“Who’s lonely?” Mateo says, rounding out our group.
“Oh, thank God.” Isa launches herself into his arms, and he catches her without missing a beat.
They all leave quickly, giving me my first moment alone with Daisy in what feels like an eternity.
“Hi, you.” Her nose nudges mine.
“Hi, love.” I nudge back.
She hums, her eyes closing as she smiles. “Ready to test out that bathtub?”
“Already had your shampoos and lotions couriered over to your place. Let’s get out of here.”
thirty-six
Sleeping in a bedwithout Luke is highly overrated.
He’s been gone for a day and I’m already dreading the fact that I’ll have to sleep alone for another night before he flies back from Miami with the team.
After we came home two nights ago, he made it his personal mission to christen every surface of my new apartment before ending the night cleaning up and getting dirty all over again in the shower. The blush that overtook my face when I had to Windex the imprint of my ass cheeks off the living room window this morning could probably be seen from Mars.
But today is Sunday, and I have a full day planned with furniture shopping for my new place. After I was able to peel myself off Luke, we took a tour of my new home. Inspiration hit immediately, and I told him my dream vision.
He laughed when I said I needed a massive couch meant for movie nights with my six-four boyfriend, and scowled playfullywhen I mentioned wanting a dining table large enough to seat a handful of Monarchs players and their significant others. He also chuckled when I described every single kitchen gadget I’d need before inviting Luisa’s family over.
His smile turned serene when I decided I wanted to cover the large wall by my front door in corkboard material so I can pin up Polaroids of the friends and family who come through my door. A permanent reminder that this space is mine and it’s filled with an abundance of love.
I know I won’t be able to get through most of my to-do list today, but I’m so excited to have something to focus on that doesn’t involve the men who are hell-bent on causing me constant headaches.
I should be on cloud nine after landing my dream apartment, a place I can finally call my own, but I can’t help but feel like I’m playing the waiting game. Anticipating the moment the other shoe drops.
The girls and I came up with a statement that I can put out today, but it doesn’t feel right. To put these practiced words about my disaster of a personal life out there. Unlike my brother, I did not seek out a powerful position that would inevitably put me in the spotlight. I’ve always known that I’d be mentioned in the bylines due to my role as his sister and as a Stonehaven. But then I had to go and date a New York politician and really screw up any chance of keeping myself out of the line of fire.
My doorbell rings, snapping me out of my thoughts. My heart races at who it could be. I only have one neighbor on my floor, and I haven’t heard a peep from them since I got here. And besides Luke, I haven’t given out my address. Not even to the girls since we were knee-deep in cake and public statement jargon.
For a moment, I panic, thinking it might be Damien on the other side of that door. I’m not ready to face him, much lesswhile being alone in my apartment, and especially not when Luke’s at an away game.
I know Luke’s trauma and potential triggers, and while it’ll be a cold day in hell before I agree to meet up with my ex in person, I would still want Luke to be aware if there’s a chance of our paths crossing at a charity event or party. I never want him to feel like I’m sneaking around behind his back. I know firsthand how easy it is to fall prey to our biggest fears, and I want to do everything in my power not to contribute to any potential fears he may have.
The doorbell rings once more, and I tiptoe to the door, silently raising to the peephole, and spot a delivery man holding up a large envelope. Maybe it’s papers from my realtor?
I open the door, sign for the package, and lean against the kitchen counter as I rip it open. The second I do, my phone starts to ring. Seeing Luke’s smiling face stare up at me has me dropping the package and scrambling to answer.
“Hi,” I say breathily as his piercing blue eyes come into view.
“God, I miss you. Tell me again why I’m not allowed to quit?” He sits on his hotel bed, and my eyes drift down his bare and tatted chest.
I shake my head. “You know, I never figured you were one for the theatrics, Coach.”
“Fine. Then you’re traveling with me to every away game. It’s settled.”
“I don’t like to fly often if I can avoid it.”
“Why?”
“I hate turbulence.”
“I’ll punch the air for you.”
