Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
You best keep your hands off the mother of my son.
Then I reached for my phone again and called Ari.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Hi! You make it down to Chicago okay?”
“Yes.”
“How was the game?”
“So much fun.” I paused, running a hand over my belly. “But I have to tell you about something that happened last night after the game.”
She gasped. “You slept with him.”
“No,” I said. “But I can’t say I wouldn’t have if the opportunity had presented itself.”
“Tell me everything, right this second.”
“So we were in, like, this private room at the back of a pub, and—”
“Wait, who’s we?”
“A bunch of his teammates and some of their wives and girlfriends.”
“Got it. Go on.”
“Joe was shooting pool and I left the room to go to the bathroom, and when I came out I went to the bar to get some water. The bar was super crowded and there was this guy who offered to let me get closer, and I thought he was just being nice.”
“Oh dear.”
“He wanted to buy me a drink and put his hand on my back. I told him no, thank you, and pushed his arm away. He put it right back, and I got more forceful with him, and I was about to just walk away when Joe suddenly appeared, grabbed the guy’s arm, and got right in his face.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And he said, in like this deep, growly voice, ‘You best keep your hands off the mother of my son.’”
She let out a shriek. “Ahhhh, I am swooning up here!”
“I know! And then the guy got belligerent—I cannot imagine what he was thinking, since Joe was way bigger—and I literally had to pull him back and tell him not to punch this asshole.”
“Holy shit.”
“I was in shock. I couldn’t believe he said it out loud—he hadn’t told anyone here yet about the baby and was planning to wait another month.”
“Why?”
“Just to protect our privacy, especially mine. He knows people are going to be nosy and gossipy, if not downright rude.”
“True. So did people hear what he said about his son?”
“It was loud in there, but that guy heard it for sure. I’m not positive he recognized Joe, but I was wearing his jersey.”
“It will get out,” Ari predicted.
“That’s what I told him, and he said he didn’t care.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he was like, ‘I want everyone to know if they don’t treat you with respect, they will fucking answer to me.’”
Silence. And then, “Damn. This guy is good.”
“He is good.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “And he’s so hot. Like I was about to physically combust last night, he is so hot.”
“I don’t blame you. But nothing happened?”
“Nope. He was pretty quiet on the way home, and when we got back to his apartment, we just hugged good night and that was that.”
“What kind of hug? Like a close, lingering embrace?”
“Not really. Just more of a friendly or brotherly thing.”
“Boo.”
“Then I spent the next several hours lying in bed, talking myself out of knocking on his bedroom door.”
“Why didn’t you do it?”
“Mostly because I’m afraid of rejection.”
“Mabel, I highly doubt he would reject you.”
“Okay, but that could be even worse! Because then I’d be afraid of opening the floodgates for feelings I won’t be able to control. I could drown, Ari. Falling for him would be disastrous for me.”
“Are you sure you’d fall in love with him?”
I thought about Joe’s voice and his blue eyes and his laugh and his hand on my back—protective and strong. “Kind of.”
She sighed. “Well then, be careful.”
“I will. I’ll see you when I get back.” After ending the call, I lay there for another minute or two. When the baby gave me a little kick, I laughed. “Are you awake too? Are you hungry?” Sitting up, I swung my legs over the side and reached for my glasses on the nightstand. “Let’s go find something to eat.”
After pulling on some sweatpants and a Two Buckleys Home Improvement hoodie, I shuffled out toward the living room. I made a cup of decaf and popped a plain bagel in the toaster, then I took my coffee over to the living room window. Once again, the view took my breath away. The tree branches were bare now, their spindly fingers reaching up toward an overcast sky. Snow flurries danced outside the glass in a blustery wind. In the distance, the lake was gray and choppy. Sixteen stories below, people hurried up and down city streets, huddled in winter coats and scarves and hats.
I wondered what Joe and I would do today. If we were a couple, it was the kind of Saturday we might spend wrapped in blankets, cuddled up on the couch, watching nostalgic movies and stuffing our faces with bad-for-you snacks.
But we weren’t a couple, he probably hated old movies, and judging by the condition of his body, he didn’t eat things like potato chips and ice cream.