Hot chocolate.I guess that’s what’s next.
Chapter8
Lola
He offers me a third cup of hot chocolate as soon as I finish the second cup.I blink and laugh.“Dude, I will need insulin if I have another cup.But thank you.”
Theo flashes me a sheepish smile.“I’m sorry.I don’t actually want another cup either, I just…”
“Not used to having a woman in your home, you have to talk to?”I can’t help but ask.I’m hoping being blunt and cheeky will loosen the weird tension that’s still floating between us.I don’t know if it’s because we don’t really know each other, or if it’s because he thinks I’m as attractive as I think he is.Because damn, Theo Richard isreallyattractive.
We’ve been drinking hot chocolate and making polite conversation for almost two hours.He’s being the most gentlemanly gentleman ever, but it’s clear he’s a fish out of water.“I… no.I just…” Theo pulls his lips into his mouth for a second and then blurts out, “I’m usually drunk when I’m alone with a woman in my house.”
“And you don’t do that anymore?At all?”
“Drink?”He stands up and takes our empty mugs to the kitchen.“No.Sober since I fell off a roof and almost died.”
“And outed my brother.”I hate myself as soon as I say it.His shoulders sag, and his dark eyes avoid mine as he concentrates way harder than he needs to, cleaning up the small mess from the hot chocolate in the kitchen.“I’m sorry.That was bitchy.”
“It was,” Theo replies without hesitation.“And I believe I was promised boring, not bitchy.”
I smile.“True.I’m a liar.Sorry.If Landon has forgiven you, then it’s not my place not to.And… I mean, the more I see you, the more I realize you really aren’t a guy who would do that sober.”
“I’m really not.”He puts the dishes in the dishwasher and leans against the counter, staring at me in the living room.“I’m not an asshole who outs people, but like… I don’t know who I am… as a sober hockey player.Never been one until recently… and I’m not very good at it at the moment.”
The Riptide were on a four-game losing streak.I didn’t go out of my way to watch hockey, ever, but living with Callan, it’s hard not to notice since his entire personality hinges on how games go.“Oh, so sober Theo is an egomaniac who thinks he’s the reason the whole team isn’t winning?”
“Jesus, you’re a blunt little thing, aren’t you?”He laughs.I shrug.“I’m not taking on the blame for anyone but me.I’m still trying to figure out my new role on this team, and it hasn't been the smoothest transition.I’ve been on the ice for the last seven of the ten goals scored against us.And my shot blocking needs work.I just can’t seem to get in the right place at the right time like I used to.And I’m spending way too much time avoiding a fight.”
“Overthinking it?”I suggest as he starts opening cabinets and the fridge.“Did you use to play drunk?”
He sighs and scrubs a hand over his very pretty face.“I mean, I would have probably passed a breathalyzer, but it was in my system.It wasalwaysin my system.”
“Alcohol brings down your inhibitions.It loosens you up.You don’t overthink things when buzzed or drunk,” I say and shift on the couch, which is ridiculously comfy and luxurious.I glance toward the window, and somehow the snow is falling even harder.Thank God the couch is comfortable because it’s likely my bed.“So you have to learn to just shut off your brain without booze.Stop thinking and concentrate on your instincts.You have incredible hockey instincts.They’re what drove your play before you drank, so you just have to let them take over again.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Yeah, it’s like a muscle, you need to exercise it.Practice,” I tell him as he starts pulling stuff out of the fridge.“You should talk to my dad.He had to push through PTSD, if you know about his career.”
“Everybody knows about your dad’s career,” Theo says.“He’s a legend.One of the best goalies ever to lace his skates.”
My dad was a goalie who had his throat sliced by a skate and almost lost his life, let alone his career, before he even made the NHL.His comeback story brought him a Cup and my mom.Theo saunters into the living room, and I try not to stare at him.Not that it matters, but if I gave the universe a wish list of physical features that I want in a dude, it would’ve created Theo for me.Eyes like pools of black coffee, smile warmer than that coffee.Such thick, dark hair begging to be tugged while his beard tickles my thighs.Wide frame, muscled, fairly tall, with a smile that says he knows how to teaseandhow to please.
He’s looking at me expectantly, and I realize he said something.“What?”
“I said, is this weird?”He points to the tray he placed on the coffee table in front of me.It’s filled with meats, cheeses, and some grapes.“Charcuterie without wine to go with it?All I have is apple juice, cranberry juice, coffee, tea, water, and Gatorade.”
“I’ll take apple juice.In a wine glass, if you’ve got one,” I reply.“We can have the vibe without the alcohol.”
He laughs.“Yeah, the place came with wine glasses.”
He heads back into the kitchen, and I grab a wedge of brie.Or maybe it’s camembert.I don’t know the difference.I used to be vegan.I was doing it for health reasons, not for ethical ones.I read a study back in high school that said vegan women had less trouble with endometriosis and had lighter periods.But that didn’t work for me, clearly, so now I’m an octo-lacto vegetarian.Indulging in cheese is still a new pleasure, so I close my eyes and revel in its creaminess and deliciousness.And I realize I’m starving.When he enters the living room, he’s holding two wine glasses with apple juice in them.I brush his fingers when I take mine, and something in my belly flutters.“You think me getting out of my head and playing sober is the same as your dad getting past his PTSD?”
“I think it could be similar.It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him,” I sip the apple juice and watch as he pops a piece of cheddar into his mouth.“Worth a shot.And my dad is really easy to talk to.He’s a fantastic person.”
“My dad is too,” Theo replies with a soft smile I haven’t seen from him before.Not that I’m taking inventory of his smiles… but I kind of am.“And my mom… she’s like a literal angel on earth.She’s been through hell, too.Even before me.Her childhood was rough, and she’s the opposite of rough.”
“My mom is a firecracker.She’s all softness and light, but she would for real fight a bear for anyone she loved.Barehanded.And win,” I say proudly.
