Page 20 of Charming Crosschecks

“It’s okay,” he replied quietly, taking a seat opposite of her. “It took me a long time to realize that and to be content with myself. What’s the saying – don’t poke the bear or rattle his cage?”

“And they rattle your cage.”

“With a jackhammer,” he grimaced at the admission. “Sometimes it’s not the words but the looks. If you tell someone you are brilliant and then roll your eyes, do you think they actually believe it?”

“Is that what happened?” she gasped, outraged for him on his behalf because he seemed so kind and gentle now. She was still waiting for him to start frowning, get upset, or for the proverbial shoe to drop.

“No, and I’d rather not discuss it anymore. Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure.”

“Why can’t you ice skate if you deal with hockey teams?”

“Well, how about we just discuss how you lost your temper and laughed at me when you found out?”

“I couldn’t believe it,” he admitted. “It was honestly pretty ridiculous that you couldn’t and…”

“You yelled at me.”

“You were in danger.”

“From you?”

“NO?!” he reared back, looking shocked. “Why do you have to be so argumentative?”

“You were the one drawing boundaries. I decided that I was going to regurgitate something else if you were going to act all superior to me because that isn’t how relationships work,” she snapped hotly. “Besides, if you are going to lose your cool or become Dr. Jekyll when I have dinner plans with Mr. Hyde – then I’d rather know before the appetizers arrive.”

And she saw him hesitate, looking stunned for a moment before he glowered at her.

“There were so many argumentative words in that statement that maybe I should get upset,” he began.

“Go ahead,” she said flatly, bracing herself.

“But… you’re right.”

Her breath rushed out of her in a whoosh as he picked up the lighter on the table, lighting the tapers, before pouring her a glass of sparkling water that was in a nearby container with ice, waiting.

“I don’t want to argue,” he said softly almost in an apology. “I didn’t mean to attack. I’m just more surprised that it was the case. I was pretty embarrassed at how I acted,” and took a deep breath before looking at her. “And if you want to know, it hurts when my Mom used to tell people I looked puffy, pudgy, or a little hefty. She did it when I was a kid – and when she did it in front of my teammates, it was too much. I love my mom so much and want to make her proud but…”

“You don’t feel like she is proud of you when that happens,” Molly answered putting it together. “And when I mentioned losing a little bit to help your back – it felt like the same thing. Didn’t it?”

“Except I couldn’t get away from you.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I never meant for it to feel demeaning or hurt your feelings.”

“I know that now.”

“And I’m sure your mother feels the same way.”

“We’ve talked about it – and I’m very close to her…now. I call all the time and try to take care of them. She always brags about me, takes selfies in my jersey, and I got her a Cadillac for Christmas last year, the same green as the Coyotes,” he smiled softly, looking almost shy.

“Can I see the pictures?”

“Of my mom? Sure,” he replied, digging his cell phone out and handing it to her. The guy was so stinking trusting that it was adorable, Molly hesitated, tempted to look around at the photos – but instead, clicked on the phone and called her cell.

“What are you doing?” he blurted out nervously, reaching for the phone as she held it away, getting out of her seat. “Molly?”

“Shhh,” she muttered, smiling. “Relax, okay? I called my phone so you can text me, and now we’re going to take a picture so you can text it to your mom,” she said simply, plopping down on his leg where he was sitting in the chair. She held up the phone, saw his stunned expression, and laughed.

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