Page 23 of Hooking Up with the Hockey Player

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Anna

When my phone chimes again, my heartbeat does a funny little dance in my chest. Is it Mindy? Or Troy?

Shaking my head at myself, I say out loud, “Calm down. It’s probably Brit.” Which would still be a good thing, because that would mean my minimal effort of reciprocation is enough to strike up a friendship with her, and that’s a positive thing. But I’m torn between hoping it’s Mindy and hoping it’s Troy.

When I pick up my phone and see the message from Troy, all my breath leaves me in a whoosh.

And then I’m sent into an anxiety spiral. He wants me to come over tonight? I know enough to realize that an invite from a guy to his place usually means he wants sex. But given that he mentioned his friends and their children being there, somehow that seems less likely.

I look down at the sock cuff in my lap, the ball of wool next to me, the threadbare T-shirt I have on, and the leggings with a hole in the crotch I only wear at home.

Do I want to go?

Part of me definitely does, but another part of me worries that it’s too much too soon to have brunch with him earlier today and then spend the evening with him too.

But is it really?

How should I know?

Biting my thumbnail, I debate what I should do.

I really, really, really wish I could talk to someone about this. When I was in college and overthinking everything, Mindy was the one who talked me off the ledge. Obviously, she’s not an option now.

Would it be weird if I called Brit?

Probably.

“Oh my god,” I groan, tapping on Brit’s name and pressing my phone to my ear. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I whisper to myself.

Brit picks up on the third ring. “Anna? Hey! What’s up?”

“Hey, Brit, I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a minute to talk?” I blurt out in a rush.

She chuckles. “Of course. I wouldn’t have answered if I couldn’t talk. What’s going on? Is everything okay? You sound a little panicky.”

I let out an unhinged laugh, but clamp my lips shut, cutting it off. “Yeah, uh, that’s pretty accurate.”

“Okay,” she says more slowly. “Tell me what’s happening. Do I need to come over? I’m starting to get worried now.”

“No, no. I mean, maybe? It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m just freaking out a little bit.” I suck in a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down a bit, grateful that Brit waits quietly for me to gather myself. “I’m really sorry about this. I’m not trying to freak you out too. I just didn’t know who else to call.” At least that comes out sounding slightly more sane.

“It’s okay,” she says, her voice soothing. “Tell me what’s happening. I’m happy to help if I can.”

“So, um, the guy I met last night? And had brunch with today? Troy? He invited me to the cabin he’s staying at to roast marshmallows at the fire pit there. And I know how that sounds,” I rush to get out, “but I think he just means roasting marshmallows because he mentioned that his friends and their kids will be there. I met them last night too. The friends, I mean. They were at his table. Not the kids, though. I don’t know them.” I shut my mouth, just barely managing not to slap my hand over it again to stem the flow of words.

Brit lets out a low chuckle. “Deep breaths, Anna. It’s okay. This is good, isn’t it? You like him, right?”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Okay. What’s the problem, then?”

I force myself to breathe in slowly, doing my best to calm myself down. “The problem is, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Uh, which part?”

“Dating? Or … casual relationships? I don’t understand how any of this works. Is this normal? I mean, we had a drink together last night, but at the time I thought it was him just being nice and rescuing me from those douchey guys that wouldn’t leave me alone. And it was that, but then he gave me his number. And today I decided I needed to stop being, well, the way I am and break out of my shell and try new things, so I invited him out to brunch. And now he’s inviting me over. And I don’t know, is that too much? All this time in the span of like a day? Is it too much?”

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