“He’s a good guy,” she says.
I wave her off. “Tara, he calls himself a southern gentleman who thinks alcohol is the devil’s milk. That’s code for boring control freak. And,” I remind her, lowering my voice again, “Alabama. You know what that means.”
“I don’t know what that means. Enlighten me.” I roll my eyes and shake my head at her.
“Come on. You know.”
“Know what?”
I sigh in frustration. “Never mind. You’re all in love, and your head’s in the clouds.”
“Yes, I am.” She runs a hand through my hair. “I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy. Weren’t you happy before Ethan?”
“I was, and I’m not saying you need a relationship to be happy, but I don’t want you to close yourself off either. At least be open to the idea. Let someone penetrate that wall.”
I cackle at my sister. “Is that what Ethan was just doing to you? Penetrating your walls? Honestly, I’m not closed off to anything. I’m not available now, and Alabama boys need not apply.” I gesture at my body. “Besides, I’m going to Atlanta for a month soon, and Colt is not the one. Trust me. Now, I’m going home. I’m going to order takeout and crack open my laptop. Enjoy your night. And I want you and Alan to come visit me for a few days in Atlanta. You can bring your family.” I know she doesn’t like to go far without Ethan and Vincent.
I give her a tight hug and walk out, taking the short walk to my apartment building. The wine in my fridge isn’t as good as the stuff at my parents', but it will have to do.
I order Alexa to play soft music while I change into a pair of black yoga pants and a light blue t-shirt. By the time I turn on my laptop, my phone has dinged several times with incoming messages.
Colt: Will you be watching?
I groan and toss the phone on the couch, but I pick it up and respond to his text.
Me: Shouldn’t you be practicing or eating whole wheat pasta?
Colt: So, you were listening. What are you doing?
I pick up my glass of wine, take a picture of it and send it to him.
Me: Having some devil’s milk on a Friday evening. I might do some cussing later. Or is it cussin’?
Colt: As long as you don’t do those things around Mama.
I text him an eye roll emoji and put my phone away. It rings. He’s sent me a FaceTime request. Uncaring about the state of my naked face, I answer, making sure to take a sip of my drink just as I hit accept.
“How come you haven’t responded to my texts all week?”
“Been busy. And I said it all when I saw you last.”
“Did you? I don’t remember. I miss you.”
Shocked by the admission, I finish my drink and put my glass down. I wipe my mouth with my arm. “What do you miss?”
“A lot of things, but right now, I’m missing your soft lips the most. And the way you moaned when I kissed you.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really. Tell me when I can see you. If you don’t, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands like I did before.”
There’s a knock on my door, and I drop the phone on the couch. It takes only a few seconds for me to get my Chinese food from the deliveryman. Colt is still on the phone when I get back.
“I’ll be flying home tonight after the game. This is the last game in this series. We’re getting that much closer to the Finals.”
I stick my chopsticks in a container of chicken lo mein and nod, having no idea what series he’s talking about. There’s always an endless supply of games.
