Kelsey glances at the closed door behind me and then steps by me, but not before I can take her hand in mine. She glances down at our intertwined fingers and then continues. I get it, it’s her bedroom and I just showed her what she does to me. Doesn’t mean we have to do anything in there because the couch would suffice as well.
She opens the door to a bright and airy room. Everything is white, from her comforter to the curtains, to her metal bed frame. The pop of colors come from those decorative pillows people like to add in the morning, take off at night, and then add in the morning again, to the throw blanket folded at the end of her bed, and the three pieces of vibrant art on her wall.
“Who’s the artist?”
“My grandmother,” she says. “She painted these when I was a little girl and I told her I wanted them for when I had my own place. They were a housewarming gift when I moved into my first apartment.”
“I’m not a big art follower so please don’t take offense, but what are they?”
Kelsey laughs. “No offense taken. They’re abstract,” she tells me. “A bit of nothing and yet everything.”
I stand there, staring at them and can completely understand what she means. The artist left the meaning of the paintings up to whoever looked at them. I turn around and walk toward her, she backs up until she’s on her bed. I put my hands on either side of her and lean down to look into her eyes.
“Thank you for showing me around your apartment.”
“It’s small,” she says quietly.
“But it’s perfect. How about tomorrow, I will take you to my place?”
“I’d like that.”
We head back into the living room, and I go to the bookcases. “Have you read all of these?”
Her eyes widen. “No, not even close. I keep a list on my phone. For every book I’ve read, I end up buying or getting ten. The cycle is endless.”
“It’s kind of like that for us players too,” I tell her. “If they have a new product and they want your endorsement, they’ll send you a sample. If you sign a deal with them, they send you products. Sometimes, they go overboard, but I get it. They want you to always carry their stuff around with you because they’re paying you.”
“Is that why you’re always dressed in Nike?”
I nod. “I have an endorsement deal with them, plus they’re local. The next time I head out to the compound, I’ll take you with me. We can go shopping.”
“Oh, new yoga pants. I like this idea a lot.”
Kelsey and I laugh. “You’re cute, you know that.”
She blushes, the pink in her cheeks turns a lovely shade of red. “I don’t know the last time someone called me cute was.”
“I can use the other words if it helps. Beautiful, gorgeous, stunning.”
“Stunning?” She looks at her clothes. “I’ve never been called stunning before.”
“You are to me.” I go to her and pull her into my arms. “And lovely, sweet, kind. You knock me off my feet.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Everything about you, Kelsey, is a good thing.”
NINE
KELSEY
It’s been two weeks since Alex visited me at work and then came to my apartment, and this weekend will mark the first time I get to see him play in person. And tonight, Alex’s making me dinner.
At. His. House!
I’m not nervous. At least, this has been my mantra all day. Truth is, I’m scared shitless, and I don’t know why. I like Alex and I know he likes me. If he doesn’t . . . well, he has an odd way of not showing it.
We make out like horny teenagers, and I love it. I love every second we’re together. We cuddle on my couch, watch movies together, and he’s there when I’m working on manuscripts at night. We never talked about taking things slow, but it’s exactly what we’re doing, and it’s working, despite my desire growing for him daily. I’ve never felt this connected to someone before.
The rideshare I’m in slows down and I peer out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Alex’s house. Tall, still thick with foliage, the trees block the view of his home from the road. The driver turns and within seconds, everything opens and a white modern farmhouse with black accents looms before us.
“We’re here,” the driver says.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, ma’am. This is the address you gave me.”
My neck cranes, seeking any clue that this is Alex’s place, and then I see his truck. A sigh of relief washes over me as I reach for the door handle. “Thank you.” As soon as I’m out of the car, I conclude the ride on my app, and stand there, staring at the two-story home. “Why on earth does he need a home this big if it’s just him?” I mutter aloud as the car pulls away.
Then it hits me.
Maggie.
They probably bought this home together, and now I feel like I don’t belong. I look behind me, hoping to see the car, but it’s gone. The front door opens and Alex steps out, leaning against one of the pillars on the porch with his ankles crossed.
“Are you going to stand in the driveway or come in?” he asks.
I nod, thinking I am going to stand here. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I feel like I shouldn’t be here, which doesn’t make sense. They’ve broken up, and as far as I know, they don’t talk anymore. Of course, I’ve never asked him and have taken him at his word that things are over, and he’s moved on.
Alex comes toward me and every muscle in my body screams at me to move, but I’m frozen. This feels entirely irrational on my part. He reaches for my hand, and then steps into my space, wrapping his arms around me.
“Are you okay?”
I nod, but the truth is, I’m not.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“It’s stupid. It’s really stupid.”
Alex leans back, keeping me in his embrace, and looks at me. The expression on his face tells me enough to know he’s confused by my statement. “First off, never call yourself stupid. I don’t ever want to hear you put yourself down again. Second, I can tell something’s bothering you. What is it?”
“It’s your house,” I blurt out in the most ridiculous way possible.
He turns to look at his beautiful home and frowns. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, yet my mind is saying it belongs to another woman.”
“Except, it didn’t,” Alex says flatly. “Maggie never lived here. I bought it after she left. We had a house together, but when she decided to take the job in London, we put it on the market and I bought this place. It’s always been just mine.”
“For some reason that doesn’t make me feel any better. Like I said—”
“Don’t call yourself stupid,” he warns. “Would it be better if we went to your place? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“No, I need to get over whatever this is.”
“You sure?”
Nodding, I rest my head on his chest. “I have no idea where this fear is coming from.”
“Me neither,” he says as he rubs his hands up and down my arms. “Come on, I want to give you the tour.”