Overnight Sensation(64)
“No,” I say immediately, and I’m not even a little sorry.
“Why, because they’re not healthy?”
“No, because I was mad at you.”
He laughs. “You weren’t mad at me a few minutes ago when you were having your second orgasm.”
“Don’t rub it in,” I warn him. “Unless you’re, um, rubbing it in.” I feel a happy spasm just thinking about it. Even though he’s confusing, I’m ridiculously attracted to him. I don’t think I can walk away from him. Not just yet.
“So you’re saying I deserve those cookies?”
“I suppose,” I grumble. “The best I can do is ice cream. I hid a quart in the back of your freezer. I bought it for myself.”
“Heidi,” he whispers. “Will you share your ice cream with me? Fantastic sex makes me hungry. And then will you share my bed, so I can hold you all night long?”
“Okay,” I say, caving in immediately. And I have a feeling this might become a trend. “But I also need to check on Bayer.”
“We’ll get Silas to do it,” Jason says. “I don’t want to share you tonight. I’ll text him right now.”
He gets out of bed, and I admire his shapely backside as he jumps into a pair of sweatpants.
I don’t want to share you tonight. Such a bossy sentence!
It makes me tingle, damn it.
We’re sitting at the kitchen table eating Chunky Monkey out of the container when Silas eventually comes home. He takes one look at us and smirks. “I see how it is.”
“Don’t judge,” I say with a sigh. Jason and I are dressed in hockey T-shirts yanked from his drawer and we both have sex hair.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He drops his jacket over a chair. “So this is how it’s going to be?”
“We’re having a thing,” Jason says, digging his spoon into the ice cream.
“A thing?” Silas asks. “Is that, like, a relationship? I thought you were over those.”
“So did I.” Jason shrugs. “Did you get my text?”
“Sure did. Just came from Bayer’s place. I brought him a glass of water and tucked him in, so you’re off the hook.”
“Thank you.” I feel guilty, though. “How is he?”
“Fine, but…” Silas shakes his head. “He keeps saying the R word.”
I’m stumped. “Relapse? Revenge?”
“Retirement,” Silas and Jason say at the same time. And I swear both of them shudder. “That’s horrible, man,” Jason says.
“Yeah.” Silas clears his throat, and the mood is as somber as if someone died. “Early pre-game skate tomorrow.”
“I’ll set an alarm,” Jason promises.
Silas gives us a wave and heads off to bed.
“You have to work tomorrow?” Jason asks.
“Sure do. At the stadium, too.”
“What’s your new job this week?”
“Oh, you’ll see,” I promise. “You won’t be able to miss me.”
23
Jason
The next morning, I feel…reflective. I guess that’s the right word. It’s not that I regret asking Heidi to trust me. Our “thing,” as I insisted on calling it, is something I want.
But as I shower after the morning skate, I wonder if my rusty heart still knows what to do. Let’s face it—the last time I started dating anyone I was sixteen years old. I didn’t have to shave every day, and I thought a trip through the drive-thru at McDonalds was a fun night out on the town.
Heidi deserves only the best. I just wonder if that’s really me.
On the way home, I stop at the florist’s. Flowers never go out of style, right? “What should I bring home for my new girlfriend?” I ask the tattooed woman behind the counter.
“Honey,” she growls. “This is New York City. I have seventy-six different flowers in that cooler, from all over the world. Columbia. California. Ecuador. The Netherlands. Even Thailand. You gotta give me some guidance.” She opens a binder on the countertop that’s filled with photos of arrangements. She flips to a tab labeled Clueless Boyfriends & Husbands. “Here. This is your section.”
“Wow. You got us all figured out?”
“You’ve got no idea. Prices range from forty bucks to three hundred and fifty. And if you need to narrow down the occasion, I can guide you.”
“Guide me, then.” I point at an overflowing bouquet of pink flowers. “That’s nice, right?”
“Yeah, but those orchids say I’m sorry I forgot our six-month anniversary.”
“Oh.” When did flowers get so complicated? “What does this one say?” I point to another bouquet in red.
“That’s for when you canceled a dinner date because you had to work late.”
“Well, I’m looking for the bouquet that says we had a fun time together. That’s all. I want her to know I’m thinking happy thoughts about her.”
“Ah. You’re not up to page three yet. You’re still on page one.” She turns back a page.
“How many pages are there?”