“I had lunch with Baden Oulett.” As expected, that knocks the smile from her expression. “He’s moved to Pittsburgh to take on the position of goalie coach for the Titans.”
Confusion is etched on Frankie’s face. “But the team is dead.”
“Oh my God, Frankie. You have got to get at least nominally up to speed on the news. They’re rebuilding the team. Baden was offered the goalie coach job, and he took it. He came to see me yesterday and invited me to lunch today.”
“Wow,” she murmurs and then hesitantly asks, “And… how is he?”
A wide grins breaks out. “He’s wonderful. He’s walking on his own, healthy and whole.”
“A miracle,” she whispers. While she doesn’t know the extent of his injuries, she knows he was paralyzed from the waist down.
“An absolute miracle.”
I explain how his recovery has gone, his goal of getting back on the ice with the Vengeance but then the offer by the Titans’ new owner came up, how he decided to take the job here since a return to play at his previous level was such a long shot.
And lastly, how he showed up yesterday to check on me.
To see how I was doing.
“And lunch?” Frankie prods. She wiggles into the cushion slightly, pulls the tea to her lips, and takes a small sip, staring at me over the edge of the cup as if waiting for something juicy.
I shrug. “He’s only trying to help me get over my fears. He used the lunch invitation to push me out of my comfort zone.”
“Bullshit,” Frankie says, shaking her head. “No man is that gallant.”
“Baden is,” I say quietly.
Assuredly.
Frankie nudges me again. “So, there’s nothing there? No spark?”
I should immediately deny such a thing could exist, but I can’t. Because there is something.
“It’s a bond.” I test out that word, and yes, it seems right. “Because of what we went through. What he went through to save me.”
“I get that,” Frankie says with a flip of her hand. “But I’m talking about attraction.”
I shake my head. This is easier to deny. “He wouldn’t be interested in me like that.”
“Fuck what he’d be interested in,” she says, a rarity for her to drop an f-bomb these days. “Are you attracted to him?”
I kick Frankie in the hip, not enough to spill her tea but with enough force to make a point. “There’s not a woman in the world who wouldn’t be attracted to him. He’s hot, okay? Like, superhot. And funny, and kind, and genuinely humble. But he’s my friend and roommate. I think he’s going to become a very good friend, but that—”
“Wait a damn minute,” Frankie yells at me. “Roommate?”
“Oh yeah… forgot to tell you that part.” I give her an innocent look, and she glares at me. “He’s staying at the Fairview until he can find his own place, so I offered for him to stay in my guest room.”
“And he accepted?” Frankie asks, eyebrows knit and face twisted in consternation.
“He did.”
Frankie bursts out laughing, head tipped back. When her attention comes back to me, she says, “Oh, you two have it bad for each other.”
Pursing my lips in amusement, I stare at her pointedly. “You’re way off base. And you’ve never even met or talked to Baden. There’s no way you could make a judgment call like that.”
“Pfft.”
“I’m telling you—”
“My dear, sweet Sophie,” Frankie drawls, then sips her tea. “I bet you a million dollars you two fall in love.”
“You’re crazy.” I’m sure she’s crazy, but she’s staring at me like she knows something, like maybe the universe is talking to her. And it’s freaking me out. “Okay, stop it. No more talk of that. Baden and I are just friends, temporary roommates, and that is it. It’s nothing more and will be nothing more, and I don’t want you trying to create something that’s not there.”
Frankie smiles smugly, then shrugs. “If you say so.”
“I do.” I punctuate that with a firm nod.
She inclines her head solicitously. “Fine.”
“Fine,” I repeat.
“Great.”
“It is great,” I echo.
“I’m glad.”
“Me too.”
“Are we done?” she inquires sweetly.
“Done with what?” I ask innocently.
“You acting like I didn’t nail something on the head and me agreeing with you, even though I know I’m right and you’re wrong?”
“Ugh,” I mutter, giving her another kick. “You’re rotten.”
“I know,” she says and sips her tea with a satisfied smile.
CHAPTER 10
Baden
I’m here.
A simple text to Sophie to let her know I’m in the alley behind her house, waiting to be let in to her detached two-car garage.
It’s late, and I’ll bet she’s nervous about meeting me out here. I’ve observed enough about Sophie to know that any time she’s outside the cocoon of her home, she’s pressed under the weight of her fear.
I step outside the rental car while it idles so she can clearly see me as soon as she opens the garage from within.
The simple plan we made at the end of lunch today was that I’d check out of the Fairview after I finished for the day at the arena and come straight here. Sophie said she would make dinner, and I didn’t argue. I’ve tasted her cooking, and I’m looking forward to whatever we’re having.
Plans aren’t always so simple, though.
I didn’t realize how late we’d be working, finalizing the remainder of this week’s practice schedule, as well as planning various line combos we could test to get the best possible players together who would complement one another’s skills.
I called Sophie at five p.m. to let her know I didn’t know when I’d be leaving. She told me not to worry, that my food would reheat.
At eight p.m., I called and told her there was still no end in sight. I didn’t want her to have to wait up for me, because she’d have to let me in the house. It’s not like she had an extra key on her today when we decided to become roommates. I told her to go to bed and I’d stay at the Fairview again tonight, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She insisted no matter what time I made it to her house, she’d be awake.
The gallant man inside me wanted to insist I stay at the hotel so as not to impose, but the part of me that had a fabulous time with her at lunch today wanted to see her again, even if it did disturb her evening. That man has a selfish streak, apparently, as I willingly let her talk me into coming to her place whenever I finished work, no matter the hour.
It’s almost eleven now, and I feel guilty about showing up so late.
The rolling garage door opens, the interior light revealing Sophie standing there looking relieved to see me outside the car. I smile before ducking back inside and slowly pulling the car in beside hers.
As I switch off the ignition, I study her in the illumination of the headlights, and I like what I see. She looks both adorable and curiously sexy in a pair of baggy flannel pajamas in a black-and-red block print and black boots with faux fur trim that come no higher than midcalf. She’s not wearing a coat, hat, or gloves, and her arms are crossed, shoulders hunched in an “I’m freezing my ass off” stance.