Page 308 of Seasons of Love
It’s not like we were going to spend the day together or anything.
Light snow has started falling again.
My stomach feels weird like I’m hungry but not. I stand again and walk to the fridge, opening and then closing it because I don’t see anything I feel like eating.
“What the fuck is happening to me?”
Is this because of Ben? All the memories coming back? Is it because I didn’t finish my conversation with Bubble?
Curtis.
I like his real name. It’s such a grown-up name. He’s right. It doesn’t fit him the way Bubble does. I can’t help feeling like sometimes Curtis wants to come out, but Bubble works hard to hide that part of himself.
My coffee maker starts spluttering into the pot, making me jump. I forgot I put it on a timer earlier so I’d have fresh coffee for lunch.
I look outside again, and the snow is coming down heavier. Bubble is dragging his huge suitcase down the cabin stairs with the big guy behind him.
What the fuck? How can he go anywhere in this snow?
He’s going to get stuck somewhere, or worse, crash into a tree or ditch.
I slip my boots back on and run over to him.
“Where are you going?”
“Joseph, Mary, baby Jesus, and the three shepherds, Coach. Can you not jump a guy like that? I have a skin routine, and this has aged me at least a week.”
I do a double-take at all the stuff he says and proceed to ignore it because he needs to see sense.
“You can’t go anywhere in this weather.”
“That’s what we’ve been telling him,” the tall guy says. “But he’s adamant he’s leaving. We’ve offered for him to stay in the spare room. The kids can share the couch.”
I hold out my hand. “I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Riley.”
“Harrison. Pleasure to meet you.”
I nod. “Harrison, are there any hotels or places where Bubble can stay so he doesn’t have to drive all the way to Windsor?”
“No. That’s what I was telling him. The next town is Stillwater, where we’ve just come from, and the roads were already getting too dangerous, even for those who know them well.”
Bubble waves at me. “Hello? I’m here and can hear you. Thank you. I’m also an adult and can make my own decisions.”
“What if the decisions you make are stupid ones?” I say, my voice rising. “Are we supposed to stand by and let you get on the road and kill yourself?”
“Pfft”—he waves me off—“I’m too pretty to die young. God wouldn’t do that to me. Besides, what do you suggest? Would you like to share your bed with me?”
I stare at him. He takes a step forward, coming close enough that I can once again smell strawberries. “I’ll be the little spoon if you want.”
His eyes are filled with challenge. What he doesn’t know is that he’s challenging the most competitive person he’ll ever meet. I wasn’t the Marinos coach for nothing.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”
14
BUBBLE
Coach grabs the handle of my suitcase, picks it up like it weighs nothing, and starts walking to his cabin.
