“Old enough to have been born in the 1900s.” I grimace.
She feigns a look of shock. “Wow! Did you ride in a horse and buggy growing up? What was it like without electricity?”
I glare at her. “Can you even buy alcohol?”
She laughs. “You’re funny.”
“For an old man,” I mutter under my breath.
“Well, Boomer, I got to go catch my bus,” she says. I glare at her and she grins. I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, wrong generation, smartass, and I can drive you home,” I offer as I stand.
“No, really, it’s OK, Hutch,” she protests while also standing and slinging that giant backpack over her shoulder.
“Actually, do you have class tonight?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, I was just going to start working on my paper rough draft.”
I put an arm over her shoulder and steer her toward the apartment building. I’m not even thinking about finding the flower person; I’m just thinking about how I can spend more time with Jocelyn. She makes me happy, and right now, I need to feel happier.
“I was going to order pizza and watch a movie. You in?” I ask.
“Depends on what movie and which restaurant,” she says.
“Donato’s and you can pick the movie,” I offer.
She gives me an evil grin. “Careful what you wish for.”
“Can we at least get pepperoni pizza?” I say as I hold open the door for her.
“I suppose I can live with that,” she says as she walks up the stairs, and I follow her, trying not to stare at her luscious ass swaying in front of me.
I never thought I’d like rom-coms, but for some reason, Jocelyn is starting to convert me. Tonight, we watched No Reservations. I told her it reminds me a bit of Cam and Fletcher, and then we had a whole breakdown of how those two got together.
Now, we’re eating rocky road ice cream out of a carton and watching Notting Hill.
“I never understood how they made it work. I mean, being famous has to be hard, right?” she says as she looks at me.
I shrug. “It wasn’t that hard.”
She turns on my sofa and looks at me. “What was it like?”
“You’re as bad as Ava,” I groan.
She pokes me in the belly. “Seriously? Did you, like, date supermodels and go to parties with famous people?”
I start laughing. “Hell no. I mean, I went to a few parties with a few famous people. And I guess if you count my teammates as famous people, then yeah, I saw famous people every day. But it’s not like that. We’re just normal people that are…I mean, we're lucky enough to play our favorite sport as a career. My life wasn’t that crazy. I did have a big house and some nice cars, but mostly, I went to practice or games and then came home and played video games or watched television. I was typically a homebody.”
She rolls her eyes. “You are a boring celebrity.”
I glare at her and cross my arms. Her gaze darts to my biceps, and I grin. Girls love my biceps, and secretly, I’m pleased that Jocelyn is also affected by them.
“And what would you do if you were famous?” I ask.
She rubs her hands together as if she’s been preparing for this question her whole life. “OK, first, I’d go to one of those hot clubs that has a long line to get in, and I’d just walk right in and go to the VIP section and dance all night and get free expensive champagne. And then, I’d go to a movie premiere so I could walk the red carpet and probably end up at some Hollywood party after. And I’d definitely drunk-hookup with one of my celebrity crushes. And then, I’d do a bunch of sponsored ad stuff on my social media to get free stuff. Oh, and I’d make friends with celebrities with houses in cool places and then go stay with them or stay on their yachts or some shit,” she says excitedly.
I laugh. “Uh, OK, then.”
