Pity made Phil forget what a lightweight Breezy was.By the time Ben and Charlie got home, he’d curled up on the couch under the crochet throw blanket, watching the Lifetime channel and nodding along as a woman with curly blonde hair found love with a simple Italian farmer and ditched her high-powered Wall Street boyfriend.
“He was having a crisis,” Phil explained.
They switched him to hot chocolate, and Charlie and Ben managed to last through the entire movie.Phil gave up when the Italian love interest taught the girl how to ride a horse bareback.He started surreptitiously texting Tom, asking about how Howie was doing and whether being benched for a game had improved his backcheck or destroyed it for good.
“I’m sure we can get rid of him in time tomorrow morning,” Phil told Ben as they got ready for bed.Breezy had fallen asleep on the couch, and Phil hadn’t the heart to wake him up and stick him in an Uber when he dozed off in the middle of his second cocoa.
Morning came, and with it the sound of someone unfamiliar moving around the house.Phil had a sudden blinding sense memory of the first week Ben lived with him, the scraping noise from the bathroom and the sudden appearance of a chair in front of the vanity so he could shave for the first time in a week.They really ought to move that downstairs again.
He remembered lying in bed and thinking how glad he was to have someone sharing his space again.
He rolled over and buried his nose in Ben’s hair.“Happy wedding day.”
“Do I need to keep my eyes closed?”Ben teased.His voice sounded deep, rough with sleep, and the sound of it sent a zing down Phil’s spine.“You know, bad luck and all.”
“I think we’ll be okay,” Phil said.“I wanna see you properly.”
Ben’s eyes blinked open, slow and sleepy.He wasn’t smiling yet, but Phil could see the crow’s feet waiting to form.He leaned in and kissed Ben until they were both grinning too hard to keep it up.
“Happy wedding day,” Ben said.
“So what’s my present?”Phil asked.
Ben stuck out his tongue.
Downstairs, a glass shattered.
They looked at each other.
“Breezy,” Phil remembered.
“He’s your teammate.”
“You’re his coach.”
Ben put a finger to his nose.
“Ugh.Fine.”Phil rolled out of bed and pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt from the floor.It turned out to be one of Ben’s, tight across the chest and loose everywhere else.It showed the earth and the moon holding hands as they spun in circles.
Phil liked it.
“Breezy?”he called as he navigated the stairs.He still had to take it slow with his knee, even with the rope banisters and no crutches.He couldn’t afford to slip and fuck it up again.
“Good morning, Philip.”
That was not Breezy.The voice rang out low and elegant, the voice of a person accustomed to giving interviews and appearing on camera.It was also unmistakably a woman’s voice.
“Camille?”Phil asked.“What are you doing here?”
Chapter Eighteen
Spotted around town: Camille Easton landed in LAX last night.Photos show her in a camel-colored jacket from Burberry’s spring collection.Last we knew, she was headed for the runways in Paris and Milan after quietly divorcing Phil Easton of the San Francisco Sea Lions.What brings her back to the States?Is it something (or someone) in the City of Angels?Or is she aiming to reconnect with her ex-hubby just in time for Valentine’s Day?
Top comments:
phileastonfanclub: She’s so glamorous!NGL, I hope they get back together.
sealions4lyfe: Not like Easton’s doing anything else with his time but lying around.He might as well have some drama.
