Page 11 of Hooking Up with the Hockey Player

I wasn’t sure if I’d hear from her again. I’d hoped I would, but she hadn’t seemed overly enthusiastic about me giving her my number, even if we’d had a nice conversation. She’d seemed a little put off by the hockey player thing, but it’s not like I can change my past, can I?

Still, when she hadn’t texted or called last night after she got home, and still nothing this morning when I got up, I’d started to assume she wouldn’t reach out.

But she did. At last. And she’s invited me to brunch.

Glancing at the time, I realize it’s been over thirty minutes since she texted, though. Shit. Am I too late?

Nick lets out a whistle, and Tina smacks him. “Hush,” she hisses. “Don’t ruin it.”

Distracted from typing out my answer, I glance up at them. “What?”

Nick’s grinning like the cat that got the canary. “What yourself? Who texted?”

That’s when I realize I’m smiling like an idiot. Or like a man who just got a text from a woman he likes. Schooling my features into a scowl, I finish typing my message and hit send.

Hey! I’d love to grab brunch. I would’ve responded sooner, but I was out for a morning swim and just got your text. If it’s too late for brunch, maybe a late lunch? Or dinner?

Nick’s cackling, and Dozer wanders out, yawning and scratching his belly. “What’s going on, guys?”

“Yeah, Troy,” Nick says, sitting on a deck chair with Noah wrapped in a towel on his lap, happily munching on a bowl of goldfish crackers. “What’s going on?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

Nick’s laughter follows me into the house, along with Dozer’s confused, “Huh? What’d I miss?”

I pass a sleepy eyed Jenny in the kitchen, where she’s helping herself to some coffee. She and Dozer must’ve had a late night. There’s a reason they get the room on the ground floor to themselves while the rest of us are staying upstairs. That way, there’s no risk of them keeping the rest of us up at night, especially the kids.

Nervous energy bubbles inside me as I wait for a response from Anna. Grabbing fresh clothes, I head to the bathroom, relieved when my phone chimes with an alert before I even turn the water on.

Anna

Not too late at all! Want to meet at Cascade Cafe? I hear their stuffed French toast is amazing

You haven’t had it before?

Anna

Not yet. But it seems like a good time to try it, don’t you think?

Absolutely. Meet you there in 30?

Anna

See you then!

After I google the restaurant, I realize it’ll take nearly twenty minutes to get there, so I hop in the shower for a quick scrub. I don’t think I’ve showered so fast since high school when we’d have to get showered after morning practice in under five minutes so we weren’t late for class.

Hair still wet, I thunder down the stairs, giving a high five to Shelby sitting at the breakfast bar eating a bowl of cereal and watching a cartoon on an iPad. “Uncle Troy, wait!” she yells.

“Sorry, Shelb. Gotta go. I’m meeting someone.”

She pokes out her lower lip in a dramatic pout. “Who?”

“A new friend who wants to meet for brunch.”

“What’s brunch?” Her brows pull together in comical confusion, but at least she’s not pouting.

“What you’re having.”

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