Page 105 of Hard Hitter
He sat, though. If he’d gone to the trouble of inviting the whole team into his home, hiding in the kitchen area went against his message.
The message was hard enough to articulate anyway. He just knew he needed... more. More openness. More contact. Sitting there, wedged between his teammates, he wondered if it was too little too late. But Ari had shown him thatsome of his solitary habits were breakable. She’d speared through a number of them without even trying.
“Pizza and beer,” Beacon sighed. “There’s no better way to refuel.”
“This is more relaxing than the bar,” Castro agreed. “But the puck bunnies can’t find me here.”
“They’re not looking anyway,” Trevi teased him.
“Shut it, Mr. Engaged,” Castro grumbled. “We don’t all have the perfect girlfriend.”
“How am I perfect?” Georgia asked from the kitchen. “Make it good or I’ll whisper to the PuckeredUp blog that you have a tiny penis.”
There was a roar of laughter, and Castro sputtered praise at Georgia, a terrified look on his face.
“Get over here, Castro,” Jimbo called, waving the PS4 controller in the air. “It’s your turn atCall of Duty.”
O’Doul got up, too. “Who needs a beer? I’m throwing you all out in ninety minutes, though. Got to get some rest before we fly to Tampa.”
His guys began to gather up the plates and stack them into his dishwasher. It was the first time he’d ever heard a lot of male chatter and smack talk bouncing off the exposed-brick walls of his condo.
He kind of liked the sound of it.
THIRTY-ONE
FRIDAY, APRIL 1ST
Standings: 3rd Place
6 Regular Season Games Remaining
The team traveled to Tampa and Nashville without Ari. Her contract specified that she would travel with the team at least 85 percent of the time, and her average was already higher than that. So she spent a few days letting her mother fuss over her, and showing Uncle Angelo all the new things in the neighborhood.
The windows and door that had been broken during her scariest day on earth were all fixed. The fire escape was tuned up, and a newer model ladder was installed, one that was less likely to lead to a break-in.
On the first day of his visit, Uncle Angelo had told her that the house was to be hers. “It’s yours already, honey.”
“I don’t know what to say,” was her reply.
“Say you’ll look after it, that’s all.”
She thanked him profusely. And after that, she began to look at the place with new eyes. The living room walls mightlook fabulous in a new color. A creamy yellow, maybe, with contrasting baseboards and molding.
“Maybe someday you’ll be able to afford to renovate the kitchen,” her mother suggested. “If you took out that wall, opening it up to the dining room, you’d have more light throughout the main floor.”
“That would look spectacular,” she agreed.
“When you have children you’ll need a safety gate at the top of the steps,” her mom added. “And maybe a carpet runner on the stairs. They’re a bit slick.”
“Doesn’t seem like I’ll be needing to worry about that anytime soon,” Ari said.
Her mother patted her hand. “You never know. You and that Patrick fellow would make pretty babies.”
“That’s not really on the table,” she said quickly, not wanting to encourage her mother’s fantasy.
“I don’t know,” her mom argued. “He’d look pretty good on the table. Or up against a wall, or...”
“Mother!”
