I shrug. “I’ve been tired lately. Don’t want to add alcohol to the mix when I’m already a yawn factory.” I cover my mouth with my hand and yawn so wide and so hard it brings tears to my eyes.
“Oooh, late night chats with Hottie McDaddy?”
“Actually.” I arch a brow.
She stops browsing the menu to look at me. “Wait. I thought you said the sexy times were over.”
“They are.” I poke at my ice cubes with my straw.
“But?” Paxton prompts.
“Queenie’s birthday is coming up, and I’m planning to fly to Seattle for the party. Jake called last night and invited me to stay at his place.”
She sets her glass down and gives me her full attention. “You mean as friends? What did you say?”
“I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea.”
“Would it really be so bad if you had one last, last roll in the hay with him?” She wiggles her fingers and smiles like a villain.
I chuckle and then sigh. “I don’t know if I could limit myself to one last roll, which is the problem. When I first met Jake, Queenie made some sort of comment about how well he and I got along, and Ryan told her that his family was already messy and not to go planting seeds. It was innocent enough, but I can’t see him being okay with it.”
“But you still want to sleep with Jake.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want. It’s a colossally bad idea to continue sleeping with Ryan’s father-in-law.”
“When you put it that way.” Paxton makes a face. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. I really would have loved another weekend of hot sex with a guy whose number I didn’t need to lose.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I Can’t be Reading that Right
Hanna
WORK IS INCREDIBLY busy in the weeks leading up to Queenie’s birthday party. With the promotion on the table, I’m pulling longer hours and taking on more responsibilities. I end up having to move my flight to Seattle to the morning of the party, thanks to an unexpected audit on one of my bigger clients. It means I’m up until one in the morning getting all the paperwork in order.
My alarm goes off at the crack of dawn on Saturday morning, my bag already packed for the weekend and waiting at the door. However, I hit the snooze button more than once on account of the exceptionally early hour and am forced to get dressed in a rush. Thankfully, I already programmed my coffee to brew last night, before I went to bed, so I pour a to-go cup, grab a banana, and head for my car. The drive to the airport isn’t long, and I won’t have to contend with rush hour traffic.
I pull onto the freeway and move into the center lane. I take a first sip of my coffee and make a face. My luck with cream has sucked lately. I make a mental note to throw it away when I get home on Sunday. I can grab a fresh cup at the airport.
Unfortunately, I got the time wrong for my flight. It doesn’t leave at eight thirty-five; it leaves at eight oh-five, so I only have minutes to spare once I’m through security to get to my gate. Ryan has upgraded my ticket, but I’m aware that airplane coffee is not the best, even in first class.
I end up passing out—I blame the comfortable seats—and sleep the entire plane ride to Seattle. Thanks to the time change, I still arrive well before noon.
As soon as I step off the plane, my phone blows up with messages. I have a couple from Jake telling me to have a safe flight and to message when I’ve landed. It’s almost disappointing when there’s nothing inappropriate or suggestive in his texts. I fire one off, telling him I’m in Seattle and I can’t wait to see him later.
The group chat with Lainey, Violet, and Stevie is a different story altogether. There must be more than a hundred missed messages in the chat. Ryan is taking Queenie out for the day, so we won’t see her until later at the restaurant. But Ryan, being as thoughtful as he is, has scheduled an afternoon of pampering for the girls and me.
I stop at Ryan’s first, even though he and Queenie have already left, so I can freshen up before the girls pick me up for our afternoon at the spa. We’ll start with massages and facials, then mani-pedis. Queenie has made such wonderful friends here, and I love that they’ve pulled me into their group and adopted me as one of their own.
Stevie, Lainey, and Violet pick me up after I’ve gotten myself settled into what will eventually be a nanny suite, I’m sure. It’s almost like a self-contained apartment on the main floor of the house, and usually where my parents stay when they visit.
Stevie leans over and gives me a side hug as I slide into the back seat. Her hair is a different color every time I see her, and today it’s pale blue. “Yay! I’m so glad you could make it!”
Lainey smiles at me in the rearview mirror. “We were just talking about how nice it would be if you lived closer and we could all see you more often. We’d all gotten used to you being here more than once every three months.”
“When the boys play Tennessee, you’ll all have to come out and visit.” If my whole life wasn’t in Tennessee, including my job and my art studio, I might consider moving this way. But at the same time, NHL players aren’t guaranteed to stay in one place. Ryan is lucky he’s been on the same team for as long as he has, and while his contract is going to keep him in Seattle for the next several years, there’s no saying where he’ll go after that.
“We’ll have to do that before this one gets herself knocked up.” Violet points at Lainey, who is busy driving with her hands at ten and two. Ryan would approve.
“You’re trying to get pregnant again?” I ask. She just had her little girl Aspen not that long ago.
“Kody was a happy accident, but it took forever for me to get pregnant with Aspen.” She smiles slyly and her cheeks go pink. “Not that I mind the trying part, but I don’t want another big gap between Aspen and the next one. And RJ, while accommodating, has said he’d like to have spontaneous sex before the end of this decade.”
