“Yep, and she’ll report it to her dad. Not going to happen,” I said, shaking my head.
“She has to abide by patient confidentiality, which she takes seriously. Plus, it’s her job, and because I think she cares about you. She’d help because she wants you healthy.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll do more than think about it, because we don’t want to watch you destroy your career because you’re too stubborn to ask for help. Got it,” Logan said firmly.
I looked at all three of them. “Got it.”
“Good, now let’s eat. Oh, and how about we try to be nice to Bianca. You know, get to know her, maybe spend some time with her aside from when you’re being an ass at the rink?” Logan chuckled.
“Yeah, take her out for breakfast or dinner, try to get to know her. You know, maybe even take her on a date like a normal person,” Cromwell added.
“All of you are terrible friends.” I laughed.
“Terrible best friends, and you know it.” Cromwell laughed.
Chapter 7
Evan
I still couldn’t getlast night’s conversation out of my mind. When I woke up this morning, I’d taken a hot shower, and now I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, dressed, teeth brushed, and cologne on, hoping it wouldn’t be too much of a shock when I attempted to be nice to Bianca.
I stood outside her bedroom door, which was brave or stupid, I hadn’t determined which one, and knocked.
“Yeah?” I heard her call.
I swallowed hard and cleared my throat. I felt warm. Was I sweating?
“What?” I heard her yell.
“Ah, just wanted to let you know that I’m going to go out and grab a coffee. I thought you might like to join me. No pressure, though.”
When she said nothing, I backed away from her door and went to put my shoes on when her door opened. I turned and looked over my shoulder to see her standing there in leggingsand an oversized Boston State University sweatshirt, her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun.
“Coffee?”
“Yeah, I mean, we’re living together for the next however many months, and I have been kind of a dick, so…thought we could try for a fresh start or whatever you’d like to call it.”
Bianca stood there, looking at me, probably trying to figure out if I meant the invite or not.
“Can you give me five minutes?” she finally asked.
“Sure,” I said, shoving my hands into my pockets.
I was sitting in the living room thumbing through my hockey magazine when Bianca appeared. She’d switched out her sweatshirt for a T-shirt and a denim jacket and wore a pair of white sneakers.
“Ready.”
I stood up, making my way to the door.
“We’ll walk. The coffee shop is only ten minutes from here,” I said, opening the door, stepping aside to allow her to go first.
It was a warm morning for late September. The moment we left the building, I turned left, leading the way, while Bianca walked behind me. We walked in silence, finally coming up to the coffee shop that was tucked between my favorite Thai restaurant and a dry cleaner.
“So, I don’t want to appear ungrateful, but what prompted this olive branch?” Bianca questioned as we stepped inside. “Did my father threaten you?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It didn’t surprise me she’d think that.
