Page 41 of Unmasking Love
Not at all!
Well, good news. I like to cook.
Oh shit. Was that too far? Did I show my hand? Is she going to pick up on the fact that I am thinking about cookingforher. The flight attendant chimes in that we are about to take off and that we need to turn our phones off. I scramble to text Harper and hopefully dodge the conversation about everything I’d like to do for her.
Gotta go, we’re about to take off.
Have a good flight :)
Thanks Harper, enjoy the rest of your day.
***
Finally in my hotel room after the team dinner and I pull out my phone before stripping out of my suit.
How was the rest of your day?
I didn’t want to text Harper in front of the guys even though I’ve been dying to text her since the plane. They’ve got a sixth sense for when any of us are speaking to a woman. Poor Kasper got nailed because he smiled at his phone before a game. When Ducnan learned it was his older sister giving him a hard time some of the teasing eased up.
I turn on the TV for background noise and unpack while I wait for Harper to respond. So far she’s been quick with her replies but it’s only been one day of my new duties as “emotional support man” as Wes dubbed me via text today.
He texted this afternoon as I was boarding the bus to tell me he liked my style. I didn’t know what he meant. He said taking lunch to Harper yesterday was more than any boyfriend had ever done and he appreciated that I was the kind of person who would do that for her.
And with the way she’s been occupying my mind I’m thinking there is a lot I’d be willing to do for her.
As I zip up my suitcase and store it in the closet I realize she still hasn’t responded.
Before I let fear take over I give her a call.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
I end the call when her voicemail picks up and run a hand through my hair. I force a deep breath.
She’s fine. She’s probably with a client.
Except she only had one showing this afternoon and it is past nine on the east coast.
Maybe she was out with Wes.
Or maybe something has happened to her and now I am in Texas and she is in trouble. My heart rate speeds up as I dial her number again.
No answer.
She’s fine, I tell myself.Bad things happen out of nowhere but they didn’t happen to Harper tonight. She’s okay.
My feet pace the small rectangle room. My hands occupy themselves with sliding off my tie and unbuttoning my shirt. Can I ask Coach to let me fly home to check on her? I could be back before the morning skate tomorrow.
The logical side of my brain is telling me I’m overreacting, especially since I’m notactuallydating Harper. But that small voice is drowned out by the irrational anxiety that maybe she’s not okay and I can’t be there to help her.
I call again.
“Hello?”
