I couldn’t help but smile at the way her eyes lit up.
“I take it you are good at it? The whole rebuilding thing?”
“One of the best. I graduated at the top of my class.”
“I guess you must be, otherwise your father never would have brought you in.”
“My father cares about people, about his team. May not seem like it sometimes, especially the way he carries on, but the whole Marcus Grant situation changed him too. He had just signed on as head coach for the Dragons the year that happened.”
We both fell into a comfortable silence, sipping our coffees, watching out the window as people walked by, some in a hurry to get where they were going, others just taking their time.
“Okay. I have an important question,” Bianca said suddenly. “What’s your secret coffee order? The one you’d never admit to anyone, even your teammates?”
I chuckled. “What makes you think I have one?”
“Because everyone has one.”
I couldn’t help but feel heat creep up the back of my neck because she was right; I had one.
“Come on, Callahan, confess.”
“I’m trusting you with this information, so if someone finds out, I’m coming after you. Sometimes, and only sometimes, I get a vanilla latte with extra vanilla.”
Bianca smiled and then let out a giggle. “I knew it. I knew you seemed like a secret vanilla latte guy.”
“Okay, if we are sharing shameful coffee secrets, what’s yours?”
“Pumpkin spice, extra whipped cream with loads of cinnamon on top.”
“Oh my god. Seriously? You’re a stereotype.”
She shrugged, then smiled. “Pumpkin Spice Lattes are delicious, and you have zero room to judge, vanilla boy.”
“Oh, is that so?” I said, winking.
Bianca laughed again, her smile almost contagious.
This was the most relaxed I’d felt since before the injury at the end of last season. For the first time, I wasn’t worried about the coaching staff or my teammates walking on eggshells around me. This was just coffee and conversation with someone who was feeling like less of a threat and more like…what? A friend? Or could there be something more between us?
“Can I ask you a question?” Bianca asked, her tone of voice shifting from playful to serious.
“Shoot.”
“Why did you seem so angry when I moved in? Please don’t say you weren’t, because we both know that wouldn’t be true.”
“It had nothing to do with you,” I said, tracing the rim of my cup as I chose my words carefully. “It’s a story for another time, but I am sorry for making you feel unwelcome and for being so defensive and angry. You didn’t deserve that.”
“No, I didn’t, but I get it. Having someone in your space, especially given that I’m the daughter of the coach, you were probably worried I’d report back to him on your every move.”
“Whoa, for the record, I didn’t think of you as a spy,” I said.
“I think at first you did. It is human nature. I’d have felt the same way.”
“Okay, fine, but I don’t feel that way anymore,” I said, giving her a smile.
“Good.” She smiled as she took the last bite of her muffin. “So what now? Do we just try to be roommates who don’t hate one another?”
I drained the last of my coffee and shrugged. “Perhaps roommates who like each other? Eventually. Actually, I have an idea. If you are free tonight, that is.”
