Page 2 of Forbidden Puck
“Hmm. You could ask me how my day at work went.”
He took a deep breath. I could tell he was still annoyed about the tickling.
“So, Ella, how was your day at work?” he asked, slightly strained.
Happily, I began to tell him about the latest kitchen remodeling project I'd just finished in an apartment in Cobble Hill. It was an apartment that had languished in the décor of the boring, blasé 90's. Appliances that had once tried to look futuristic, now looked plain dated. The orange wood cabinetry and matching island hadn't aged so gracefully, either. The laminate counter-tops looked unacceptably cheap, and the white tile floor looked uninspired.
But as of today, I was happy to report that the project was finished. New cabinets, a new island, new appliances and lighting and a beautiful tile backsplash and hardwood floor and farmhouse sink, to just name a few of the upgrades,andthe client had absolutely loved it all, and …
Matthew nodded while I told him all this, injecting perfectly placeduh huh'sorright'swhenever necessary. But the whole time, his phone, lying on the mattress between us, buzzed incessantly. Onebzztafter anotherbzzt,and I could see it in his eyes, he wasn't listening to me; his mind was on those text messages.
“Someone sure enjoys their attorney-client privilege,” I said. “Who's texting you, anyway?”
He patted me on the head, as I were a well-behaved puppy. “Oh, I don't know, probably one of my partners at the office.”
“Don't lie to me, Matthew …” I said lowly. “You know lying is a deal-breaker to me.”
“Yeah yeah, of course.” But he was quick to change the subject. “Well hey, I'm glad to hear your little work thing turned out.”
Little work thing?
“So, how's Lance doing?” he asked. “Spoken to him lately?”
Really? He's asking about my brother again?
“I dunno, why?”
“He's on a goal-scoring tear lately. Lance and his winger, Ryan Ryder, have someseriouschemistry together. Ryder is like a wrecking ball out on the ice, crushing guys left and right and clearing space for your brother. It lets Lance focus on scoring goals, while Ryder does all the dirty work. They've got a good thing going. It's a really exciting brand of hockey they're playing right now, honestly. Everyone's talking about them.”
“Oh.” I gave a small shrug of my shoulder. “I wouldn't know. I don't really watch his games all that closely. Or at all.”
“Yeah. I know. You're crazy.” Matthew chuckled. “IfIhad a brother in the NHL, I wouldn't miss a single game.”
“So you've said,” I said with a sigh.
“Ella,” Matthew said, sounding suddenly serious. He took my hand in his and gently squeezed. “Can I ask you something?”
“Um, sure.”
His eyes probed deeply into mine.
“When do you think I'll get to meet Lance?” he asked at last.
Why did I feel like Matthew would be happier takingmy brotherto Key West …?
“I don't introduce my family to guys unless we're serious,” I answered at last. “It's bad form.”
Hint, hint.
“This again?” Matthew smiled, but it wasn't a happy one, and he let go of my hand. “Holy shit, Ella. That's a hell of a thing to say to a guy who's taking you to Key West in three weeks. How paranoid are you? How many times do I have tell you that I'm not dating anybody else? I mean, seriously, what more do you want from me?”
My eyes searched skyward for guidance. On one hand, I hated to make demands. On the other hand, hewasasking, wasn't he?
“You could make our relationship Facebook official, for one.”
“Facebook official,” he scoffed. “I don't subscribe to all that social media bullshit, okay. If you wanna obsess over it, that's your problem, not mine.”
Says the guy constantly on his phone.
