CHAPTER FIVE
“Will you be okay here?” Oliver zips up the jacket to his snowsuit. The outerwear athletes wear is smooth and sleek compared to the big puffy jackets sold at most outlets for regular people. It also costs way more than my hundred-dollar Columbia I picked up before leaving home.
I live in southern California. I don’t have much need for a big coat.
“Yes, Oliver. I’ll be safe inthe lodge while you practice.” It’s been two hours since we ate breakfast and he practically declared we were going to start dating to my boss. Since then he hasn’t left my side.
Rather than me following around an athlete and making sure he doesn’t get into trouble, he’s decided to stick to me and make sure I don’t forget about him in the few minutes he’s gone.
I don’t know what to do with him.
Should I be flattered? Or do I have a stalker?
My feminist side says it’s absolutely ridiculous and I need to tell him to get the hell away from me — job or no job. Then there is this other side of me — one my feminist side refuses to believe exists — who says Oliver is cute, and sweet, and from what I’ve seen a nice guy. Maybe having a hot stalker isn’t a bad thing. I mean, how many girls wouldcomplain if Ryland Bates followed them around? The newly retired soccer player could stalk me all day. This is basically the same thing. Plus, Ryland could be a regular jerky athlete like so many of them are. But Oliver is a nice guy. I’ve see it with my own two eyes.
My feminist side doesn’t like when I start thinking about acceptable cute stalkers.
Oliver stares as I battle internally. “Well?”
“Well…” Is he waiting for a goodbye kiss or something? Because that will definitely not happen.
“Are you going to wish me luck?”
I didn’t think it was possible but my frown gets deeper. “Luck.” I nod my head for a little extra support. It’s all he’s going to get.
It seems to be enough. His face lights up and he smiles like hearing the simple word is all he needs to walk away with a gold medal.Even if this is only a practice run.
Satisfied with our exchange, he turns abruptly and steps out the large door. I’m not allowed on the practice course. Well, I guess I could throw a big enough fit they would let me stand out there, but it’s cold and I don’t want to. Now that Oliver has decided we’re bound to be an item, I don’t think I have to worry about him sneaking off the slopes at theend of practice.
“What’s up with you two?” Reagan walks beside me carrying a large Styrofoam container, bigger than the last few.
Being at the games wouldn’t be such a bad deal if you could be here as a tourist. The way these people are always carrying around boxes of delicious food from the dining area makes me think it’s like being on a cruise where you have unlimited food options and gainfifteen pounds.
“Me? There’s nothing going on between Oliver and me.” I walk behind Reagan as she leads me to the set of couches this group has used as their own personal viewing area for the last week and a half.
She sits on the couch and raises an eyebrow in my direction.
I take the chair opposite. “What?” There’s no reason for her not to believe me. I said it completely realistically.
“You see this box?” She waves her hand over the top of the Styrofoam container.
“Yeah.”
“This box is full of snacks to get me through the afternoon. Cookies, two cupcakes, and these small chocolate things I’m not even really sure what they are but they were chocolate so I grabbed a bunch. Marley will be here in a few minutes with healthier options. If you spill the beans now, I’ll let you snackall afternoon.”
I hate to admit it, but it’s a tempting offer. A cookie? I haven’t had a cookie in over a month.
Like she senses my hesitation, Reagan opens the top of the box. “Double chocolate chip.”
Double chocolate chip? Are there three better words in the entire English dictionary? I don’t think so.
I’ve never considered myself an easy sellout, but this unfair. Double chocolate chip.
I’m about to give in when Marley steps in the line of sight between me and the cookie. She breaks the trance the double chocolate chip has, and I shake my head to gather my thoughts.
“Are you trying to bribe McKenna to tell you what’s up with her and Oliver with chocolate chip cookies?” Marley asks sitting on the opposite side of the couch.
“Yup,” Reagan says, no guilt about it.
