Page 109 of Mr. Charming

Without a goodbye or telling me whatever it was he wanted me to walk with him for, he continues down the hall. I want to take off my shoe and throw it at the back of his head. He’s a fool to not sign him, and I hate that he’s acting as if there’s some other left wing who’s better than Tweetie. He not only has the best but also a player who will give his all and is a leader on the ice.

Bud’s going to blow it, but what kills me is that Tweetie will be the one who’s hurt most.

Fifty-One

Tweetie

I’m lying in my bed alone after our dinner with my mom and Georgia. I’m meeting them for breakfast tomorrow before they head back to Colorado.

I pull up Tedi’s contact and hammer out a text.

Were you trying to kill me before the game?

I study the picture she sent me again. Her tits straining the number—my number across her chest. I’m not sure there’s a hockey player alive who doesn’t want his girl to wear his jersey to a game. It’s as if it’s ingrained in us to want to show off what’s ours, and I feel no different. I want her decked out in the number eight like she used to be. I want to look at her through the glass and see my number on her because it’s a sense of belonging. To her.

That was the point.

I almost followed you home.

That’s stalker behavior.

Can you blame me? I want to see you in that T-shirt and nothing else.

That can be arranged.

At a later date.

I’m staring at this picture like I’m thirteen again. Your tits look amazing.

I did perk them up a little. Age…

They are still one of my favorite parts of you.

So are we going to keep up this texting thing all night? I think you might need a free hand soon.

I pull the phone away and press on her number.

She answers on the first ring. “I wondered how long you’d wait to use my number.”

“I was giving you space.” It’s the truth. I went to call her a couple times, but I didn’t want to infiltrate her life too fast. “I’m trying to be a good boy.”

“Not even a finger touched my thigh under the table tonight. Kudos to you.”

“Did you not see my napkin in shreds when we left?”

She laughs, so I ask for one more favor, hoping she’ll indulge me.

“Tedi…”

“Yeah?”

“Can we FaceTime? I just want to see you.” I know I’m showing how vulnerable I am, how much she undoes me, but I don’t give a shit anymore.

“You just saw me. We spent dinner together.”

“Is that a no?”

“No, it’s not.”

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