The foam roller she brought over has all of these grooves and indents on it, it works like a deep tissue massage, and it’s a Godsend on my muscles after hard games.
“I heard from Bree the other day. Are you planning on going to your parents’ anniversary party?” She jumps up and sits on the kitchen island, grabbing a smoothie and putting the straw between her lips.
“Yeah, I need to take a look at the dates though. I am not looking forward to going and potentially having to explain why I suck at my job right now.”
Mia interrupts me abruptly, lifting her hand in the air.
“Don’t do that. You don’t suck at your job, Nate. Everyone faces pressures at work, yours are just more extreme. There’s no shame in admitting you’re struggling with some of it. I’m proud of you for talking about it instead of keeping it all in. Plus, you get to choose what you want to share. So, if you don’t want to share anything, it’s up to you.” Mia hops off the counter and wraps her arms around my waist. She nestles her body into mine.
“Thanks, Smalls,” I murmur, pulling her tighter towards me. Mia’s hands squeeze around my waist and I wince a little at the pressure of her tiny arms around my sore ribs.
“Shit, am I hurting you?” She pulls back.
“You? Hurt me?” I say through a strained stretch and a lousy half grin. “I’m good, Mi. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”
Her eyebrows crease as she folds her arms over her chest. “That definitely sounds like a challenge and I will be taking you up on that, but it'll have to be another time, because right now I need to get going.”
I groan as she walks to the other side of the kitchen. She’s dressed in a bright blue workout set with blindingly whitesneakers. She really would be the easiest person to find in a crowd simply by her wardrobe choices. I’d still probably find her eyes first though.
“Have a good day,” I say as she’s grabbing her smoothie off the counter and puts her bag on her shoulder.
“You too, Nate.” Mia turns back and smiles at me as she reaches the door.
After Mia leaves, I get to work with the foam roller. My quads are fucking killing me this morning and I know if I don’t try to loosen them up, they’ll only be worse tomorrow.
“Fuuuuck,” I whisper as I roll back and forth over my legs, one at a time. Every muscle feels tight, every inch of my body feels like it needs a relief. It’s also been too fucking long since I’ve touched a woman and I know I’ve got a lot of pent up frustration there, but that’s no one’s fault but my own. I made the decision to stop sleeping around. It’s been months since I’ve had sex. When Laura and I ended things a few months ago, I wasn’t upset at all—I think part of me actually felt relieved. Which is such a fucked up thing to admit, because Laura’s great, but it wasn’t going anywhere and my mind wasn’t in it.
For the last week, Liam’s voice has been playing on a loop in my mind. Being best friends with someone you used to have feelings for is a complete mind fuck. Because seeing her openly flirt with a friend of mine for the first time, feels maddening almost and then Liam says things like,
“It's only a matter of time before someone else comes in and sweeps her off of her feet. If you’re one hundred percent okay with that, then fine.”
And it fucks with my head.
BecauseI amfine with that.
I have learned to be fine with that. Because Mia is my best friend. And I’m hers.
I have been fine with that for years.
So, fuck off Liam. Get out of my head.
This morning I called Quinn and set up an actual meeting with her at that rental space, considering last time I basically just crashed her tour. I’d love to bring Nate so he can have a quick look, too. He’s really handy and could probably point out a few things I may have missed. He has football practice all morning, but he’s usually free after three.
I hit Nate’s number in my speed dial once I’ve confirmed that Quinn is free later and he answers, breathlessly.
“Hey there, did I interrupt something?” I ask playfully.
“Very funny. I’m out running, about to be back home.” His voice evens out just before I continue.
“Ah, okay…” I trail off as I’m trying to pull a rogue string from my t-shirt, shifting all attention from this phone call.
“Mi, you called… what’s up?” Nate’s voice brings me back to the present.
“Yeah. Oh, you know what, we actually should discuss Ford and Abby’s engagement party.”
“All I know is I need to bring some beer.”
“Yes, beer. I gave you a very easy task.”
