Page 100 of Test the Ice
Malaki and his witticism aren’t helping matters either. He’s easygoing, and flirty, and completely unaware of how much his chivalry means to me. Which is why I have to remind myself that what’s brewing between us isn’t long-term—or even real.
My phone vibrates again.
Malaki
What are you doing?
I’m currently sitting onhisbed, trying to convince myself that I’m not actually fantasizing about us being something real one day.
Malaki
Charleigh must be in bed. Which means you’re working on one of those needlepoint things, huh?
I pause my threading.
He already knows me too well.
I grab my phone and take a photo of my current project resting along my legs and type a follow-up text that says,
What are you doing?
If it were anyone else I was texting, I probably would have lied and said I was doing something different, but Malaki has never once made me feel silly or like my hobby was obsolete, so I’ll give him this one.
It takes him a little while to text back, but when he does, I slip into a state of insecurity.
I stare at the photo he sent–his large hand wrapped around a beer glass, the amber liquid almost gone. There are people in the background, though blurry, and I can’t help but wonder if this fake engagement is holding him back.
What if there is a woman there he wants to pursue?
I know we crossed the line the other night, and Malaki sure does have a way with words, but it’s not like we’re in a relationship. If I know what’s good for me, I won’t let us slip up again.
I look at the half-stitched R and sigh.
I’m starting to get invested in us–the ache in my chest tells me so.
Malaki
I’m supposed to be talking strategy with my coaches for the playoffs…
Me
But you’re at a bar instead?
I get through one stitch before my phone goes off again.
Malaki
No. I’m at dinner, Dimples…with my coaches. I’m just not really paying much attention.
Relief settles in my stomach—something I’m ashamed of.
Me
Then you better put your phone away and pay attention, Mr. Hockey Hotshot.
Malaki
I can’t.
