When the last of our small staff finishes with Alex, he makes his way toward me with the brown paper bag in his hand. I want to give him a hug, but not in front of everyone. “Hi,” I say, instead.
“Hey. I’m not bothering you, am I?” he asks in the softest voice. “I brought you lunch, unless you’ve already eaten, in which case I’ve brought you dinner.” For being this big football player, he’s a teddy bear on the inside. It’s like there are two versions of Alex Moore. The person I see and have spent time with, and the person the public sees playing football on the pitch. They’re not one and the same.
“You’re not. I am surprised though.”
Alex grins. “Sometimes it’s better to see people than talk on the phone. Or text.”
He’s right. I’d much rather see him.
“Well, your timing is impeccable. It’s lunchtime and I’m starving.” He doesn’t need to know I brought my lunch with me this morning. But that’s fine, it will keep until tomorrow. “After we eat, I’ll give you a tour,” I tell him as we make our way into one of the conference rooms. Once he enters, I shut and lock the door, giving us as much privacy as possible. The last thing I want is one of my sports-crazed coworkers peeking their heads in with some mundane office stuff, which can clearly wait until Alex leaves.
Alex unpacks the containers and sets everything out. “Are you good with water?”
“I am.”
I sit down next to him and lift the lid. The smell of bacon, cheese, and burgers takes over the room. It’s not my go-to meal but I haven’t had a good greasy burger in a long time. It’s like Alex knew because now I’m craving one.
“I hope this is okay.”
“It’s very okay,” I tell him as I cut the sandwich in half. “I can’t remember the last time I had a burger like this.”
“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “I don’t do the frou-frou shit. Sorry.” He shrugs.
I take a bite. As soon as the flavors touch my tongue, my eyes close. “Damn, this is so good.” Forcing myself to put the burger down, I say, “I don’t do the frou-frou stuff either. It’s too expensive. I mostly watch my portions.”
“Is that why you cut it in half?” he nods toward my meal.
“Yeah. Plus, I don’t need to be in a food coma for the rest of the day.”
Alex laughs. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
We sit in comfortable silence, and we eat the rest of our meal. When I finish, I wipe my hands and mouth and take a drink from the bottled water Alex brought. “I want to apologize for yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” he questions. I think it’s cute how he’s pretending not to remember. Very admirable of him to not embarrass me.
“I had every intention of coming to your game.”
“Oh yeah, that.”
“Truth is, I forgot. I didn’t realize the tickets you sent were for yesterday. Unfortunately, I’m so used to being home and immersed in whatever it is I’m working on that I space on things unless they’re on my calendar. Even then, I have to set multiple alarms to remind me of things I need to do. After the other night, particularly the goodbye kiss, I guess I forgot to put the game in my phone. I can come this Sunday though.”
Alex laughs and I love the sound of his husky voice reverberating through laughter. “We’re away this weekend, but maybe next weekend?”
“Oh, okay.” I don’t know why, but I feel let down.
“You can watch us on television, even though I know you’ve never watched a game in your life.”
“How would I do that?” Gosh, I feel like a boob not knowing the basics of how to watch his game on TV.
Alex reaches for my hand. “If it’s okay with you, I can come by on Friday and download the app for you and show you have to navigate to our game.”
“I feel like—”
“Someone who doesn’t watch sports,” he finishes for me. I’m grateful he interjected before I would have called myself something a lot more derogatory.
“I’d like that.”
Alex finishes his lunch, and then we clean up. “Would you like a tour?”
“I’d love one.” He follows me into our open-plan space. I formally introduce him to everyone and then finish at my workspace. “It’s empty.”
“What are you talking about? I have my laptop, a plant, my phone, and that stack of paper in the corner are the manuscripts or proposals I’ve read.”
“And those books?” Alex asks about the two-tiered shelf under my window.
“Those are the published books I’ve edited. I get a copy from the printer before they send a box to the author or bookstore.”
Alex goes to the shelf, picks one up, and thumbs through it. “This is incredibly cool.”
“Thanks. I like my job.”
“You really must love reading.”
I shrug. “I do, but I love helping create a world where a reader can get lost. Many people use reading as an escape from reality. It’s nice when you can get lost in a book.”
“Do you ever have time to read for pleasure?”
“I do. In between edits, I’ll read. What about you? From everything I’ve learned, you’re busy.”
Alex nods and sets the book back on the shelf. “Once the season is over, I’ll read a memoir or a self-help book.” He turns toward me. “I’ve been thinking. I was wondering if you’d be able to help me write a children’s book.”
“A children’s book?” I ask.
“Yeah. Something I can hand out at charity events or when I visit the children’s hospital. I want to write about football, but from a kid's point of view.”
He wants to write a children’s book. And give it to kids.
“Oh, Alex,” I say as my hand covers my heart. “I’d love to help you.”
The smile I’m beginning to love spreads across his face in elation. “I’m happy you said yes.”
Did he think I’d say no?
There’s a pause, neither of us knowing what to say, until he says, “I should let you get back to work.”
I want to blurt out, “But when will I see you again?” as if we’re starring in some cheesy drama. Instead, I ask, “What are you doing for dinner?”
“No plans,” he tells me.
“Want to have dinner together? You can show me how to watch football. Six, my place?”
“I’ll be there.”
EIGHT
ALEX
For whatever reason, Kelsey makes me nervous. My palms sweat whenever she’s near, and my heart races, like the anticipation of seeing her is going to send me into cardiac arrest. I don’t ever remember feeling this way when I started dating Maggie. She was just . . . there.
Our relationship progressed slowly. At a snail’s pace, according to her. We bought a house together, which we sold when she decided to move to London. Our breakup wasn’t messy. We didn’t fight or say mean things to each other. Our time together ran its course.
Except, she hurt me when she took the job in London. In the same breath, she opened my eyes to how stagnant we were as lovers. While we were good friends who were supportive of each other’s careers and great for each other’s images, our love life was somewhat lacking the excitement both of us craved. We’d friend-zoned ourselves without even realizing it.