my phone away now.
“Was she okay when you dropped her off last night?” I ask, and he nods his head. “Did she say anything?”
“Yeah,” he says. “She said that it’s ridiculous that they would offer people drinks and allow them to bid on stuff.” I laugh now, seeing her face in my head. “She also said that the debutants need to get off your dick.”
My eyes light up. “She was thinking about my dick.” I slap him on the shoulder. “I knew she wanted me.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Ralph says. “She also said that you’re gross, and you should be bathing in Purell.”
“Now that,” Manning says. “That’s love.”
“I know.” I agree with him. “I’m going to send her flowers.” I grab my phone. “One thousand roses.” I look at them as their mouths hang open. “Is that overkill?”
“No.” Ralph shakes his head. “Anything less is not even worth it.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” I say, walking away from them as I order them. I walk back into the room and see both of them lacing up their skates. “Order has been placed, boys.”
“To be a fly on the wall,” Manning says. Getting up with his skates, he towers over six feet six. He turns, grabbing his gloves and helmet, and makes his way out to the ice.
Ralph and I follow him a couple of minutes later, and we are all on the ice. It’s not a full roster today since it was optional, but we push the ones who are here hard, and when I walk off the ice, I’m drenched in sweat.
The rookies are still on the ice as I sit down with Ralph beside me, his phone pinging. He grabs it, taking off his gloves and helmet. His head goes back and he laughs. “She didn’t remember.”
“What?” I ask him, grabbing a bottle of Gatorade and gulping it down.
“Layla didn’t remember bidding on you.” He chuckles. “She is going nuts.”
“But did she get the flowers?” I ask him.
“Oh, she got the flowers all right.” He looks at me. “She’s going to make potpourri with them after she shoves them up your ass.”
“That woman loves me.” My chest expands as I take my shirt off. “It’s like elementary school when she says she hates you, but she really secretly loves you.”
I grab my phone and see that I have fifty messages, and I laugh when I scroll and see that they are all from Layla.
Layla: How the hell did you get my number?
I laugh because, for the past four years, she’s been giving me the wrong number every single time.
Layla: Are you out of your fucking mind?
Layla: I’m not going out with you.
Layla: If you look at the picture, it looks like I’m going to vomit.
Layla: I’m not going out with you.
Layla: I’m not going out with you.
She repeats the text over forty times. I put my phone down and go take a shower. When I come out, it looks like Manning and Ralph have left, and I’m alone. After I get dressed and walk out, I head out to my truck and call her once I climb inside.
Just the thought of talking to her makes my heart speed up. She answers after five rings. “What do you want?”
“Good afternoon, gorgeous,” I say, ignoring her snippiness. “How are you doing?”
“How am I doing?” she asks, and I can tell she’s flustered. “I’m not doing good.”
“Are you sick?” I ask as suddenly something in me makes my head spin.
“No, I’m not sick,” she huffs out. “Well, actually, maybe I am sick.” She groans. “Maybe I have a brain tumor, and I don’t even know. I mean, why else would I have done what I did?”
I laugh now. “Or maybe, you actually like me and want to date me, and your subconscious is finally breaking free.”
“No,” she says right away. “I’m going with a brain tumor. I have to go and call my doctor.”
“Gorgeous,” I say softly, and when all I get is silence, I look at the phone to see if she hung up on me or not. “Are you still there?”
“Miller, seriously, all jokes aside, this is a horrible, horrible idea,” she says, and I have to wonder if she’s home, and if she is home, is she sitting down with flowers all around her? Is she in bed, is she naked and thinking about me?
“This is not a horrible idea!” I yell. “This is the best idea that you have ever had.”
“No, it’s not!” she yells back at me.