I’m the one inflicting pain?”
“Does it matter if neither of us are getting pleasure out of this?”
“Who says I’m not?”
A spike of heat runs down his spine and he didnotknow that he might definitely be into that if she is.
“Oh my –” Andrew shakes his head to clear it, “I guess I signed up for it when I came back here.”
She smiles. It’s a small one, but it’s still a smile.
“If it’s about to get freaky, I need to get the dog out of here,” Andrew says, going with it and trying to keep her smiling. “Nothing kills the mood like a dog staring at you.”
“Speaking from experience, I assume?”
“If Roscoe could talk he would tell some stories.”
He wouldn’t. Andrew has never brought a woman back to his house, his life already being public enough. The last thing he needed was random women knowing where he lives. Since he’s gotten Roscoe he hasn’t even brought one back to a hotel. Preferring the quiet to anything else, especially with how the last hockey season had gone.
The more women offered, the more he pulled away from it. Call it growing up, or turning into a monk. Either way, his wild card days were over.
Roscoe tilts his head and lets out a noise that sounds like he’s agreeing with Andrew, making them both laugh.
“Tell me your secrets, Roscoe,” Danielle says, smiling. Roscoe jumps up, balancing his paws on Danielle’s thigh and licking all over her face.
She laughs again and Andrew is drunk on it and wants to hear it every day.
Once he’s satisfied that he’s licked her enough, Roscoe jumps back down to the ground and lays at their feet.
“I took Harper to see her parents today,” Danielle says, “at the cemetery.”
So many pieces click into place for Andrew it almost makes him dizzy. This is the friend of JT’s who lost her best friend and now is the mom of a six-year-old. This is the friend who JT and Ainsley went to a funeral to support.
She leans on Andrew and he puts an arm around her as she tells him everything.
“I’m trying,” she says, after ten minutes, “I’m trying so hard.”
He runs his hand up and down her back again.
