Page 48 of Caught Up In You (Indigo Royal Resort)
“Should I be weirded out that you know my schedule?” she asked with a giggle.
“Vaughn happened to mention it when I asked him about today,” he answered with a shrug.
“I think I might need to talk to my boss about pimping me out.”
“Well, I am a VIP guest,” he said, mocking arrogance. “So, what do you say?”
“I can probably fit you into my schedule,” she teased back.
Cullen was up with the sun on Saturday morning, taking advantage of the quiet for a run on the beach. After returning home and relaxing on the patio, he started to realize just how tired he was from his non-stop schedule since arriving at St. Thomas and spent most of Saturday napping. The breeze off the back side of his villa had been a nice calm one, only showing up sporadically, enough to provide a bit of a respite from the hot sun now and then. It had been nice to have a day to himself, to be alone with his thoughts. He hadn’t put near as much thought into the Atlanta offer as he should have and he knew he owed Oliver a call. But now just wasn’t the time. He knew Oliver would ask how camp was and try to get him to cut the trip short now that it was over, and that was the last thing Cullen wanted. He couldn’t tell Oliver about how things had changed with Leona. Hell, Oliver didn’t know there even was a Leona, much less there were things that could change, and he wasn’t about to launch into an explanation today.
Pulling out his phone, he found Gunnar Gracin’s number and sent him a text, telling him to call whenever he had a moment. He knew his old buddy was busy—youth academies had a ton of moving parts. Not to mention, Cullen wasn’t entirely sure what his old friend would be doing this time of night.
His phone rang almost as soon as he sent the text, not even giving his phone the chance to time out and have the screensaver come up.
“Old man, how’s it hanging?” Cullen answered the phone, using the greeting Gracin had become known for using. He’d heard it as a teenager watching American movies, trying to learn English, and had been unaware of the double entendre of the statement. So when someone in the locker room had found it humorous to answer with a statement actually regarding their junk, Gracin had been so bewildered, even after an explanation, that it had quickly become a running joke.
“Unused,” the Croatian chuckled. His accent had all but disappeared after so many years in the UK, but every now and again the slight hint of it would come out when he was tired. “I imagine that is a problem you will never have, Cruz.”
“May I be so lucky. What time is it there? I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Late-ish. Not sure if I should be offended that you think I would be asleep on a Saturday night rather than out living it up.”
“Well, did I disrupt you?”
“No, I’m in the office,” he laughed at the irony. “The lads had a game this afternoon and I’m working up some reviews for Monday’s practice. Where are you?”
“I’m on my annual pilgrimage to the Virgin Islands. Spent the last two weeks running a skills camp down here.”
“I think I heard something about that,” Gracin said. Cullen could hear the squeak of a chair through the phone and could see his old teammate sitting back in his desk chair. “How’d you like being on the other side of things?”
“I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t doubt that at all. You were always good with the trainees. Always knew who could and couldn’t hack it.”
“Thanks, man,” Cullen said, appreciative of his friend's kind words. “That’s, in a way, why I’m calling.”
“I knew there had to be some other reason the great and powerful Cullen Cruz was calling, other than just to see what my lame ass was up to,” Gracin said, laughing again.
“I care quite a bit about your lame ass, thank you. Just in this moment, I also have other concerns.”
“If you’re looking for advice on life after retirement, then let me impart my wisdom,” he offered.
Gracin only had a handful of years on Cullen in the age department but had retired from the game around ten years ago in his early thirties. After a car accident, it was discovered that his wife Anya had a rare blood disease. The doctors told them that while plenty of people lived for years with this condition, more often than not one did not see their fortieth birthday. Gracin had made the decision right then and there to retire as soon as the season was over to spend every moment he could with her. While Cullen knew Gracin missed playing, he also knew that no part of his buddy regretted his decision to leave it, even after Anya passed away three years later.
“I get the impression that is going to require plenty of Irish whiskey,” Cullen laughed.
“Probably.” Gracin let out another hearty laugh. “So, to what do I owe the honor?”
“There is a kid who has been at this clinic for the last two weeks, and he’s good. He’s thirteen and little, but good. And I don’t just mean for his age, Gracin. I mean the kid is fucking good, period. He can almost keep up with me.”
“Well, you are not what you once were, Cruz, pardon the criticism. None of us are. Happens when you reach a certain age.”
“You would know, old man,” Cruz joked back.
“Better than most, it feels like some days,” Gracin said. “So, kid is good. What team does he play for down there? Not that I would know any of them.”
“A recreational one. Hopes to make the junior high team this year.”
