“How come I get the bigger bowl?” she asked.
“I actually ate breakfast and lunch.”
Unable to come up with a good response to that, she asked, “Now will you tell me why you actually came over here?”
His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “I was in the neighborhood and I wanted to ask you about the listings we were going to see. I’ve decided there’s something else I want to factor into the home I buy.”
“Should I get my notes?”
“No, that’s okay.” He ate a spoonful of soup and gave the bowl a surprised look. “Damn, that’s good.”
“It’s excellent,” she said around an unladylike mouthful.
He chuckled and ate more of the soup. “Anyway, I’ve started doing that community involvement work I mentioned not too long ago. I’ll be a P.A.L., or mentor, to a boy named Rashied at the Michael Sanderson Center for Boys and Girls. I’m planning to be at the center quite a bit during the off-season and when we’re in town during the regular season, so it would be ideal to find a place that allows for a reasonable commute there and back.”
The warmth that unfurled inside her had nothing to do with the soup and everything to do with Callan’s determination to be an important part of a child’s life.
“I see,” she said. “What’s Rashied like?”
By the time Callan finished filling her in on the details of the first time he’d met Rashied, she was near tears with laughter.
“I like him already.”
He gave her a side-eyed look. “I figured you would. He reminded me of you in a lot of ways. Anyway, I’m really glad I spoke with Vivian. Working at the center is going to be more fulfilling than I ever expected.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.” She spooned up more soup. “Is Vivian the PR person for the team?”
“Yes. She’s the Director of Public Relations. But I think she’s wearing quite a few hats right now. It sounds like the team hasn’t finished filling every role on the administrative side.”
“Do you know if she would be the person I’d need to talk to about this idea I’ve been working on?”
“What idea?”
She gave him a quick overview of the pitch Allison had helped her fine-tune for working with The Siege’s transitioning players. It left him looking intrigued.
“I would have loved to have been offered a service like that during my moves over the years,” he said. “It sounds like a great idea. But I’m not actually sure who makes those kinds of decisions. If you want, I can reach out to Vivian and ask.”
She considered that. It might be easier to go through a third party like Callan to make this introduction, but would it make a better impression if she did the legwork herself?
“I appreciate the offer, but I want to try reaching out to her on my own first to show some initiative. If it’s all right with you, though, I’d like to drop your name so she doesn’t immediately hang up or toss out my message.”
“Drop away.”
“Thank you,” she said, rising with her empty bowl and reaching for his.
“Uh-uh. I’ve got this.” He took her bowl from her and carried them both to the sink. “Why don’t you go find something to watch on the TV while I clean these?”
She looked towards the bedroom where her television was and back at him. “Maybe we could watch something on YouTube on my laptop here in the family room?”
“Sure.”
Relieved he didn’t question her and make her explain the lack of cable, she collected her laptop from the bedroom and set it up on the coffee table, propping some of her books under it to lift it to a reasonable viewing angle. Then she sank onto the loveseat and fought back a yawn. The soothing soup was hitting her system hard.
By the time Callan finished washing, drying, and putting away the bowls, she had cued up a new video from one of her favorite YouTubers. He joined her on the loveseat, lifting his arm and pulling her against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“What’re we watching?” he asked.
“A YouTuber named Samantha Matthews. She does a mix of stuff. How-Tos, taste tests, product reviews…things like that.”
“All right.”
She pressed the play button and returned to her position against him, resting her head on his chest and snuggling into his body heat. The oversized loveseat was just long enough that she could lift her legs up and curl them beside her.
As the video started, Callan’s fingers ran lightly along her bicep in a relaxing rhythm. Her eyelids soon felt weighted. She had the brief thought that she needed to stay awake to let in the food delivery person before sleep claimed her.
Chapter Twenty
The buzzing of Callan’s cell phone alarm woke him at five o’clock the following morning. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone, silencing it so it didn’t wake Roxy.
Not long after she had fallen asleep on the loveseat, he carried her to her bed and got her tucked in. It had still been shy of seven o’clock. She hadn’t stirred since.
He had picked up on her exhaustion the moment he saw her. Her complexion was too pale, her beautiful eyes too shadowed. Even her usual energy was notably subdued. It reflected in the tone of her voice and how she walked.
It hadn’t taken him long to decide he needed to do something. Roxy wasn’t taking proper care of herself, so he was going to do it for her.
Thank God she had been too tired to fight him on it, he thought as he eased out of her bed. He had slept in his clothes on top of the covers to avoid disrupting her sleep, so he moved silently through her bedroom to the bathroom. On his way back through the bedroom, he paused by the side of the bed and, since she wasn’t awake to stop him, gave into the need to kiss her goodbye. It was a simple brush of his lips across her temple, but that combined with her scent lifted his mood.
He closed her bedroom door behind him so he didn’t wake her as he left. Then he found a pad of paper and a pen in a kitchen drawer and wrote her a note.
Left for practice. Text me when and where we can meet up later to check out those listings.
He signed it with a C, then added, P.S. Don’t be mad about the food.
He figured it was good that Roxy had fallen asleep when she did. It allowed him to greet the grocery delivery person and help put away the couple hundred dollars in groceries he had ordered for her while she was showering. He would surely have gotten an earful from her for overstepping if the groceries had arrived while she’d been awake. He’d been fully prepared to deal with that, but he wasn’t unhappy that it hadn’t happened.
Yet, anyway. When she woke up and found her cabinets and fridge full of food, he had little doubt he’d hear about it.
He headed out, wishing he had a key to lock her deadbolt. He settled for turning the handle’s lock as he pulled the door closed. His car was parked a block away in a free street parking spot he’d found the day before, so he walked along the darkened streets until he reached it. Fortunately, it appeared safe and sound.
Less than an hour later, he was in his gear and on the ice of the practice rink used by The Siege, running through some standard on-ice warmup drills. Christian stood at one end of the ice in front of the goal doing his stretching routine. Callan had asked his friend to join him so he could get in some shooting practice before they were joined by anyone else. With training camp and the preseason starting in a couple weeks, more and more players would start hitting the ice.