It seems a little strange that they couldn’t wait an extra hour to congratulate their son, but what do I know? “Do you want to meet them for a drink?” I ask. I can’t imagine being to tired to meet up with Mom, Booker, Emersyn, or even Gran and Grandad.
Ollie shakes his head. “No, not tonight. By now, my mom’s no longer wearing her face and my dad’s had too many glasses of whiskey to entertain company, let alone meet his daughter-in-law. He won’t be a dick to you, but he’ll regale you with tales of my many failures and fuck ups, and I’m just not in the mood for that tonight.”
“I’m not ever going to be in the mood for that,” I tell him.
“Well, he’ll only be marginally better at breakfast tomorrow, and there’s no way we’re getting out of that one.” Ollie sighs as he squeezes my hand. “For now, let’s head to Wolfie’s and celebrate that win.
Five minutes later, we’re walking through Bainbridge’s favorite bar to the row of tables in the back that half the team has already claimed.
We place our drink order and settle into a pair of empty seats. Ollie’s arm is slung over my shoulder andthere’s a comfort in that gesture I never knew I needed. Though the bar is pretty crowded, our section isn’t too hectic, so I’m able to hear reasonably well with my hearing aids, and I can fill in the gaps by reading lips.
“You should be taking notes, Brick,” Ollie says to JT Norris, the team’s star goalie.
“What the hell for?” JT volleys back. Maggie’s perched on his lap and I wonder if Ollie and I look that happy together.
Ollie just shakes his head. “Because you’re an engaged man. And I’m a married one. I could give you a lot of tips. That’s all I’m saying.”
JT holds up a middle-finger salute. “You’ve been married for a week. Your engagement lasted about five minutes. Maggie and I have a kid together. I’m pretty sure I don’t need any help from you.”
Ollie just rolls his eyes. “You do remember that I’m the reason you two met in the first place, right? If I hadn’t dragged your sorry ass to that party or started a game of strip volleyball?—”
“Strip volleyball? That sounds especially risky,” I say.
But Ollie just waves me off. “I’m a pro,” he tells me. “In fact, if you ever want to learn, I’d be happy to be your coach.”
“That’s so generous,” I tease. “Maybe we should go back now and see if there’s time to squeeze in a lesson?”
“I’ll squeeze something in,” he tells me and even though I can’t help but laugh at his ridiculousness, I know I’ll take him up on that offer later.
Mickey and Dime start challenging their teammates to pool, a couple guys from the baseball team start playing darts, and someone orders another round of wings.
It occurs to me that I’m having fun. Even though Booker often invited me to tag along with his friends andteammates, I always felt like an outsider. Everyone was so nice, and I know they were happy to have me there, but it feels different now, and I think the biggest reason for that is that this is all my choice.
I’m getting to make my own decisions and my own mistakes. I know most people think Ollie and I are crazy and while I can see where they’re coming from, I’m not sure we’re the crazy ones. In fact, we might be the ones who are getting it right.
Ollie and I weren’t star-crossed lovers. We weren’t really even sworn enemies who fell in love.
If life is a group project, then Ollie and I were paired up as partners. And I’ve never had more fun.
25
Fallon
Ifeel Ollie’s lip press against my temple before I even open my eyes. He taps my shoulder, and Iinstantly realize it’s time to wake up so that we can have breakfast with his parents.
I know there’s no possible way we can skip, but I don’t want to leave this bed—or my husband.
Don’t look at me like that,or we’ll never make it to breakfast. Ollie signs.
I sigh and stretch, determined to crawl out of bed, hop in the shower, and start getting ready. I am meeting my in-laws, after all.
Grabbing some clothes from my dresser, I head for the bathroom and turn on the water. It doesn’t take long for me to wash up, and I’m halfway through my low-maintenance makeup routine when my phone lights up with a text. It’s six in the morning on the West Coast, but Emersyn is awake and ready to chat.
Em: So…how’s married life? Is marital sex better than premarital sex? I’ve never had either, so I’d like to know.
Fallon: I’m not answering that. But marriage agrees with me.
Em: So marital sex is better. Or is Ollie just a vast improvement over the knuckleheads you’ve been with before?
