Page 11 of Forbidden Puck
“So where's Lance?” she asked.
“He's out with his girlfriend.”
Somehow, Ella didn't look like she believed me. “Lance has a girlfriend?”
“I'm not really sure what they are. Anyway, he said he'd be back by the time you were here. Maybe you should give him a call?”
She waved her hand. “I'm sure he's on his way.”
I offered to get her a drink. She asked for a glass of wine, and while I poured it for her, I asked about her flight. I half-listened while she described the frustrations of air travel that I knewfartoo well:
“…And then the TSA made me go back through security again, and do the whole thing over again, all becauseI had a pair of nail clippers…”
The other half of me studied her and her mannerisms while she talked.
Her tank-top revealed strong, athletic shoulders, and a perfectly ample set of breasts that I wasnotgoing to steal a single glimpse at, under any circumstances, out of respect to Lance. And out of respect to our living situation, and to the team, and—really, I could keep listing reasons why it's a bad idea to glance at the tits of your best friend and teammate's sister, but you get the idea, right?
But thenhereyes darted down and she stole a peek at mychest. I looked down at myself and, with a sudden embarrassment, realized I was standing shirtless in front of Lance's sister.
“By the way, do you always go around topless?” she asked with a grin that was both innocentanddevilish at the same time. She stole another look at my pecs and slyly bit her lip. “Because if so, this could be a fun couple of days.”
I hoped Lance's sister wasn't a flirt … or else this wouldnotbe a fun couple of days for me.
“Sorry, I forgot to put one on,” I said as I immediately booked it for my bedroom. “I ran out of the shower when I heard you knocking.”
“Sure Radar, sure,” she teased.
I shut myself in my bedroom, threw on a shirt, and took a deep breath. When I returned, Ella was looking around the condo, glass of wine in hand.
“What do you think of our place?” I asked her.
“It's lovely. Just a gorgeous place. I bet you two bring a lot of girls back here, hm?”
She gave me a knowing smile, which I laughed off.
She pointed at the living room, where we had two fold-out lawn chairs sitting in front of the huge, flat screen TV. “But … it's so empty! It looks like no one lives here! I mean, my God, your TV sits on the floor, and you don't even have a sofa? How do you two live like this?”
“Yeah, it's a sad sight right now. We just moved in right before the season started, so we haven't had a chance to furnish it or anything.” I paused. “So, I guess you've got your work cut out for you, huh?”
She whipped around to face me with a bewildered expression. “What'd you just say?”
“Um—I said—you've got your work cut out for you?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Didn't Lance tell you?”
“Tell me what, Radar?”
“That, uh, he wants you to furnish the place? Since you're an interior decorator and all?”
She was silent for a moment or two.
Then she started to laugh.
Then her laugh tapered off into a long, frustrated sigh.
“No. Lance didn't tell me that, actually. But it explains a lot.”
