“Sorry,” I say with a shrug. “I didn’t even know I was having a party.”
“Let me guess—they heard Charli was here. And they had to see it for themselves?” She drags an upholstered dining chair away from the table and positions it where she can prop her feet on the chaise near ours.
“Go go go!” Trevi yells at the screen. New Jersey has a breakaway. There are only a few minutes left in regulation play.
Jesus Lord, please do not let this game go into overtime.
New Jersey shoots. The lamp lights, and all the hockey players on the sofa holler with victory.
Overtime is almost guaranteed now. “I’m so screwed,” I whisper into Charli’s ear.
“You wish,” she whispers back.
And that is one hundred percent true.
THIRTY-NINE
SOME QUALITY WORK
Charli
My brother calls during the overtime period. I’m a little drunk on wine and emotional overload, but I answer it, moving over to Neil’s piano bench for a moment of privacy. “Dennis, don’t kill my mood. What is it that you need to ask me?”
“It’s about your place, Charli. Robert got us jobs at a club. But I need to know if I can stay in this apartment. Robert said it was okay, but I didn’t want to assume.”
“Oh,” I breathe. “You really got a job?”
“Yeah. I work in the stock room. He works security. I’ve stayed clear of the poker, Charli.”
“Well… the place is paid up for another week. But then you’ll have to pay the rent. On the fifteenth.” I’m proud of Dennis, but I can’t let him bleed me dry. Not anymore.
“How much?” he asks.
“Nine hundred and fifty.”
“Hey—I can do that!” he says, his voice giddy.
“Yeah?” My mind is blown.
“Yeah. I’ll get Robert to kick in some.”
Good luck with that.
“Can I pay cash, you think?”
“You can. The landlord manages that check-cashing store on the ground floor. His name is Roy—I wouldn’t hand it to anyone else. And Dennis, get a receipt.”
“Okay, okay. Good plan. But Charli—you’re not coming back?”
“No,” I say softly. “It’s all yours if you want it.”
He chuckles. “Movin’ up, huh? Always knew you would. Maybe I will too someday.”
“I hope so.”
The guys behind me roar at some play on the screen.
“You gotta go,” Dennis says. “Sounds like you’re havin’ fun. Talk soon?”
“Sure. Good luck, Denn.”
“You too!”
He hangs up, and I make my way back to the couch.
Neil lifts his arm, beckoning me to curl up next to him again, and I go right in like a heat-seeking missile.
I’ve realized a few important things tonight. First of all, Neil missed me. Really missed me. And he missed me—not the idea of me. Not just my naked body. He actually missed the redheaded, hot mess, angry girl who verbally spars with him at every opportunity.
He’d told me so several times. He’d even said I love you.
I hadn’t really believed him until his goofy friends showed up to razz him.
Until now, I couldn’t picture Neil needing me like I need him. The idea of him moping around Brooklyn for a few weeks didn’t compute.
That’s on me. I’ve spent the last decade yelling about how underappreciated women are, especially female athletes, but the person who did the best job of underappreciating me was… me.
Yup. My bad.
The other thing I’m realizing is that I like Neil’s taste in sofas. And also red wine. It’s super comfortable here with the weight of his arm around me.
“I’m sleepy. And I may have a super-low tolerance for alcohol,” I say to Neil’s shoulder.
“I’m getting that impression,” he says, petting my hair. “It was a really stressful day. But don’t conk out yet, baby. Your team is about to win this thing.”
Two minutes later, Philly scores to end the overtime period. My whoop of joy has barely ended when Neil announces that the party is over.
Everybody laughs as they rise to clean up the empty glasses and bottles and discard the pizza box.
“You’re coming home tonight, right?” Fiona says.
“Umm…” I say from where I’m practically draped over Neil. “Maybe not?”
“I’m joking, honey. See you in the morning. You can expect lots of nosy questions.”
“Oh goody,” I say with a sigh. “I love nosy questions.”
“Night, Drake,” Leo Trevi says. “Thanks for barely hosting.”
“You’re barely welcome,” Neil says cheerfully. “See you on the plane.”
“Later.”
I glance at Neil as everyone files out of the living room. “You have to travel tomorrow?”
“Yeah, but not until late morning.” Neil scoops his arm under my knees, stands, and heads toward the bedroom.
Oh goody!
Unfortunately, he makes a stop in the bathroom. “Wash up, hot stuff. Need a T-shirt to sleep in?”
“No,” I say.
“Suit yourself.” He leaves me to brush my teeth, which I accomplish with absolutely zero finesse. Then I remove all my clothing. Every stitch. And I waltz into Neil’s bedroom.
“Well, hello dolly!” Neil says. “I like your outfit.”
“Thanks,” I say, sliding into the bed. “This is my side,” I say, patting the mattress. “Did you sleep on it when I was gone?”
“No, I did not,” he insists. “Back in a sec.” He disappears into the bathroom, and I snuggle under the comforter, delightfully naked. We are going to have so much fun now. I’ve earned it.
Neil returns a few minutes later wearing flannel shorts and a T-shirt. He shuts off the lights and then slides into his side of the bed.
Turning to him, I purr. He pulls me into his arms and kisses me.
Yesssssss. I throw a knee over his leg and kiss him like the world will self-destruct in the next sixty seconds.
It doesn’t. Neil breaks our kiss and rubs my back in gentle circles. “Good night, sexy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“But…” A yawn stops me before I can get the rest out. “But we get to have make-up sex now. I always wanted to have make-up sex.”
His smile feels stubbly against my cheek. “It’s still make-up sex if we have it tomorrow. After you relax and sober up.”
“I am relaxed,” I insist. “Very, very relaxed. And very ready to show you how much I missed you.”
He lets out a very low groan. “And you can. Tomorrow. You’re finally back, right where I want you. But you told me today that people have tried to take advantage of you. And I will not be that guy. If I ever was, I can’t be again.”
“You are not that guy,” I argue, pressing myself up on an elbow to make my point. “You were never that guy. I want you. I probably always have! That’s why I was so angry at you.”
His smile is beautiful in the moonlight. “You’ll still want me in the morning, then. Now put your head down right here…” He pats the pillow. “And go to sleep.”