Page 140 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
Juliet switches to a video call. I can see her relaxing on the couch, wearing a gray Seattle Havoc hoodie. My hoodie, I’m pretty sure.
“You look exhausted. I watched your game.” She wrinkles her nose.
I sigh heavily. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. It was a tough loss.” She props her head on her hand. “It seemed like you and Thorne were the only players who were awake other than Jett. It was hard to watch you guys skate yourselves into the ground while everybody else seemed sort of…”
“Fucking clueless?” I supply. I take another bite of pasta because, no matter how much I like Juliet, my stomach is still growling.
“Are you eating? I don’t want to interrupt. I can call back later…”
“Nah.” I shake my head. “Seeing your face is making my day less of a waste.”
Juliet hooks her hair behind her ear and gives me a sheepish smile.
“The apartment is too quiet without you here. There’s no one to turn on the blender at 4:30 in the morning. It’s weird,” she teases.
Warmth fills my chest. “Not to mention there’s no big tall man to help get things down from the kitchen shelves. What have you been doing without me there?”
She blushes. “Eating a lot of takeout. There are clean dishes in the dishwasher that are staying put till you return because they belong in the top cabinets.”
“I expected as much.” I chuckle. “Just don’t get any of your other 6’6” fake fiancés to put the dishes up. I don’t want to share the space.”
“Oh,ha ha. You’re the only impossible bear of a man in my life at this moment.”
We share a look, part humor, part awkwardness. I bite my lower lip.
“So did you have a reason for calling? Is this a booty call?”
“What?” She sits up, looking alarmed. “Hunter!”
“What?” I smirk at her and open a new Gatorade. “A guy can hope.”
Her brow furrows. “You don’t actually do that, do you?”
“What, phone sex?” I consider her words. “No. But for you, I would. We’re breaking all the rules already. What’s a little video work, heavy breathing, and masturbation in the mix?”
She rolls her eyes. “Stop trying to get me all hot and bothered.”
“You called me,” I pointed out. “I can’t control where my mind goes after that.”
“You’re awful.” She pokes her cheek out with her tongue and then admits, “I miss you, though. You’ve been gone too long.”
My first instinct is to tease her again, ask how long it’s been since she’s touched herself. But what comes out of my mouth next surprises even me.
“After my game in Vancouver, come meet me for a weekend away,” I blurt out.
Her eyebrows rise. “A weekend away?”
“Yeah. No cameras, no team events, no reporters. Just... away.”
I don’t know where the idea came from, but suddenly I need it. Need to be somewhere with her that isn’t tied to hockey or PR or any of the reasons we’re supposed to be together. IneedJuliet to say yes.
“Where were you thinking?”
“I know a place. A cabin up north. Nothing fancy, but it’s quiet.”
She studies my face for a moment, probably trying to figure out what brought this on. But all she says is, “Okay. That sounds nice.”
