Hopping onto a banged-up Bluebelle that I need to get fixed, I wave to the girls as I head for my new apartment so I can get ready for class. “See you guys later. Happy Thanksgiving!”
Chapter Forty-Eight
“To the swanky new digs,” Robbi toasts, holding up her can of cheap domestic beer.
The rest of the group hold their drinks up, muttering their agreement.
“Thanks,” Tayler says with a smile. “Dinner is almost ready. I hope you all like spaghetti.”
That was my idea. It was either that or chili, and I figured it would be less expensive in the long run to make pasta since our invitation list kept growing. Besides, pasta is filling too.
“I’m starved,” growls Dan. “It smells fucking amazing.”
“Garlic bread?” Bull grunts.
“I made the garlic bread,” says Robbi, who magically appeared next to Bull. She’s even smiling up at him. Robbi isn’t super demonstrative, but she seems to be workin’ it with Bull.
“Yeah?” he says, looking down at her.
“Yeah.” She winks at him. “You gonna sit by me, Bull?”
I’m doing my best not to watch their interaction, but I can’t help it. Especially now that Bull’s face is the same color as our red sauce. “You want me to?” he asks Robbi softly.
“I’d love it.” Sliding her arm through his, she pulls him over to the sofa and points down for him to sit. When he does, she slides right between his legs and onto his lap.
“So that’s how it’s done,” I whisper, hoping nobody heard me.
“With someone like Bull? Yeah. You’ve got to be completely obvious.” Tayler snickers. “Hell, with all guys. Spelling it out is a must.”
Spell it out. Maybe that’s what I need to do with Cooke. I still haven’t suggested he should come here. I don’t think there’s any way it’s possible. He can’t leave England and his team. Right?
I nod toward our living room. “Are you spelling it out for Luke?”
She sighs and looks a little defeated. “Trying to, but… I don’t know.”
When my phone chimes in my pocket, I snatch it up and quickly press the FaceChat app. Cooke knew about our little party. He said he might call so he can say hi to Bull and everyone else. I smile at his handsome face as soon as he comes into view. “Hi.”
“Allo, love. Is your dinner party in full swing?”
“It is.” I flip the phone around so he can see everyone. “Say hi to Cooke, everybody.”
“Hi, Cooke,” the group shouts.
When I turn the phone back to me, I say what I probably shouldn’t say. “I wish you were here.”
“Me too, love.”
I’m about to ask him about his leg when Robbi comes up on my right. Leaning over the screen, she says, “Cooke. You should come here to rehab.”
Cooke is quiet. “Well—”
I feel my phone being pulled from my fingers by some long thick ones. “Cooke. It’s Bull.”
“Hey, mate.”
“We’ve got a state-of-the-art facility here, man. I bet if I talked to Coach, he could pull some strings.”
“I’m not—”
