Page 27 of Skating the Blue Line
“You don’t know what you’re even talking about.” I say, shoving the asshole and walking into the gym.
For the rest of my work out, I think about what he said and as much as I don’t want to admit it. He’s right.
One night, a handful of hours, and Chloe has lit something in me that nobody else has before. And I fucking like.
The question is, though, am I going to try and make more out of it, or let it be?
Right now, I have no idea.
7
CHLOE
I sipmy tea as I look at the note with a neatly written phone number on it.
After Liam left, I went back to sleep only to wake up about half an hour ago, and the first thing I did was reach for my phone.
The piece of paper fell to the floor and I instantly reached for it, afraid that if I didn’t it would get lost in the abyss that is the mess under my bed.
773-210-1210
I’m expecting a text for you.
Liam.
For five minutes, I stared at the note. I memorized the number and studied his writing. I looked at it until I forced myself to do something besides obsess over it.
I decided that making myself breakfast was a good distraction. For the most part it was, but now that I’m finished eating and just sipping on my tea, the number is the only thing that I can think about.
Should I actually use it?
I know I agreed to going to one of his games and dinner in the next few days but texting or calling him seems like we are stepping into uncharted territory.
In the last ten years, I’ve had one serious relationship and that was while I still lived in Texas trying to decide if I should take a shot and audition to become a dancer.
My relationship with Marc lasted about a year and when I decided to pursue dancing professionally, we ended things.
Last I heard, he married his high school sweetheart and is living in San Diego and I became the ballerina that I am today.
Since then, dating has always taken a back seat. Sure I’ve gone on a date here and there but nothing that lasted more than a night or two.
That’s how I thought it would go with Liam. I thought we were going to have our one night of fun and then I wouldn’t hear from him ever again.
He’s a professional hockey player whose season is about to start and I’m about to enter the busiest time of the year for us dancers. I thought that he would leave this morning and tell me that we should hang out sometime when our schedules lined up, but we would never actually do it.
I thought that Liam was a never stay in contact with a woman type of man.
But from everything that he told me before he left and leaving his number, I’m starting to think that I was wrong for even thinking that.
It’s just a number, it doesn’t mean anything.Use it or don’t.
Right.
It’s just a number. Having Liam’s number doesn’t mean that he’s going to be my next boyfriend or anything. For all I know we could go to dinner again and spend more time together and become friends and nothing more.
Would it even be possible to become friends with someone that made me beg for an orgasm and made every single inch of my body weep?
It might be hard, but it’s possible.
