Beautiful Player
Page 78
“It’s always different at first,” she said. “It’s called infatuation, and it will make you promise anything.”
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t been infatuated with a woman before; I had. But I’d always kept my head about me, knowing how to let myself take as much as I could physically, while taking the emotional side more slowly, or pushing it aside entirely. What was it about Hanna that made me want to shed that model and dive straight to the bottom, where things were the most tender and terrifying?
Hanna returned, smiling at me before sitting down and taking a sip of her drink. She coughed and looked up at me, eyes wide and watery as if her throat were on fire.
“Right,” I said, laughing. “Maddie makes the drinks on the strong side. I should have warned you.”
“Keep drinking,” Bennett advised. “It gets easier once your throat is numb.”
“That’s what he said,” Chloe quipped.
Max’s laugh boomed across the table, and I rolled my eyes, hoping Hanna stayed oblivious to their banter.
She seemed to be, taking another sip and coming out of it with a more normal reaction. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Holy crap, you guys must feel like you’re watching someone have her first drink. I promise you I drink sometimes, just—”
“Just not very capably,” I finished, laughing.
Below the table, Hanna’s palm covered my knee and slid up to my thigh. She found my hand there and curled her fingers around it.
“I remember the first drink I ever had,” Sara said, shaking her head. “I was fourteen, and I went up to the bar at my cousin’s wedding. I ordered a Coke, and the woman next to me ordered a Coke but with some kind of booze in it. I accidentally took hers and went back to my table. I had no idea what was wrong with my drink and why it tasted so funny, but let me tell you it was the first time this white girl ever tried to bust out some break-dancing moves.”
We all laughed, particularly of the image of sweet, reserved Sara doing the robot or some spin drunk. Once our humor died down, it seemed as though our thoughts all drifted to the same topic, because we all turned to Chloe almost in unison.
“How’s the wedding planning going?” I asked.
“You know, Will,” she said, wearing a sly smile. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever asked about the wedding.”
“I spent four days in Vegas with these sad bastards.” I nodded to Bennett and Max. “It’s not like I don’t know it’s happening. Do you want me to tie ribbons on the flower arrangements or some shit?”
“No,” she said, laughing. “And the planning is going . . . fine.”
“Mostly,” Bennett muttered.
“Mostly,” Chloe agreed. They shared a knowing look and she started laughing again, leaning into his shoulder.
“What does that mean?” Sara asked. “Is this about the caterer again?”
“No,” Bennett said, before taking a sip of his beer. “The caterer is settled.”
“Thank God,” Chloe interjected.
Bennett continued, “It’s just unbelievable the things that families do around weddings. All kinds of drama comes out of the woodwork. Swear to God, if we manage to pull this off without a quadruple homicide we will both deserve a f**king medal.”
Reflexively, I gripped Hanna’s hand tighter.
After a small pause, she squeezed back, turning to look at me. Her eyes searched mine, and then lightened into a little smile.
I was thinking about her, and me. I was thinking about her family, and how, over the past twelve years, they’d become my surrogate east coast family, and how in this tiny desperate breath I could even see this future—falling in love, getting married, deciding to start a family—for myself down the road.
I released her hand rubbing my palm on my thigh and feeling my pulse explode in my neck. Holy f**k, what happened to my life? In only a couple of months, almost everything had changed.
Well, not everything. My friends were still the same, my finances were fine. I still ran (almost) daily, still caught basketball on TV whenever I could. But . . .
I’d fallen in love. How often does anyone see that coming?
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I whispered. “Just . . .” I couldn’t say anything. We’d agreed on just-friends. I’d told her it was what I wanted, too. “It’s just crazy to see friends going through this,” I said, gesturing to Chloe and Bennett, covering myself up that way. “I totally can’t relate.”
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t been infatuated with a woman before; I had. But I’d always kept my head about me, knowing how to let myself take as much as I could physically, while taking the emotional side more slowly, or pushing it aside entirely. What was it about Hanna that made me want to shed that model and dive straight to the bottom, where things were the most tender and terrifying?
Hanna returned, smiling at me before sitting down and taking a sip of her drink. She coughed and looked up at me, eyes wide and watery as if her throat were on fire.
“Right,” I said, laughing. “Maddie makes the drinks on the strong side. I should have warned you.”
“Keep drinking,” Bennett advised. “It gets easier once your throat is numb.”
“That’s what he said,” Chloe quipped.
Max’s laugh boomed across the table, and I rolled my eyes, hoping Hanna stayed oblivious to their banter.
She seemed to be, taking another sip and coming out of it with a more normal reaction. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Holy crap, you guys must feel like you’re watching someone have her first drink. I promise you I drink sometimes, just—”
“Just not very capably,” I finished, laughing.
Below the table, Hanna’s palm covered my knee and slid up to my thigh. She found my hand there and curled her fingers around it.
“I remember the first drink I ever had,” Sara said, shaking her head. “I was fourteen, and I went up to the bar at my cousin’s wedding. I ordered a Coke, and the woman next to me ordered a Coke but with some kind of booze in it. I accidentally took hers and went back to my table. I had no idea what was wrong with my drink and why it tasted so funny, but let me tell you it was the first time this white girl ever tried to bust out some break-dancing moves.”
We all laughed, particularly of the image of sweet, reserved Sara doing the robot or some spin drunk. Once our humor died down, it seemed as though our thoughts all drifted to the same topic, because we all turned to Chloe almost in unison.
“How’s the wedding planning going?” I asked.
“You know, Will,” she said, wearing a sly smile. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever asked about the wedding.”
“I spent four days in Vegas with these sad bastards.” I nodded to Bennett and Max. “It’s not like I don’t know it’s happening. Do you want me to tie ribbons on the flower arrangements or some shit?”
“No,” she said, laughing. “And the planning is going . . . fine.”
“Mostly,” Bennett muttered.
“Mostly,” Chloe agreed. They shared a knowing look and she started laughing again, leaning into his shoulder.
“What does that mean?” Sara asked. “Is this about the caterer again?”
“No,” Bennett said, before taking a sip of his beer. “The caterer is settled.”
“Thank God,” Chloe interjected.
Bennett continued, “It’s just unbelievable the things that families do around weddings. All kinds of drama comes out of the woodwork. Swear to God, if we manage to pull this off without a quadruple homicide we will both deserve a f**king medal.”
Reflexively, I gripped Hanna’s hand tighter.
After a small pause, she squeezed back, turning to look at me. Her eyes searched mine, and then lightened into a little smile.
I was thinking about her, and me. I was thinking about her family, and how, over the past twelve years, they’d become my surrogate east coast family, and how in this tiny desperate breath I could even see this future—falling in love, getting married, deciding to start a family—for myself down the road.
I released her hand rubbing my palm on my thigh and feeling my pulse explode in my neck. Holy f**k, what happened to my life? In only a couple of months, almost everything had changed.
Well, not everything. My friends were still the same, my finances were fine. I still ran (almost) daily, still caught basketball on TV whenever I could. But . . .
I’d fallen in love. How often does anyone see that coming?
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I whispered. “Just . . .” I couldn’t say anything. We’d agreed on just-friends. I’d told her it was what I wanted, too. “It’s just crazy to see friends going through this,” I said, gesturing to Chloe and Bennett, covering myself up that way. “I totally can’t relate.”
