Crossing my arms as I plop into my seat after having to literally climb into the truck, he tells me to buckle up, offers me a ridiculously adorable smile, and shuts my door to jog around to the other side. His “climb” into his side of the truck looks a whole lot more like a large step.
It’s not like I’m short. I’m as tall as the average man, which is another reason I don’t do a lot of dating. Men are always intimidated by a muscular woman who also happens to be five-foot-nine, barefoot. We’re not even going to talk about how much I can lift.
Then there’s Kodi. He’s at least half a foot taller than me and somehow makes my muscles look feminine. Realization once again dawns that I like that about him. Not having to downplay who I am. He knows I play hockey and while I have historically avoided football players, I can’t deny that dating an athlete makes sense because theyget it.
Everything that comes with the life of an athlete: the constant training, the traveling for games and tournaments, the highs and lows of wins and losses, and the fact that there will be times when your sport comes first.
The rumbling of the truck’s acceleration pulls me from my inner musings just before Kodi’s smiling eyes dart toward me then back to the road as he asks, “So, whatcha wanna eat?”
9
Kodi
“Well, what did you have in mind? You are the one that asked me, after all,” she teases from the passenger seat of my truck, which has never felt as far away as it does now.
Her intoxicating sweet, orange cinnamon roll scent filling the cab of my truck is incredibly distracting as I try to remember what we were talking about.
Oh, right. Dinner. Focus, Kodi.
Digging through my brain, I try my luck. “How do you feel about seafood?”
Her eyes light up before narrowing at me, and her shoulders visibly tense. “What kind of seafood are we talking about here? Fancy seafood or . . . ?”
“Definitely not fancy. That sounds awful.” I make a “blech” sound to emphasize my point, and her small laugh tinkles around me like she’s not used to letting people hear the sound. If I wasn’t driving right now, I would have hauled her against me for one of those fiery kisses she bestowed upon me when we met.
Her brow furrows in confusion before she seems to decide to go for it. “Then seafood sounds great.”
Knowing the perfect spot, I wait at the light so I can pull onto the expressway. “So, how long have you been in Arizona?” I try for some normal conversation.
“It’s my fourth year. I grew up in Washington. The state. Not D.C. You?” There’s something in her voice that I’ll explore later, but I don’t want to push her right now when she’s actually communicating with me.
“It’s my third year. I hate it. I honestly thought I was being pranked when they said I’d been drafted here. I’m from Alaska.”
The light turns green and traffic begins moving again. That was something else I had to acclimate to when I moved here. There are so many people and it’s like maybe half of them didn’t even take their own driving test to obtain their licenses. Speak of the devil, a tiny little car cuts me off as I merge into my lane. I lay on the horn, throw my arms in the air and holler, “You could at least pretend to know what you’re doing.”
Anya snickers next to me.
“What?”
She shakes her head but she’s still smiling. “I completely agree with you. It’s why I avoid driving at all costs. It stresses me out that I don’t have any control over the other drivers on the road.” She gestures to the movie quality traffic around us in asee what I meanway.
Testing my limits I offer with a easy smile, “Well, you just call me when you need a ride, and I’ll make sure you get where you gotta go.”
Her smile falls but she’s not frowning. She looks like she’s in shock trying to find a lie in my features, but there isn’t one. I hit her with an even bigger smile.
We ride the rest of the way in a comfortable silence.
I bolt out of my seat and around the truck to open her door, offering her my hand to exit the vehicle. I’m only slightly surprised when she accepts it without any argument. Once her feet are firmly on the ground, I lift her hand and leave a kiss on her knuckles.
“Alright, let’s go Prince Charming.” Her voice is aloof but the blush tinting her cheeks gives her away.
After approaching the hostess stand, signing a few autographs, and ordering drinks, we’re seated in a large corner booth. It’s only four o’clock so it’s not busy here yet, but it will be soon.
“Are you ready to order?” The waitress delivering our drinks asks me flirtatiously, making Anya’s eyes narrow, to my great delight.
“Not yet, but we’ll start with a new waiter please,” I say while I peruse my menu, not even looking at the woman standing at the end of our table.
She doesn’t say anything, just intentionally stomps away.
