“I said, I thought you guys got a full renovation of the locker rooms because of the fancy titles you keep winning,” she repeated herself with a grin.
“I see you're in a great mood,” I muttered, reaching over for my earbud.
Catching a glimpse of the old Rosie was calming. She looked happier and more balanced compared to the past couple of times I've run into her.
I wondered how she did it. Dealing with crazy mood swings.
She lifted a shoulder and, adjusting her baby-pink workout jacket, offered a small smile. “You smell.”
“No one's forcing you to sit next to me,” I pointed out the obvious.
Rosie took the phone from my hand andfrowned at the screen. “TikTok, really? That's like the worst thing you can do when you're upset.”
“I'm not upset,” I replied automatically, earning an eyeroll from her.
“You can't bullshit the master bullshitter, Derek,” she grinned at me. “I'm the best at saying 'nothing's wrong' when all you want to do is scream. Trust me.”
I did trust her. I knew from what little she told me that she struggled with an injury, and her moods were all over the place. Maybe we were both equally broken.
But she seemed to have it all together. On some days.
“What are you doing?” I frowned at her as she was typing on my phone.
“I'm giving you my playlist,” she replied, not even looking up as she opened my Spotify and searched there. “Blasting whatever that was or TikTok is really the worst thing for you.”
“I don't need your music. I have my own,” I muttered defensively, and I wondered how the hell I was ever a playboy if I couldn't stop my teammate's little sister from going through my phone.
Rosie turned the screen towards me. “You mean your rage music for the gym? What's all this angry rock and EDM?” she asked, the words with so much disgust I almost apologized. But then again, that music helped me lift more and run faster.
Or at least it used to.
“It's called being motivated,” I rolled my eyes, half annoyed, half entertained as she kept scrolling on my phone. “What's wrong with that?”
“Nothing, it's just predictable,” she scoffed.
“All right, Thorn, what do you listen to while doing sprints? Chopin?
Rosie huffed out a laugh. “I'm impressed you know who that is. But relax, all I did was add you to my acoustic covers. All mainstream songs that you know and love, but acoustic covers.You'll love it, just give it a try. Or don't whatever you want,” she shrugged, her cheeks turning pink. “And I'm stealing your coffee. You really don't need anything to get your heart rate any higher.”
I glanced at her, watching in awe as she picked up my cup, smelled it, and took a sip. She did her best to hide her frown as she swallowed.
“It's not oat milk and definitely not Chai.”
“You really need to have better taste in coffee. Who the hell drinks a black americano? No milk, no sugar. Are you trying to kill yourself?” She shook her head, placing the cup back on the table. “Give me a moment.”
She stood before I could get a word in and with swaying hips she skipped to the counter where with a beautiful smile on her lips she ordered. My eyes roamed her body, the baby pink set molding onto her ass and legs, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her workout outfits were the sexiest things I've ever seen on anyone. They fit her well, and her ass looked great. I watched some skin appear between her top and leggings as she reached over the counter to take the cups and a paper bag, before she turned and danced back to me.
For someone who claimed pink wasn’t her favorite color, she sure loved wearing it.
Her energy filled me up with strange calmness, and I even forgot about my earlier panic.
“I'm back,” she announced sitting back on the armrest next to me and her flowery scent surrounded me and I wondered how I didn't pick up on it sooner.
“What's in the bag?” I asked as I eyed the coffee she placed in front of me. “And what did you get me?”
“You got a decaf flat white. Whole milk, but very little. No sugar, don't worry,” she teased with a small smile as she ripped the paper bag open. “This is going to be your sugar.”
“Pain au chocolat?” I laughed, remembering her obsessionwith those.
