Page 39 of Wilder Puck
I repeat the words like a mantra as I let myself out of his house and drive home through the quiet streets. By the time I crawl into my own cold, lonely bed, I almost believe them.
The next morning, I'm a zombie as I go through the motions of opening up my coffee shop. I didn't get more than an hour of actual sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I ached to be in his arms. I feel like a puppy that just discovered belly rubs.
I'm being ridiculous. It was just cuddling. Friends can cuddle, right? I mean, everything I was thinking last night is wrong, right? What if he doesn’t have any feelings for me, and I made it all up? This is the issue with new days, I have new thoughts. The bottom line is that we are friends with benefits now, and it doesn't have to mean anything.
But that's the problem, isn't it? It felt like it meant something. It felt like everything.
I shake my head and focus on setting out the pastries. I refuse to overthink this any more than I already have. So, I bailed on a sleepover with my hookup buddy. So what? It's not a big deal. Ryan probably didn't even notice. He sleeps like the dead after a rough practice.
Still, I can't help but glance at my phone every few minutes, hoping for a text from him. He usually sends me a quick good morning or pops in for his usualCryin’ Ryanbefore heading to the rink. But as the minutes tick by with no word, my stomach sinks.
Is he mad that I left? Hurt? Worse, has he figured out the real reason I bolted and is now trying to figure out how to let me down gently?
Ugh, I'm out of control. This is why feelings have no place in situations like these. They make everything messy and complicated. Why the hell did I suggest this in the first place? I am face-palming myself now.
I force myself to put my phone away and concentrate on my customers. I plaster on a smile and make small talk, letting the familiar routine calm my nerves. Everything is fine. Ryan and I are fine. Stop being neurotic, Addison.
We close up the coffee shop, and I head home to eat and get ready for my shift at the sports bar tonight. It feels like hours have gone by when it’s finally time for me to head to my second job.
I've almost managed to convince myself to forget all about Ryan by the time my phone buzzes with a text. I lunge for it embarrassingly fast while I’m clocking in at the bar, my heart in my throat.
It's from Ryan.
Ryan: You didn’t show up for our run this morning
Shit.
My heart has sunken into my stomach, and it’s fluttering around. How could I forget about our run? Oh, no. Shit!
If my actions didn’t shout guilty last night, missing our weekly run definitely is. I stare off into space because how did I forget I rescheduled it for this morning? I was so distraught by last night that my lack of sleep is to blame.
Baddie Addie: [Draft] I’m sorry
I stare at my phone. I’m such an asshole that I can’t even hit send. A big part of me knows I royally fucked up, and I’m just going to let it be. I pause before replying, not sure if I even should because I need to get ready for work.
It’s been an hour into work, and I still haven’t replied. I haven’t checked my phone because I fear that Ryan has messaged me or…if he hasn’t at all. Right now, my mind is all over the place. I don’t know what to do next.
I’m freaked out.
Yeah, you could say that.
There’s a group of women who are taking forever to order their vodka sodas at the bar, but I’m maintaining a happy attitude for the customer’s sake.
“Wait,” one of them says, narrowing her eyes at me. “Are you Baddie Addie?”
I smile widely at her, glad my coffee shop and face are recognized. She's gorgeous—tall and slim with perfect hair and makeup, clearly one of those Instagram model types. Her friends are equally glam, all designer clothes and dewy skin.
“Hi, yes,” I smile. "That's me."
The girl grins. “I knew it! You know Ryan Wilder, right? The goalie for the Seven Devils?”
My stomach does an odd little flip. My smile falters. “Yeah, we're friends. How did you–”
“I saw a pic of you two on his Instagram a while back,” she says. “From a game, I think. You guys are so cute. Are you like his sister or something?”
My smile suddenly goes stiff and brittle. “No, not his sister. Just friends.”
“Oh.” Her heavily lined eyes light up. “So, he's single then?”
