Page 6 of The Flight Risk

It’s already hard enough for me to socialize, even with people I am comfortable with. That’s why dating hasn’t really been on my radar. It’s hard for me to pick up on social cues and sometimes women expect men to be able to read their minds, which amps up my anxiety. I don’t want to fuck this up with Tess. There’s something about her that is different than any of the girls I’ve dated in the past. Granted, I’ve only dated a few girls in my life, but none of them were Tess.

Lawson sits next to me as I remove another layer of gear. “She won’t think you’re a psycho. Trust me. Be persistent. It worked for me.”

“You can’t compare what is going on with Oakley and Tess to your relationship with Brooke. Y’all had ten plus years of pent-up sexual chemistry and hatred for each other. There was a lot of history there,” Jagielski chimes in again. “Oakley has only known Tess for, what? A year?”

A year, seven months and three days.

“About a year and a half,” I mutter as nonchalantly as I can. I know the exact date I met Tess Lewis. That’s how my brain operates. I hold onto random facts and little details about people or situations and they are locked into my memory forever.

“See? Not the same,” Jagielski says before heading towards the showers.

I remove my skates and Lawson leans over and nudges me with his shoulder. “Anyway, I think Tess has been distracted. Brooke said something about Tess having brunch with her sister recently and I don’t know, something went down. She probably read your text and got preoccupied about whatever else is going on in her life. I don’t think you did anything wrong, man. In fact, I think you are approaching this the right way with Tess. Take it slow, but don’t put her on the back burner for too long. She’s really special to Brooke, so I know she’s a good one.” He pats my back, stands up and heads towards the showers.

I lean back against the wooden panels of the locker. Now all I can think about is what is going on with Tess that has her so distracted. I hope everything is okay. I have this massive urge to cut out the middle man of texting and just call her. I want to try and figure out her real feelings about whatever is going on. I want to tear down the damn mask she thinks she has to put on around men because I see the real Tess Lewis and she is fierce and protective and vulnerable and goddamn beautiful. And that’s why I’m taking my time with Tess. I heard she has dated plenty of guys and is extremely flirtatious. She is experienced and that intimidates me.

I shove my phone back in my bag, hoping that by not fixating on it, she actually will text me back.

4

“Here it is. Home sweet home.”

My sweet Pomeranian, Pippa, comes running up and jumps all over my legs. I feel all the puppy mom guilt from the past few days. I’ve been prepping my house and grocery shopping, ensuring I got all of Lottie’s favorite foods. I wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible in my 750 square foot, one-bedroom apartment in Uptown.

Lottie’s wild, wavy dark hair mimics my own. I love how much she is embracing it at the ripe age of fourteen. When I was her age, I straightened it almost every day so I could fit in and be considered “beautiful.” Tara had straight, blonde hair like my mother and my sister was the most popular girl in school. There was a time I wanted to be just like Tara. Oh how things have changed.

Lottie drags a navy roller bag behind her, a charcoal duffle slung across her body and a clarinet case in one hand, phone in the other. She has only been here a few times since I moved in about a year ago. “Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

“Aunt Tess, I’ve seen your couch.” She stops short of my bedroom, and starts rolling her bag over to the edge of my ivory sectional.

“Lottie, you aren’t sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, did you get an air mattress?”

“No, you are going to sleep in my room, silly.” As much as I love my bed, I am not about to have my niece slum it on my couch, which is actually very comfortable. Either way, Lottie has had to just go with the flow in almost every aspect of her life because that is how Tara decided to live hers. I want to make her as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. I Lottie-fied my room and transformed it into a fourteen-year-old girl’s dream room as much as I could. A large Harry Styles poster now graces one of my walls, I pinned twinkly lights all along the corners of the ceiling, and I even got a new duvet cover in navy–her favorite color.

Lottie steps into my room trepidatiously, looking around in utter astonishment. Her eyebrows furrow. “Aunt Tess, are you sure?”

I roll my eyes playfully and pull her fully into my bedroom. “More than sure. Don’t sweat it, kiddo. I cleared out some drawers in my dresser and made some room in my closet for you. I’ll leave you to it.”

5

“Okay, great class everyone! See some of you in a couple days,” the overly enthusiastic and sadistic instructor belts out and claps, as if he didn’t just put us all through the hardest workout of our lives in a room that is a whopping 95 degrees.

I slowly roll up my bright green yoga mat. I’m dripping sweat. “You’re lucky I love you. Because hot yoga is a brand new form of torture I wasn’t aware of,” I breathlessly say to Brooke.

“Oh, come on, you promised you would work out with me. I want to feel my best for the wedding.” She stretches one final time before standing up.

“I know I did, but I was not expecting yoga to kick my ass. You know I’m more into strength training and walking. Hot girl walks over hot yoga any day.”

Brooke snorts and shakes her head. “It’s good to get out of your comfort zone. You encouraged me to step out of my comfort zone of not dating hockey players and look where I am now. The happiest I’ve ever been.” She rolls up her hot pink mat and tucks it under her arm.

“Yeah, don’t forget that I deserve a special shout-out at your wedding. If it wasn’t for my little push, we wouldn’t be talking about wedding prep at all.”

“Only if you promise to still keep me accountable on the working-out front.” Brooke flashes a smile. Even after the workout from hell, she is a glistening beauty. How can she look so glamorous after being trapped in this vat of humid heat? If I wanted that, I would just step outside on a Texas summer day. That’s one thing I’ve always hated about living in this state–the weather.

“Deal.” I sassily say as I pick up my matching green 40 ounce tumbler which is basically empty at this point. I glance in the full-length wall mirrors to see that my curls are rebelling against the tight bun on top of my head. Ringlets are sticking out of the actual bun and my temples are covered with dark brown spirals. I was right not to put on makeup this morning because it would definitely be melted off at this point. My sports bra is soaked and I cannot wait to go home and shower.

“Lottie didn’t want to join us this morning?” Brooke asks.