He stepped inside and pointed at my dark television. “What? You don’t like hockey?”
I did. If the Bruisers were on, I was usually watching. Though less now that I knew the truth. I’d been a huge fan of Liam, but once I knew he was my half-brother, I couldn’t watch him without feeling…uncomfortable.
“I was pre-occupied.” I found the remote and turned the game on. It was scoreless in the first period.
Wyatt plopped down on my couch and opened the bag of chips. I pulled two beers from the carrier, opened both and put the remainder in the fridge.
The living area of my apartment wasn’t huge. It was only half the size of the garage. There was room enough for the couch and one other chair, which I knew damn well was uncomfortableas hell. A woman I’d been dating a few years ago took it upon herself to buy it for me, because she needed a place to read when she came for overnight stays. I think she’d read in the damn thing once. I’d offered to return it after we were done, but she’d refused.
So I sat on the other end of the couch, sipped my beer and grunted when I wanted him to pass me the bag of chips. Wyatt, who was usually the strong and silent type, kept up a steady stream of commentator on everyone’s play.
“Are you practicing?” I asked him, annoyed by Wyatt being there, but as a hockey fan I was enjoying the commentary.
“For what?”
“For being a hockey commenter?”
“Not sure. I’ve got a Game of the Week I’m doing next week to test things out with the network. So we’ll see. Future’s uncertain just yet. Syd and I want to settle down first, map out a five-year plan, that kind of thing.”
Five-year plan. I didn’t have a five-day plan. Other than going to the wedding with Nor, there was nothing on my calendar. I glanced at my phone which was sitting between us on the couch, face down. I’d double checked it. It’s not like it was going to spontaneously start playing her videos.
“Ran into a friend of yours at the diner.” Wyatt sat up, every muscle tense, his eyes glued to the screen. “There it is, Liam, there it is. His left side is weak…Nice!”
The red goal light behind the net went off and Liam lifted his stick in the air like a Viking marauder, as his team rushed to him on the ice.
“Will you lay off about Nora? I told you, she’s just a friend.” I didn’t want to talk about Nora and that strange moment in the garage before Terry came and I felt compelled to sign up for fake date duty.
That morning she’d been standing beside me and she had an eyelash on her cheek. It had taken everything in me not to reach up with my filthy hands and brush it off. The urge to touch her filled me with guilt, but I couldn’t pretend it hadn’t been there.
Wyatt grinned at me like he knew something I didn’t. “You mean the cute brunette, who I heard is working at your garage? Nice move, by the way. Keep her real close. Wasn’t talking about her. Guy named Mal. Fifty-ish. Nasty looking scars on his face. He said he’s got some property he’s willing to sell. Said you gave him permission.”
“I didn’t…” I took a breath. “Mal does what he wants to do. I just told him I had no beef with you moving to town. He owns most of the property around here, so if he’s willing to sell you some, consider yourself lucky.”
“Thanks.”
“Whatever,” I said and kept my eyes fixed on the game. And my phone. Did it buzz? Was it Nora telling me to forget being her date to that wedding?
When she’d been making videos in Paris, I’d had a notification set up so every time she posted I’d know about it. Got so bad I’d drop everything just to watch it and then I’d save them to rewatch.
“Is she why you keep looking at your phone?” Wyatt asked.
“Huh?” I said, shoving chips into my mouth so I wouldn’t have to answer.
Wyatt laughed and shook his head. “Dude, I’ve been there.”
“I’m nowhere,” I insisted.
“You can fight it. You can dodge it. Tell yourself it’s not happening. Even tell yourself you don’t want it, but once it grabs hold of you there’s no shaking it. I knew after one day I was going to spend my life with Syd, and then wasted a whole bunch of time trying to prove myself wrong.”
“For the last time,” I said between gritted teeth. “Nora’s just a friend.”
“Uh huh. Another beer?” he offered and I nodded. Definitely another beer was a good idea. He walked into the kitchen and came back with two more.
“You know,” he said as he plopped down on the couch again. A commercial about some prescription medicine that gave you the shits as a side effect was apparently not enough to grab his attention. “You could always just…test the waters.”
“What?”
“Test the waters,” he repeated. “Maybe take this person, who’s been a friend and only a friend, out on a date. See if you can unfriend-zone her.”
