Page 63 of Strictly for Now

I mean, no. And he almost certainly knows that. I just like teasing him. It feels good. Normal.

This flirting makes me feel like a woman.

Not really. I just read that a woman shouldn’t make herself too available to a guy. – Mackenzie

You been reading those 1980s issues of Vogue again, Hunter? – Eli

Ah, you got me. Tomorrow I’m starting the grapefruit diet. – Mackenzie

Don’t change a thing about that beautiful body of yours. I’ve been fantasizing about it all day – Eli

It’s been thinking about you, too. When it’s not aching. Or chafing. – Mackenzie

Chafing? Ouch. You should follow the cure for that in the April 1982 edition. – Eli

I left that one at home. What does it say? – Mackenzie

Sex. – Eli

Just one word? That’s poor writing. Also, they must have used big type. – Mackenzie

I’m paraphrasing. But also happy to volunteer as tribute. – Eli

Shut up. I’m busy. – Mackenzie

Meet me at seven? – Eli

You forgot to ask nicely. – Mackenzie

Please. – Eli

Ah, I’m a sucker for a guy with good manners. They make the most considerate lovers according to the December 1988 edition. – Mackenzie

Shut up. I’m busy. – Eli

I wish I could see his face. But this office doesn’t have a view of the rink, where I assume he’s watching practice. Part of me – the part that I know Rachel would approve of – tries to think of an excuse to go down there.

I could annoy him with some new towels. Or push his patience by talking to Goran about the new blend he brought me today. Which was actually delicious. The coffee shop on the corner apparently changes its guest blend monthly.

But then my phone rings, and I’m brought back down to earth with a bump.

“Hi Dad,” I say.

“Hi sweetheart. Did you talk to Gramps? We need to make some plans.”

I push those lovely thoughts of handsome hockey players with senses of humor from my mind and try not to sigh.

“Yes,” I tell him. “He’s excited. Let me grab a pen and we’ll talk.”

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

ELI

“What’s going on? Why haven’t you all gone home?” I ask Goran. Half of them are still in the locker room despite the fact I told them to call it a day an hour ago. I check my watch. It’s almost six-thirty. I have things to do.

Telling them about the exhibition match was a mistake. I should have saved that little bombshell for tomorrow. They’ve all been behaving like overexcited kids, trying to guess who’ll be playing on the All-Star team, and then pretending to beat them.

It’s exhausting.

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