Chapter 21

TWENTY-ONE

Anders

I stop to buy flowers and champagne before I pick up Claudia. I’d reached out to Johan about a housewarming gift, and he said they didn’t need anything but I figured flowers and a nice bottle of champagne were a polite touch. As much as I would have liked to buy flowers for Claudia, she wouldn’t have anywhere to keep them since we were going to dinner and then back to my place.

In my head, I’ve got the next couple of days planned out.

Tonight, we’ll be with our friends, hanging out as a couple.

Tomorrow, we’ll go pick up Hana and I’ll drop the two of them off at some outlet mall they’re dying to go to. Once they finish shopping, I’ve made reservations at a restaurant on the beach for the two of us. It’s upscale and pricey, with a gorgeous view of the water, where we can watch the sunset if the weather cooperates. Afterward, I’ll leave it up to her if she wants to go dancing or for a walk on the beach after we eat.

On Saturday, Aiden and I picked up tickets to a comedy club, and he’s planning to ask Hana if she wants to go. That way, Claudia and I can be together, but she can spend time with Hana too.

Aiden seemed happy to have an excuse to spend time with Hana when I brought it up, so I’d gone ahead and made plans.

Hopefully, Claudia won’t mind.

I want to show her I’m interested in more than just sex, and that I want to spend time with her.

“Hi!” She tosses a backpack into the back and jumps into my Corvette before I can get out to help her.

“Hey.” I lean over to kiss her and forget all about being a gentleman. “Mmm, you taste good.”

“New lip gloss. It’s pina colada flavored.”

“I like it. I might have to spend all night kissing you.”

“That’s fine with me.”

We smile at each other for a moment, enjoying that ever-present spark of electricity, before I tamp it down, put the car in drive, and pull forward.

“I bought flowers for Sloane, and champagne for Johan,” I say. “That’s an acceptable gift for a pseudo-housewarming where the hosts specifically tell you not to buy anything for the house, right?”

She chuckles. “I haven’t been to many housewarming parties, so I think so. If nothing else, it’s very thoughtful.”

“I’m a thoughtful guy.” I grin. “Well, most of the time.”

“I’ve found you to be incredibly thoughtful.” She rests a hand on my thigh, and I slide mine into it.

“I do try. My mother would expect nothing less.”

“Are you close to your parents?”

“Yes. I mean, they live thousands of miles away and I’m only home for a month or two in the off-season, but Dad comes for the yearly Dads’ trip, and they almost always come for Christmas. It’s changed a little now that my sister has kids, but they’re all coming this year.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely.”

“What about you? You sound close to your parents.”

She nods. “Absolutely. I’m living at home again now, even though I hope to be able to move out within a year. I’m trying to decide if I want to move into an apartment or start saving so I can buy something.”

“I guess it depends on your goals,” I say. “If you need your privacy, moving out is probably best, but if you don’t care about that and living with your parents isn’t a hassle, I think saving for either a house or the proverbial rainy day is more important.”

“No, my parents are pretty chill. Mom says she’ll cook during the week but I’m on my own on the weekends.” She laughs. “And that’s fair.”

“Do you cook?”

“I do. I mean, I’m no Gordon Ramsay, but I won’t starve.”

“What’s your best dish?”

She pauses, chewing her lip. “I think my beef stroganoff is pretty fantastic. And the irony of that is—my dad hates it!”

“Who hates beef stroganoff? It’s creamy meat deliciousness. With rice or noodles or whatever. What is there to hate?”

“Right? My mom and I have been having that same conversation with him my entire life.”

We laugh together.

“Well, the good news is, it’s one of my favorites so you’re welcome to cook it for me any time.”

“Saturday night?”

“What?” He looks confused.

“Do you want me to make it for you on Saturday night? I’ll even feed Felix if he promises to go out afterward and give us some privacy.”

A woman who enjoys giving head and can cook?

Yup, I’m in trouble.

“That sounds amazing,” I say. “Except we’ll have to eat somewhat early. I picked up tickets to see a comedy show, which starts at eight. I was going to surprise you, but if you’d rather not go, I’m sure I can offload the tickets to someone on the team.”

“Oh, not at all. That sounds fun! I’ll get it started early, and we can eat around six. That should give us plenty of time. Do you have a crockpot, or should I borrow one from Sloane? She was joking the other day about how they have three of them now that they’ve combined households and she barely uses one, much less three.”

“I don’t, but I can buy one,” I suggest. “Especially if there’s a chance you might cook for me again.”

“Anytime we’re together,” she nods. “I like to cook. I find it relaxing.”

“That’s how I feel about grilling. Felix hates it, says the smoke gives him asthma.”

“How can someone with asthma be a pro athlete?” she asks.

“Felix is a hypochondriac,” I respond. “Legit. He’s always worried about getting skin cancer or IBS or a brain tumor. If he gets an itch on his elbow, he’s immediately convinced it’s psoriasis or something. I love the guy—truly, he’s good people—but he’s a hot mess.”

“I think we’re all some version of a mess. I mean, my sexual trauma, your experience with your ex…we all have things from our pasts that shape the people we are today.”

“Do you think what happened with my ex has changed me?” I ask curiously.

“Well, I didn’t know you before, and I’m no psychologist, but realistically, it had to. Were you less inclined to date after it happened? Do you keep your condoms locked up in a safe place to avoid that happening again, when you bring women home now?”

“Well, just to be clear, I don’t bring women to my place unless we’re in a relationship, and I haven’t been in one since then, so I’m not sure about the condom thing. I always bring my own if I’m going to hook up with someone, but I did that before too. And I was probably a little less interested in dating in the aftermath, but I think that’s normal whenever you have a big breakup. Isn’t it?”

She shrugs. “You’re asking the wrong person. I’ve had one serious boyfriend, and I swore off men completely after what happened. I’m absolutely a little bit broken.”

“I don’t think you’re broken at all,” I say slowly, glancing over at her. “You’re nervous, which is completely understandable in your situation, but it feels like we’re getting past it. And while, yes, I’ve probably been a little more cautious than I was before, what happened with Martika isn’t going to keep me from getting involved with you.”

She’s quiet for what feels like a long time.

But then she smiles and squeezes my hand. “It’s like we were waiting for each other to help mend our broken pieces.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

She has to be part witch because not only can she read my mind, but it’s also been less than a week and I’m legit falling for her.

“Do you believe in instalove?” I ask, even as I mentally grimace at saying the word instalove out loud. I’ll be laughed out of the locker room if the guys ever find out.

“Not really.” She shakes her head. “But this…well, you’re making me rethink a lot of things I thought I believed.”

She’s on the same page.

And it feels fucking amazing.

“Tell me about it.”

“Are we crazy?”

Probably, but I don’t give a shit so I’m not going to tell her that.

“For having feelings and throwing caution to the wind so we can fall in love? Maybe. But it feels too good to stop. At least it does for me.”

She’s quiet again, but it feels more thoughtful than anything else, like she’s mulling it over in that big, brilliant brain of hers.

“So…what do we do?” she asks after a while.

That might be a million-dollar question, but I opt to keep my answer simple.

“Enjoy the journey?”

“Have you been talking to Hana?” she asks playfully.

“Why? Is that the advice she’s given you?”

“Basically.”

“Maybe she’s right.”

“Okay, but no broken hearts, dammit. Promise?”

“Believe me, that’s not part of my plan.”

“Promise.”

I have no idea how I can make a promise like that, but it sounds really important to her, so I do it anyway.

“I promise.”