Parental Guidance (Ice Knights #1)(44)
Okay, taking advice from the guy who had such a messy personal life probably wasn’t the best idea, but the man made sense. Caleb swiped his phone on and hit the text icon. He thumb-typed each word slowly, being careful to make sure each one was the one he wanted.
Caleb: Thinking of you.
And being a giant cheese-ass about it.
He hit the back button until all the words were gone.
Caleb: Taking off for Buffalo.
Hello, it’s Itinerary Man here to text boring things.
Delete. Delete. Delete forever.
Caleb: Have a kick-ass day.
And now I’m a motivational bot.
He held his thumb down on the text and clicked select all and delete.
It shouldn’t be this hard—with other women, it wasn’t. He wasn’t a player like Christensen or everybody-just-naturally-likes-me chill like Petrov, but he wasn’t a clueless dork, either. Why couldn’t he figure out what to say to Zara? Finally, after staring at the empty message box for a solid three minutes, he scrolled to the gif section. He picked one of a Great Dane who looked a little like Anchovy pulling a blanket down from on top of a crate as he walked inside of it and lay down, totally covered by the blanket. He hit send.
They were speeding down the runway when his phone pinged with a message from Zara. It was a picture of her and Anchovy sharing a pillow with the Ice Knights ball between them. There weren’t any words, but he didn’t need them. Just seeing her put that goofy-ass smile on his face.
…
For being so small, packing up her miniatures scenes for the Friends of the Library cocktail party was a giant pain in Zara’s ass. Each had to be double-checked for flaws, surrounded by protective Bubble Wrap, and then placed inside boxes that were padded so nothing would move during delivery tomorrow. And she had to do all that while Anchovy kept trying to hand her his Ice Knights tennis ball—no doubt because he could feel the stress stringing her tight and figured a game of catch would loosen her right up.
Good thing being a woman often meant being a stellar multitasker, because she was able to toss the ball, box up the last of the scenes, and dance horribly without even a hint of coordination as Beyoncé sang. She’d just poured a glass of wine, raised a glass in celebration of the end of her period, and switched from Queen Bey to an episode of Law & Order (she really needed to find a new show, but there were so many episodes) when her phone buzzed with a FaceTime request from Caleb.
She tapped accept without thinking twice about her hair or her lack of makeup or that she was in her ratty sleep T-shirt again. “How’s Detroit?”
“The food’s good,” he said as he moved around what looked like an upscale hotel room. “Petrov is originally from here, and he took us to this takeaway place called Chef Greg’s Soul-N-the Wall, where he actually broke this crazy-strict nutritional regimen he’s been on to get a Boogaloo Wonderland hoagie sandwich that was loaded with beef, sauce, cheese, and caramelized onions. The damn thing smelled so good, I had to get one, too. It did not disappoint.”
She curled her legs underneath her and propped the phone up on the edge of the couch. “And now you’re tucked back up in your room?”
“Yeah, the coach is a stickler for curfew and he sets an early one. What are you doing?”
“You know me.” She flipped the camera so he could see the screen of her TV. “It’s Law and Order time.”
“You’ve got a serious problem,” he said, settling back onto a bed, draping his arm overhead so it rested against his upholstered headboard.
The move gave her a very good view of his biceps, and the ornery glint in his dark eyes was all the proof she needed to confirm that he knew it. Hell. That wasn’t fair. Like she hadn’t spent enough time thinking about him since he’d walked out of her apartment the other night.
“What can I say?” she said, fighting not to fan herself right here and now. “I like what I like.”
“What else do you like?”
Long walks on the beach, chatting with friends over tea, coming all over his face…the usual. Thank God her brain engaged to save her from herself before she could say that out loud. “Baby Ruths and red wine, as you found out the other night.”
“And that T-shirt.”
“What’s wrong with this shirt?” She looked down, tugging her shirt lower and holding it out a bit to make sure it didn’t have chip crumbs or anything on it. “It’s comfy.”
“Don’t worry, I like it, too—especially how well loved it is.”
She glanced down again, trying to figure out what he meant, and that’s when she saw it. The dark shadows of her nipples were clearly visible under the threadbare cotton because of course they were. Things couldn’t be simple and uncomplicated when it came to her. She had to have an auto headlight function when it came to Caleb Stuckey.
“When did you realize?”
He didn’t even bother to look guilty. “That first night we watched TV together on FaceTime.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” She wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed, annoyed, or turned on. In truth, she was a little of all three—okay, a little of two and a lot of the last one. “Is that why you had to change clothes while I was watching?”
“Oh, you noticed that?” he asked as he stood up. The view on her phone was jostled a bit while he set his phone down on something and then stepped back and peeled off his shirt before dropping it to the floor. “And have you thought about it since?”