Page 219 of Scoring the Player
“Here.” I hand it to him.
“What is it?” He pops back the lid.
“A slice of chocolate cake with coffee and Swiss meringue buttercream and a couple of blood orange cinnamon rolls.”
“Mm.” He moans. “You made this?”
I nod.
“You stress bake?” His smile darkens. “That’s—Listen, if Arnaz doesn’t come to his senses, know there’d be a line of men down this block who’d kill for all of this.” His hand waves up and down in front of me.
I stuff my hands in my pockets. I know that’s supposed to be comforting, but it hurts.
“Here,” he says, offering me the food.
“Keep it. I ate earlier.”
“Okay, but you have to take this at least.” He hands me the wine.
“Okay.” I accept it. “Thanks for checking on us.”
“See you Tuesday?” he asks Simba.
Sim wags his tail in response.
“Hey, Josiah?”
He looks up.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. I really appreciate your help with Simba, and how you take care of him when I’m not around.”
“I love Sim,” he says, beaming.
“I appreciate that. It’s just…I’ve noticed lately that you’ve worn clothes I’ve left around and sent me pics in them. I’m sure you meant it in a casual way,butI need to make sure it’s not crossing a professional boundary that I’m uncomfortable with.”
“Oh.” He winces. “Shoot.”
“If you ever need anything while you’re here, feel free to ask.”
“Oh my god, hearing you say it out loud—I’m so cringe. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks for hearing me out.”
He nods. “See you Tuesday?”
“Yep. Goodnight.”
I lock the door and then crash on the couch. I start the video again as Simba howls and races for the door.
Denzel?
I launch to my feet and bolt for the door, tearing it open, then freeze. Not by choice. My heart and brain are racing too fast to make sense of what I’m seeing.
Blue’s standing there, leather jacket drenched, eyes red, jaw scruffy, hand clenching his duffel.
He takes in my open shirt, then looks past me inside the house before searching my eyes.
“It’s just me and Sim here.” I don’t know why I offer that.
