“Me either,” echoes Buchanan.
“Nope,” Allerick adds.
“Is there any of that pink Moscato left?” my girlfriend verbally wonders, voice noticeably cracking. “Maybe um…some white?”
“I can check for ya, Gillybean,” I volunteer and prepare to stand only for her to beat me to it. “You know I don’t mind.”
“No, it’s fine,” she rushes to insist before bolting out of the space. “I’ve got it.”
You know as much as I love my Slayer’s ass, I don’t particularly love when it’s rushing away from me like I saved the puck and now she’s on an unanticipated breakaway.
Sound doesn’t manage to escape Lionel’s mouth courtesy of Kira suggesting, “You might wanna help her with the bottle, Groff. She’s not great with corks.”
I graciously nod in appreciation of the segue prior to politely offering my hands up in dismal, “Y’all please excuse me.”
No more than two steps out of proposed earshot, I hear a heavy huff of disapproval from the host who I’m sure isn’t loving the turn the event has taken.
But like…it ain’t my fault.
I didn’t do anything wrong.
I’ve been polite.
I’ve been gentlemanly.
Attentive.
Maybe a littleoverlyattentive when Buchanan’s eyes were lingering a little too long on my Slayer’s legs in her cowgirl boots, but I mean it’s hard to blame him for that one.
Between the boho, sleeveless, cream-colored dress she’s sporting and those leather treats, there’s a reason we didn’t make it into the house right away.
Pretty sure if it weren’t for the fact we had to drop Bronny at Sergio’s for the night, we might not have made it out of our house at all.
The thought to check on him nearly slows my stride – something great happened to him at school that he didn’t get to finish telling me about ‘cause my agent called about a sponsorship opportunity – however, the sight of Gilly growing increasingly flustered while fighting with the wine opener has me staying focused on the period at hand.
This stretch now.
Reviewing missed footage later.
Once I arrive at her side in the Mediterranean style open kitchen, I simply linger in silence, thumbs hooked in my suit pants pockets, anxious for something to cling onto.
I’d choose her – hell, I’d always choose her – yet now doesn’t seem right.
Shefeelslike she needs space.
And space is something I may not like but definitely can provide.
Her bottle battle continues for a couple minutes more with the noises decreasing in increments and increasing in intensity before I cautiously ask, “Want some help?”
Gilly’s mouth lowers to answer only to release a hiccup instead.
“There’s nothin’ wrong with wantin’ help even when you’re pissed at me, Gillybean,” I quietly retort prior to transferring the object into my possession. “But truth be told, Idonowhyyou’re pissed at me.” Putting the glass item on the granite island countertop occurs next. “I don’t even knowwhatthe penalty could’ve possibly been.”
“They didn’t need to know that you play hockey,” she hisses in a hushed tone I barely hear around my successful uncorking.
“What was I supposed to do?” I toss the opener to the side and maintain the quieter established volume. “Lie?”
“Just…think!” Gilly unhappily plants her open palm on the counter. “Think before you act! Think before you just say whatever comes to mind, Thayne! How you answer has real fucking consequences. Especially here!Béchir literally works out at the same gym as my brother. Lionel and Kira’s daughter have music classes on the same day, in the same building as my nephew meaning they could run into Mari-”
