Nash
When I get back from yoga she’s sitting at my kitchen island with a coffee mug in her hand. Fully clothed, thankfully. She’s in loose jeans and a frilly tank top. She’s wearing a bunch of bracelets and some dangly earrings are peeking out from her hair, which is loose and straight. “Hey.”
"Hey," I say and immediately clear my throat. I move my eyes to everything but her. The kitchen counter, the wall, the couch as I tuck my rolled-up yoga mat under it.
“You finally knock one out and get some sleep?”
In typical Tenley fashion, she refuses to keep her mouth shut or be subtle. I try to act like I'm not embarrassed as all hell about everything that went on last night. "Yep. Although it took me a minute to fall asleep after. There was this weird noise in the house."
“Really?”
I steal a glance at her and she’s blinking in fake innocence but there’s a devious smile on her lips, which she’s trying to hide with the coffee cup. “Yeah, sounded like someone was strangling a goat.”
She jumps off her seat, horrified, and I turn my back to her and focus on starting my own coffee. It also means she can’t see the shit-eating grin on my face. “What the hell! I did not sound like a goat!”
"I grew up near a farm in Nova Scotia," I say as I press some ground coffee into the portafilter. It's hazelnut Tim Hortons blend. I bring a full suitcase back with me from Canada every summer. "When goats mate they make that exact same sound you did. Did you have someone sneak in because that's not allowed? Rule number six."
“No one was here. I was… never mind. Jerk.” She slams down her coffee mug and stomps off into my office-slash-her room.
“Make sure it doesn’t look like you’re sleeping… or making goat sounds in there.”
“Shut! Up!” she barks and I finally let my laughter loose.
I’m still laughing when she stomps back in, carrying an almost see-through nightie and a fistful of bras and panties. That gets my laughter to taper off. “What are you doing?”
“Putting this upstairs. So it looks like we share a room,” she announces like it’s no big deal.
And then she walks across the living room and starts up the stairs. “Wait! You can’t just put your crap with mine! I told you no touching my shit!”
I take a step to follow but the gentle hum of the espresso pouring into my cup halts me. If I chase after her, this will overflow. I turn it off and bolt for the stairs. But I'm too late. She's in my bedroom and has the top drawer of my only dresser opened. I skid to a halt, almost falling on my ass as my socks fight for a grip on the wood. She has her head tipped down into the drawer and I know she sees it.
“Get out of my drawers.”
My voice is hard and deep. She immediately shuts the drawer with a slam, turns around, and dumps her undies and bra on the bed.
“You pick where these go.”
She isn't making eye contact as she walks around my king-platform bed and drops her see-through nightie on the pillow. Without another word, she goes back downstairs. I close my eyes wishing this was a bad dream I could wake up from. I’m not going to last the entire playoffs with her. I just won’t.
An hour and a half later, I’ve buzzed in the documentary crew and am holding the apartment door open for them. Tenley is leaning on the concrete wall in the hall with a bright smile on her face. “Hey everyone!”
One of the women in the crew hugs her. “I’m so glad to have you in charge again.”
“Happy to do it obviously.” Tenley smiles at her. “You can store stuff in the office when you don’t need it.”
The woman hooks a left into the office. Tenley’s put the couch back to a couch and the sheets and pillows I gave her are nowhere to be found. It looks like my office and nothing more. The small crew of four people start unloading their gear. I grit my teeth and say a silent prayer nobody bumps a trophy or knocks something over. Tenley turns to me.
“Hubster, this is Lizzie, the sound engineer,” she says, and Lizzie waves at me. “That is Jorge. He’s our cameraman, and that is Frank, the lighting guru, and Rhett, our jack of all trades.”
“Otherwise known as the PA,” Rhett says and smiles broadly. He knocks Tenley’s shoulder with his own. “Girlfriend you did good. Congrats on the wedding, by the way. Wish you’d told us yourself.”
“It was all so sudden.” Tenley laughs. “Nash just couldn’t wait. He’s very impatient. When he wants something he just goes for it. Never thinks anything through. I love that about him.”
I want to glare at her so badly but I mange not to. Instead I just smile and nod. “I’ll let you guys set up. But word of warning, careful in here. Tenley is really uptight about our place. She hates clutter and would die if something got knocked over or broken. She’s obsessed with my accomplishments as much as she is with me.”
“Oh yeah. I care the exact same about both!” Tenley winks and blows me a kiss.
I pretend to catch it but as I leave the room I also pretend to drop it and kick it. In the kitchen, I glance at the clock on the microwave. My pre-game nap needs to start in two hours and I don’t want them filming that. They won’t film me sleeping, will they? I am suddenly slightly panicked. I hate this so much. I should be in my office looking at old videos of Seattle’s power plays this season. Trying to figure out how to make them less of a threat. They beat us on a power play goal last game and I really want to win this one, the third game in the series and the first at home in our arena.