“You can say goodbye to spontaneous sex until the kids move out,” Violet says. “Robbie stays up later than me half the time these days, which means zero privacy unless we farm them out to the grandparents.”
“You do realize these conversations are like birth control advertisements, right?” Stevie snickers and pulls up the hockey schedule for the season. “There’s a game in Tennessee in November. Maybe we could come out then, if that works for you?”
“It could definitely work.”
“Is it mid-week or on the weekend?” Vi asks.
“That one is on Friday,” Stevie says.
“Don’t you teach painting classes on the weekends? Are you missing one today?” Lainey asks.
“My friend Paxton is running it solo this weekend,” I explain.
“Maybe we could sit in, so you don’t have to change your schedule. It’d be so much fun to spend a weekend with you in Tennessee.” Lainey smiles warmly.
“I think it’s a great idea.” I really love how easy they all are to be around, and how, even though I don’t see them often, we have such a great time together and I always feel like part of things.
Our conversation is put on pause when we arrive at the spa and go our separate ways for our massage appointments. I almost fall asleep again during my massage, probably because it’s so relaxing. It’s followed by a heavenly facial. Afterwards, we meet up again for our mani-pedis.
Our manicures are first, and once our nails are set, we’re given snack plates and plenty of drink options while our toes get pretty. I have a headache, so I opt for water.
After our pedicures, we’re moved to the lounge, where we’re supposed to wait for our toes to dry. I take the opportunity to make myself a coffee, adding a spoonful of sugar and a smidge of cream. Then I take a small sip. Just like this morning, it tastes sour. I take another sip. Nope. Still tastes wrong.
“Everything okay, Hanna?” Lainey asks.
“Twice today I’ve had coffee that tastes like the cream is off.”
“Want me to give it a taste?”
“
I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if I’m coming down with something?” It’s entirely possible with the way I’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately.
“I can do a cream sniff test?” she offers.
“Sure.” I pass her the tiny pot of cream and she wafts it toward her nose.
“Smells fine to me.”
“Maybe my taste buds are off.”
“Every time I was preggers, three things happened,” Violet says and motions to her chest. “My bras stopped fitting because my boobs turned into giant balloons and I’d punch Alex every time he tried to touch them because they were so sensitive, dairy always tasted funky, and I could sleep like a teenager.”
“Oh! Yes! My boobs were so sore. I couldn’t sleep on my stomach at all,” Lainey says.
“Wow, way to sell me on not getting pregnant any time soon,” Stevie deadpans. She and Bishop have been together for years, but they still haven’t jumped on the baby train. Yet.
I chuckle, but it turns into something like a croak. I covertly press on my chest and cringe at how tender my breasts are. I assumed my body was being its weird self by making it seem like my period was coming. I’ve been having phantom PMS symptoms for the past year, and only once every three months do I actually get a “period.”
I’ve been exhausted lately, sleeping for twelve hours and still feeling like I could sleep longer. And then there’s the coffee.
“Hanna? Are you okay?” Lainey asks.
“I-I don’t know.” I cover my mouth with my palm. “Everything Violet said, that could be me.”
Silence follows, thick and heavy.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m just run down,” I rush on. “I’ve been working long hours at my accounting firm. One of my big clients had an audit, and I’m being considered for a promotion.”
“That’s exciting, about the promotion,” Vi says. “I miss the constant work sometimes, but I like picking and choosing what jobs I want to take.” She’s also an accountant, but she mostly does freelance work.
“I thought it was a good move,” I agree. “But it means late nights and early mornings to keep on top of things, you know?”
“That’s really wonderful about the promotion.” Lainey glances toward the door as she shifts in her seat, turning to face me. It’s the four of us in here. “But is there a chance you could be pregnant?” Her expression is full of gentle concern. It’s very much the way she is, always maternal.
“I don’t know?” I swallow down my uneasiness. “I’ve been perimenopausal for a long while. My periods are irregular, and really short when I do have them.”
Lainey’s smile is soft. “Even during menopause you’re still releasing eggs, and sometimes your body goes a little haywire, so they lose the steady rhythm they once had. Or your cycle can be influenced by others around you.” She motions to Stevie and Violet. “I’m synced up with these ladies because we spend so much time together.”
“What are the odds, though?” I wish I had a paper bag to breathe into.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Stevie says.
I’m not sure if I imagine her suspicion or if I’m being paranoid. “I don’t.” I give my head a shake. “I mean, it’s casual. It’s not a serious relationship. What am I going to do if…” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence. Then it’s far too real.
“It could be that you’re tired, or that your body is following a stronger cycle. Hold on.” Lainey grabs her purse from the floor and roots around in it.
At first I think she’s looking for her phone, as if she’s going to do some research on the subject, but I’m surprised when she pulls out a pregnancy test.
“I’ve been buying these in bulk for years. I carry them with me everywhere.” She rolls her eyes at herself and hands it to me.
“Do you think I should take this now?” I hold it like it’s a dismembered limb, not a tiny device to pee on.
“They’re most accurate when they’re taken in the morning, but false positives aren’t really possible, so if you are pregnant, you’ll know right away. I can stand outside the bathroom door if you want,” she offers.
