“Mmm hmm. Well, they do seem to have a strong fanbase. I’ve gained almost four hundred new followers overnight,” Angela says and finishes her champagne.
“Angie is one of those WAGs who embraces the attention,” Landon says quietly.
“WAG makes us sound like dogs,” Angie whines. “Is it so hard to say wife or girlfriend?”
She isn’t smiling, but she isn’t frowning either. She puts down her empty glass and points to the one the attendant filled for Landon. “You’re not drinking that, right?”
He shakes his head, so she lifts the glass off the table. “Cheers to new beginnings, I guess.”
She tips the glass toward me, so I grab my flute off the small table in front of me and lean forward to clink it to hers. “To coming home.”
“Right!” She nods and takes a long, big sip. After she swallows, she continues. “You’re a hometown boy. Why don’t you live at home then? Not that I mind you in the cottage with us. It’s big enough and we love us some Grady, don’t we, Landon?”
“We do love us some Grady,” Landon says and gives me a smirk. He lowers his voice, but he’s loud enough that Angela can still hear him. “Someone is getting tipsy.”
She swats at him but takes another long gulp. I chuckle and take a sip. I’m not actually a fan of champagne. I only drink it if it’s out of a Cup named Stanley. I put down my glass. “Silver Bay is two hours inland from Portland, so the commute would be hell. Besides, I don’t actually have my own place there. I still squat at my parents’, or one of my cousins places when I go home. In the summers, I rent Air BnBs.”
She looks positively gobsmacked at that fact. “You don’t have your own house? How old are you?”
“Angie, that sounds bitchy,” Landon warns.
She lifts a hand to her open mouth and her cheeks pinken. “Shit. I’m sorry. I don’t mean it that way. I moved out at eighteen, so I’m just… It’s shocking to me. Sorry.”
I shrug. “Not offended. I guess I figured I would get my own place when I retire. Silver Bay feels more like a vacation spot than home right now, and I want to be settled when I finally put down roots there. If I put down roots there.”
“You’re gonna need roots somewhere eventually,” Angela advises as the plane starts to move down the tarmac to the runway. “I mean, when you finally settle down and get married and stuff. Your wife will want a home.”
“Or three,” Landon mutters under his breath, the light gone from his eyes. I pretend not to notice. Angela finishes the second flute of champagne as the front of the plane lifts into the air. My ears start to pop. “So how old are you again?”
“Twenty-Nine.”
“So you’re like midway through your career?”
“As a goalie, I think I can honestly say I’m on the back end.” I hate saying it aloud, but it’s probably true. My hips are stiffer and stiffer each year. I had a hot season last season, but there are no guarantees it’ll ever happen again. I think, if I’m lucky, I’ll make it to thirty-three in this league.
“And you’re still single? All this time?” Angela looks stunned again.
I nod, but before I can pull from my Rolodex of excuses, Landon speaks. “There are a ton of people who don’t meet their soulmates in their twenties. Your sister Julie is still single at thirty-three.”
“Not by choice!” Angela says and then… oh fuck…. Her eyes flare. “What’s your type, Grady? Do you like older women? Please do not be one of those pervs who date the nineteen-year-old puck bunnies. And by date, I mean fuck.”
Landon groans. “Angie, you’re being invasive. And FYI, I have never seen Grady with a puck bunny, of any age.”
“Are you going to drink the rest of that?” Angie asks, pointing to my drink. I shake my head. She hesitates but takes it. “I should probably make you drink this so you’ll open up. But… I need it.”
She takes a big sip. “So, what’s your type?”
“Likes to laugh, doesn’t take life too seriously,” I find myself saying. “But I have a strong sense of self and confidence because my family is a lot to handle. I’ve been told I can be a lot to handle, too.”
Landon’s eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at me. “By who?”
I smile. “I have had relationships, Landon. Just not any since I joined the Quake.”
“Build your perfect physical specimen,” Angela demands and waves a hand at me. “Be superficial, I won’t judge.”
Another question which would be easy if I was allowed to be honest, but I’m not. Luckily, I’m used to thinking quickly. “On the taller side because I’m?—”
“A fucking giant,” Landon interjects, and I flip him a quick middle finger, which makes him laugh.
