“Sorry, jelly beans.” Finn is all business. “The podcast edited your segment, and it went live at midnight after I approved it. I emailed both of you a copy, and Mr. Dimon also gave it the green light. Don’t go anywhere yet. Mr. Dimon thinks it’s in the team’s best interest if you don’t attend practice. He’s calling Coach.”
“No practice,” Theo repeats. “For everyone or for us?” He can’t wrap his head around being excused from practice.
“Just my sweet jelly beans who, oopsie, forgot to give me a heads-up about their relationship,” he drones sarcastically.
“Sorry, Finn,” I say earnestly, and he sighs.
“You guys sounded great on the podcast and looked good on the video. There are always haters, but I think it’s going to be fine.”
“Are you saying that to make us feel better?” Theo switches from tracing the back of my hand to linking our fingers together.
“I don’t get paid to make you feel good. I get paid to get results and spin crap so it flies off into space,” Finn says indignantly.
“A true hero,” Theo says. Ordinarily, I’d assume he’s being sarcastic, but he sounds sincere and rests his head on mine.
“Stay put, don’t go near the windows, and try banging all day. I’ll call only if Coach demands you attend practice.”
The line goes dead, and we stare at the phone.
“That just happened.” Theo lies back and drags me on top of him. “I used to think my life would be over if I couldn’t play hockey.” He lets that truth bomb sit, and it occurs to me he’s still afraid.
“That won’t happen. Mr. Dimon isn’t ditching either of us. We’re fine,” I say, and he frowns.
“I’d be okay without hockey but not…” He lets the words hang, and my heart swells with optimism that I’m the end of his sentence and I’m not alone in my feelings.
Unfortunately, my phone beeps with a text from my mom.
Mom: I made waffles. We’ve also got cereal, cornbread, and eggs. I can get groceries on the way home. Dad and I are leaving for work
Me: We’re awake
Me: You don’t have to avoid us
Mom: We’re giving you privacy. We’ll be home around six. Be dressed
Me:*screaming face emoji*
Mom:*heart emoji*
“What?” Theo asks when I sigh loudly.
“Mom wants us to be dressed when they get home from work at six.” I wave my hands dramatically.
“We can set an alarm for that,” he jokes, and I slap his chest.
“She made waffles.” I yawn and have no desire to leave his warm body.
“Like she toasted us waffles?” Theo’s brow scrunches in confusion.
“No, she made batter and cooked them in the waffle iron. They’re probably in the oven on warm, so no need to jump out of bed.” I throw my leg over him to keep him next to me. “But she doesn’t do that for me. It’s because you’re here.”
Theo’s face shows a thousand emotions before he shudders and changes the subject. “Someone is a secret cuddler.” He yanks off my bonnet to run his fingers along my scalp in between my braids.
“I’ll admit, I like you in my bed.” I trail a finger along his brow.
“It’s like a snow day and we’re off school, except we’re avoiding our world being blown up.”
“Truth.” I rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He strokes my back from my nape to the top of my crease over and over. “We have today in this cocoon. It would be nice to disappear with you for a while.”
