“Babe—”
“Oh, flight!” It finally registers. He’s leaving for Minnesota today, and I’m holding him up. “I am so sorry. I forgot!”
I fumble with the sheets, which is less than productive. My feet tangle, and I’m a hot mess as I fall out of bed and land in an oddly contorted yoga pose on the floor.
“Sorry,” I say. “Not a morning person.”
“Wouldn’t have guessed,” he says, reaching over to scoop me up. Once he plants me on my feet, he kisses my forehead. “I promise I didn’t plan things this way; I really, really wish I could stay.”
“It’s fine. We’re friends with benefits.” I rise up onto my tiptoes to kiss him back. “Breakfast not required.”
“Breakfast is desired, however.”
While I’m standing there with hair that appears to have been electrocuted, he apparently wakes up looking ready for a media interview. If I’m not mistaken, he’s showered again—his hair is damp and curly, falling in soft loops onto his forehead. He’s wearing jeans and a sweater that make him look like a cross between a Ralph Lauren model and the hockey player he is.
I look down in horror. Apparently I never found that shirt of Ryan’s, or if I did, it ended up on the floor with the rest of my clothes. I dive for my underwear first, shimmy into those, and then begin the search for my bra.
After a moment, I look up from examining the underbelly of Ryan’s bed to find it dangling from his fingers.
“Looking for this?” he asks. “Come and get it.”
“I thought you had to leave…urgently.”
“I do, which is why I was about to tell you to take your time, but then you bent over and I got all distracted. Don’t blame me.”
“My car!” I exclaim. “It’s in the parking lot on Hollywood Boulevard.”
“It’s fine there,” he says. “Boxer will take you up to retrieve it.”
“Boxer?”
“Big guy, missing a tooth—”
“I know who he is,” I say. “But why is he bringing me to my car?”
“Because I called him and told him to get his ass over here because I don’t want you paying for an Uber when it was my ass who dragged your ass back here.”
“I didn’t mind the dragging,” I say with a shrug. “Fair’s fair. I can Uber.”
“He’s waiting outside. Just leave the keys on the table when you’re ready to go, and Lawrence will lock up—”
“I’m ready,” I say, one leg still outside of my jeans. “Or I’m almost ready.”
“I’ll just leave you the keys—”
“Nope, I’m good!” In all honesty, I don’t want to be trusted with the keys to Ryan’s apartment, even for a short time. Too much could go wrong—I could lose them, break something, decide I love his bed and shower more than mine and never actually leave this place… “Let’s go.”
He clears his throat.
I glance down, realizing that I put my arm through the head hole of my shirt and things are all off balance. I make the necessary adjustments, ignore the fact that my hair looks like a bird’s nest, and march out of the room.
Ryan locks the door, and I see a huge SUV on the street—Boxer, I’m guessing.
“Is he here for both of us?” I ask.
“No, I have someone picking me up. They’ll be here in a second.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go with Boxer? I swear I can get a ride.”
“It’s fine,” he says. “Really. I’d love to see you longer—I mean, you can ride with me to the airport if you want, but I figured you have things to do.”
“Right,” I say, even though I don’t really have things to do. It feels too clingy to say otherwise. Even so, I have no classes, nothing until three this afternoon when I have to report to Peretti’s for work. “Well, have a safe flight.”
“Andi…” He pauses. “I had a really nice time last night.”
“Me too.”
He takes my hand in his, looking at the back of it as if there’s a message written there. Apparently he sees nothing because he sighs and brings his eyes to mine. “You’re coming to the wedding, right? Without a doubt?”
“Of course,” I say. “I owe it to your Ferrari.”
At first he looks dismayed, then he must realize that I’m joking because he smiles. “Whatever the reason, I’ll take it.”
There’s a moment of silence, a heavy moment in which both of us try to decide if there’s something else to say—at least, that’s what I’m doing. Do I tell him I’ll miss him? It’s the truth, but I’m not sure what the protocol is for our agreement.
“I’ll miss you,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”
I let out a breath. “I’ll miss you too. I mean, after last night…I’ll definitely miss you. Let me just say, I had no clue what I was going to be missing.”
He looks proud of himself, and for good reason, too.
I follow his eyes as he watches my face, trails his gaze down to my lips, and then opens his mouth to say something else.
“Don’t worry,” I say before he reminds me that we’re just friends again. “I’m not attached or whatever. I just meant I had a good time.”
“Just friends?” He frowns, his grip on my hand growing tighter and tighter until he’s squeezing me so hard there’s a red mark from his fingers. “Andi, I—”
I hold my breath and wait for whatever he’s about to say, whatever is so difficult he’s having a hard time getting it out, but the words never come.
Behind me comes the honk of a horn, and I turn to find a sleek black Porsche pulling up to the curb. Behind the wheel is a slim blonde; she’s gorgeous in an ice queen sort of way. She’s dressed in an outfit that I’m sure was more expensive than what I pay in a month’s rent, and she looks pissed.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, backing away, confused. “Is that your…ride?”
“Andi, no,” he says, seeing the look on my face. “It’s nothing like that. She’s the agent I’m hoping to sign with, and she’s ticked because we’re late going to the airport. It’s not your fault though, it’s mine. I called her last minute for a ride so I could send Boxer with you.”
“She’s going with you to Minnesota?”
“We have a meeting this afternoon with my coach. She’ll fly back out afterward,” he says. “And if you’re wondering, no—there is nothing, has never been anything, and will never be anything between her and me.”
“Did I look that desperate?”
“Not desperate,” he says with a flustered look over my shoulder. “But I didn’t want you to wonder, or worry, because—”
“Friends with benefits,” I finish. “I get it, and I appreciate it. Look, have a great flight and enjoy your time. I hope you get whatever it is you want the most out of all this.”
“The most?”
“Minnesota, LA, the Stars, the Lightning, anything else that I don’t understand in your little hockey world. I hope it all works out for you.”
“My little hockey world,” he repeats with a ghosted smile. “I’ll miss you. Call me sometime.”
He leans in, brushes a kiss against my cheek, and then he’s gone.