Chapter 7
Seventy-five.
I study my pathetic score on the screen and inwardly groan. Team Selina and Bruce went down in flames, thanks to my hideous bowling skills.
I have so many lowlights it’s hard to register them all. Of course, falling flat on my ass gets the gold star, but having the kids in the lane next ask me if I needed some bowling tips was a strong second. Oh, and the fact that they paused their game to watch the “lady who fell on her butt” every time it was my turn to bowl is another stellar gem.
JP stands next to me and puts his arm across the tops of my shoulders.
“You know what?” he asks. “Split happens.”
I burst out laughing at his bowling joke, and he joins me.
“Split happens,” I repeat, and then I lose it all over again.
“Victory is ours,” Matt yells.
JP turns around. “Victory was yours from the first frame.”
“Hey!” I cry. “You didn’t know that.”
JP gives me the oh, please look.
“With certainty,” I follow up.
“I knew the second Holly got a strike with her grandma bowl we were going to be torched,” JP says.
Matt snaps a picture of the scoreboards with his iPhone. “I knew I should have ordered more food.”
“Shut up,” JP teases.
The server appears with a bill folder. “I’ll leave this here,” she says, moving to put it on the table.
“No, here,” JP says, reaching into his wallet and handing her his credit card.
“Thank you, I’ll be right back,” she says.
I notice Holly is typing on her phone, and my phone vibrates on the table. I swipe it and see she’s sent me a text:
Look at the first comment underneath the pic:
I see Matt has posted his pic to Instagram, along with another of JP hugging me underneath our scoreboard. He tagged me and JP with this hashtag: #splithappens.
I read the first comment:
CiCiHunter: I see someone has finally noticed The Swiss One
Gah! CiCi Hunter is the girlfriend of Dallas Demons’ owner Peter Deveraux. She’s also the mother of Nate Johansson’s fiancée, Kenley Hunter. Holly affectionately calls her “my Dallas mom.”
Now she’s pointed out to the world my interest in The Swiss One.
I pray JP doesn’t see the comment.
Why is it I can fall flat on my ass in front of JP and not care, but the idea of him knowing I’m interested, even when it’s obvious, scares me?
I need a therapist.
“The Swiss One,” Matt says, interrupting my thoughts. “JP, CiCi has coined you The Swiss One. You just wait, you’ll be coming to lunches during the season with me now.”
“What?” JP asks, wrinkling his brow. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m The Blond One,” Matt explains. “When CiCi gives you a name, you become one of her interests.”
“Where are you getting this?” JP asks.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I might have put something up on Instagram,” Matt says casually.
“If you called me a loser, I’ll check your ass on the ice tomorrow,” JP teases as he picks up his phone.
I cringe as JP taps the Instagram icon on his phone.
I wonder if there’s any chance Instagram might suddenly go down.
JP begins to read, and nope, no such luck of an outage.
I hold my breath as I watch him. JP doesn’t want serious. Would the fact that people in public are commenting on my interest in him freak him out?
I don’t think it would.
But it could.
Couldn’t it?
JP smiles at the screen and puts his phone away.
“So, what’s next?” he asks casually.
What? No comment?
In fact, he seems happy, with a smile on his face.
My interest in him is a good thing.
“We,” Holly says, taking off her bowling shoes and interrupting my thoughts, “have to go home and tend to our diabetic cat.”
“Aww, Puck,” I say. “I love that cat.”
“Are you a cat person?” JP asks.
“You’re asking Catwoman if she is a cat person?” I tease.
JP grins. “Obviously a cat person.”
“Cats are fantastic,” Matt says, slipping his regular shoes back on. “I never knew how much until I got Puck.”
“He’s our fur baby,” Holly adds. “I can’t imagine our house without him. If Puck wasn’t the perfect name for him, a close second would be Shadow, because he’s always following Matt if he’s home.”
I sit down and begin to untie my shoes, and JP takes a seat next to me. His muscular thigh brushes against mine like it has every time we sat together tonight, and I feel that same zip of excitement as if it’s happening for the first time.
“I want a tuxedo cat,” I say. “Black and white so I can name him Oreo.”
“You take this Oreo obsession way too far,” Holly teases.
“I think it would be cute.” I slip out of my shoes and reach for my kicks. “What about you, JP? Are you in the Cat Club?”
“There’s an official Cat Club?” JP asks as he laces up his shoes.
I pause for a moment as I study his shoes. They are super hip, taupe suede sneakers. JP is, without a doubt, the most fashionable man I’ve ever been around.
“I’m in love with your shoes,” I say to JP.
“Thanks,” JP says. “These are my Tod’s. I have a thing for shoes.”
“Me, too,” I say. “I love shoes, and those shoes,” I say, inclining my head toward them, “are fantastic.”
“Sounds like Shoe Club more than Cat Club,” Matt says.
“Right, I was going to explain that,” I say. “Sorry, I got distracted by the shoes. Several Dallas Demons now have cats. Matt got one. My sister, Jordan, has two, and since she’s the in-arena hostess for the Demons, she’s in the Cat Club.”
“Filip has one,” Holly adds, referring to the Demons’ forward.
“Filip has a Maine Coon that has his own Connectivity account,” Matt says. “That cat is huge, in size and followers.”
“Alexander has one,” JP says aloud, referring to his defensive partner from last season, “but dogs still outnumber cats on the team.”
“Are you a potential candidate for membership in the Cat Club?” I ask JP, lifting an eyebrow at him. “Maybe help even the score?”
“I like cats. I would consider it.”
Bonus points for JP.
The server comes back with JP’s card, and we gather our stuff to leave.
We head out into the hot September night. Even though the sun has set, the temperature is still in the 90’s.
I stop on the sidewalk and give Holly and Matt hugs goodbye.
“See you in class tomorrow, right?” Holly asks, referring to our crack of dawn barre class.
Oh, crap. Barre is going to be brutal tomorrow.
“Yes,” I say, nodding. I need to get back on my workout routine, even if it’s torture to do so.
“See you at the rink around eleven,” Matt says to JP.
They leave, and now it’s just me and JP.
Which makes me feel both excited and nervous.
Is our evening over?
Or could there be more?
JP turns to me. “I had fun tonight.”
“Even though I cost you the game with my crappy bowling?”
“We’ll have to practice, that’s all.”
He’s alluding to more.
JP barely knows me. He hasn’t come close to kissing me.
But he already knows he wants more time with me.
Normally, this would make me run. A guy is already seeing a next week in his future, and we haven’t even had an official first date yet? No, thank you.
But this time, my feet are still.
“Practice?” I ask, testing him.
“You need bowling lessons,” JP says. “I offer them at a very affordable rate if you’re interested.”
Oh, I’m interested.
“Talk details.”
“Free.”
I can’t help but grin. “Free? Do you offer these to anyone for a loss, Batman, or am I special?”
“Only you.”
Oh!
JP clears his throat. “Um, Reese?”
Anticipation zips through me. “Yes?”
“I’m not ready for this night to be over.”
My heart slams against my ribs. “Oh?”
“No,” JP says. “Are you?”
“No,” I say.
A slow smile spreads across his face, one so beautiful I melt inside.
“Good. I have an idea, and I think you’ll like it. Do you trust me?”
Then he extends his hand to me, waiting for me to put my hand in his.
I give him my hand, and he laces his strong fingers through it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Yes, I do,” I answer softly.
While I have no idea what I’m saying yes to, I don’t care.
I’m throwing caution to the wind, as normally my brain would be searching for an exit at this point.
But I’m not.
All I know is that I want more time with JP tonight.
The opportunity is here.
And I’m taking it.