Page 63 of Three Pucking Words
I turn to him. “Haveyoudone drugs?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “I dabbled. If you ever see the photos my parents have in their house, you’d see I was a bit of a stoner. When I went to college, I tried other things until I almost lost my athletic scholarship when they did a drug test on me. My coach told me I needed to get my act together if I was serious about going pro, so I stopped smoking and rarely went to parties where my friends would offer me shit.”
It isn’t that I’m judging him as I stare dubiously at the man. I can’t picture him doing anything illegal. Not that marijuana is illegal in New York. But still.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he questions, draping his arms causally across his chest. “Did I tarnish my good reputation in your eyes? It’s been years since I’ve touched anything. I’ll have a beer here in there, maybe a shot if I’m out and Gemma is with her grandparents, but I’ve calmed down a lot. I’ve had to. I used to go a little too hard when I was younger or if I had a lot on my mind. I realized I needed to stop depending on alcohol to make me forget things and face them head on instead.”
I saw firsthand how he’d coped with draft beers and some sort of mixed concoctions that night at the bar. Was that the last time he’d ever gotten drunk? I don’t ask, because then I’d have to admit that we’ve met before. If he doesn’t remember, what’s the point in bringing it up?
I respect that he wants to change for his daughter—to be better. And for his career, too, obviously. I know the guys all go through random drug testing throughout the season. From what Karina has said, it’s been a couple years since someone was suspended for doping.
I had to google what that meant.
“Anyway,” he goes on, moving the topic away from his previous extracurricular activities as a college student. “It wasn’t hard to get the brownies through security. They took it out of my backpack like I was either planning to eat the entire thing by myself or do harm via Betty Crocker. Apparently, a square block is triggering to their scanners.”
I smile. “They thoughtyouwere smuggling drugs, you former delinquent.”
He chuckles. “I’m pretty sure they wanted to take it away, but I explained that I needed it to impress a pretty girl on the flight.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks and settles there.
His grin stretches. “Thankfully, they let me keep it. So, hopefully it works. But I have a few other recipes up my sleeves in case you’re not thoroughly impressed by this one. What’s your favorite dessert?”
I’m more of a savory girl over a sweets person, but I gravitate to chocolate more times than not these days. “Brownies are, actually.”
His smile stretches. “It’s a good thing I didn’t go with my first idea. Almost brought you an entire container of chocolate chip cookies. Here’s the real question. Are you a corner or a middle piece kind of girl?”
“Middle,” I answer easily. “The edges are the first things to get hard before the middle is totally done.”
All he does is hum, and something flashes in his eyes.
“What?” I scoff when I see his lips twitch at the corners. “Let me guess. You’re an edge person. Typical.”
“You can say that.” Why does he sound so amused?
I’m clearly missing something. “Do I even want to know what you’re thinking?”
Bodhi shakes his head, readjusting in his seat and clearing his throat. “No. Definitely not.”
Okay then.
He looks down at the brownies, then back up to me. “So are you happy?”
Right. These are supposed to make me less sad. Not that I’m sad. Irritated with my ex-husband, sure. Mad at myself for being irritated with my ex-husband, definitely. But not sad.
For a brief moment, this made me forget about why I felt that way to begin with. Bodhi has that magical effect on me.
Unfortunately, the reminder of Max’s unanswered text makes me frown, which causes Bodhi to nudge my arm with his. “What’s the face for?”
I don’t necessarilywantto tell him. But if we really are friends, which I think we are since my gut isn’t screaming at me to demand other seating, then I should tell him about Max.
“My ex reached out to me last night,” I admit. His eyes are on me, and I try not to squirm under their curious scrutiny. “It was a bit jarring to say the least.”
One of Bodhi’s hands on his lap starts clenching and unclenching. “Did he do something to you?”
That’s putting it mildly. “You can say that. Max…” I think about how to put this. “Max and I were opposites, and they say opposites attract. I think that was true for a little while. It worked until it didn’t, mostly because I let a lot of things slide early on that I shouldn’t have.”
Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I let that soak in. There were a lot of things Max did that hurt me, but I let them go to save face. To save ourmarriage. A lot of good that did.