“It’s okay. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” I push up out of the chair on unsteady legs.
Violet jumps up and takes my arm. She’s a head shorter than me, and a tiny thing, apart from her chest. “We’re all here for you, Hanna,” she says, her voice softening. “Whatever happens, we’ve got your back.”
I appreciate that I have a girl gang to rely on right now. I wish Pax was here. She’s been my go-to forever.
I slip inside the bathroom and lock the door. It’s a nice bathroom, much nicer than the one I was in thirty years ago where I found out for the first time that my entire life was about to change.
I take a deep breath, reminding myself that I’m not a teenage girl. And that I haven’t had a regular period in two years.
There’s no way I can be pregnant.
In less than five minutes I’ll be laughing about my paranoia. And chugging a glass of champagne. Or a bottle.
I unwrap the test and read the instructions. One blue line means not pregnant, two blue lines that cross mean I am pregnant.
Got it.
I take a deep breath and try to force the pee out. Of course, now I’m having pee stage fright. I turn on the tap, hoping it’s going to help me out. It does the trick.
I manage to get my hand as well as the stick, which is gross, but not unexpected considering the day I’m having.
I grab a handful of toilet paper and set the test on the vanity. Then wipe myself and wash my hands, humming “Happy Birthday” twice, all the way through.
I take a deep breath, not wanting to look at the test until the two minutes is up.
I take a quick peek.
Then another one.
Looks like that mimosa is off the table.
CHAPTER NINE
Complicated, Times Two
Jake
I’M STANDING BY the bar, away from the axe throwing enclosures, where all the young kids are. And by young kids, I mean King and Queenie’s friends who have come to celebrate her birthday. For a guy who drives a Volvo and is usually fiscally responsible, he sure does like to go all out for my daughter. I was relieved to find out they don’t allow alcohol in the axe throwing enclosures and they close that part of the restaurant off after ten. The lighting is low and there’s a cozy, homey feel. I can see why King chose this place. The name is even cool—The Knight Cap.
I don’t know what’s going on, but pinning Hanna down is harder than trying to catch a fly with a pair of tweezers tonight. Lainey and Violet are practically glued to her, like they’re her personal bodyguards. I knew things were going to be a little awkward between us, but it feels a lot like she’s purposely avoiding me. Which isn’t what I want. Not when our kids are married and we’ve got a lot of years of shared family functions in our future.
I resorted to texting her about half an hour ago, but I don’t know if she’s carrying her phone at all since all I’ve seen in her hands is a glass of what could be water, or gin and tonic since she’s a fan of those.
“You all right? You’ve been checking your phone all night.” Alex Waters, my head coach and one of my good friends, leans against the bar, sipping a glass of scotch.
“I’m fine, just, uh . . . waiting on a message.”
“Work-related or personal?”
“Personal. If it was work related, you’d already know about it.”
He gives me a casual shrug. “You never know. Could be one of those NDA type deals you can’t tell me anything about.”
“I’d still tell you if something was up. Especially this close to training camp.”
“Okay.” He sips his scotch again. “This personal thing, is it something you need to talk about?”
I give him a look. “What are you now, a therapist in training?”
“Might as well be, with these kids and all their hormones and not knowing th
eir ass from their armpit.” He motions to the group of players milling around the bar.
“They look so damn young, don’t they?” Some of the rookie players still have remnants of teen acne.
“That’s because they are.”
“Not for long, though.” I rub my chin. “It feels like yesterday when I was dealing with midnight feedings and changing diapers, and now Queenie’s in her mid-twenties. I can’t imagine it’s going to be long before she and King start a family either.”
“King definitely gives off a strong family man vibe,” Alex agrees.
“He’ll make a good dad. Shit. I can’t believe this is the kind of conversation I’m having at my daughter’s birthday party.” I run a hand through my hair.
Alex claps me on the shoulder. “As long as you don’t start talking about erectile dysfunction at poker night, I think you’re fine.”
“Screw you.” I shrug off his hand. “I’m in my forties, not cashing my pension checks.”
Alex chuckles. “I’m kidding. And forty is creeping up on me like a bad wedgie.”
“At least you’ll be forty and married. Dating at my age in the twenty-first century is not my favorite.”
“I can’t even imagine trying to meet women now. I’m pretty sure Violet would have taken a restraining order out on my ass if I was trying to get her to fall in love with me now.” He gives me a sympathetic half-smile. “Which begs the question, this personal message you’re waiting for, would it happen to be from a woman? And if so, when the hell did you start dating her and why haven’t you said anything until now?”
Alex is one of the very few people who knows about my dating life. I keep it pretty low profile, mostly because of Queenie. It’s not that I don’t think she can handle me dating someone. In fact, it’s the opposite. My worry is more that she’ll get attached to whomever I’m seeing, and then if it ends, there will be double the disappointment to contend with.
I don’t want to bring women into Queenie’s life who aren’t sticking around, since her mother has been a perpetual abandoner at the worst of times and a shit disturber at the best.
A KISS FOR A KISS Page 7