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“It is. But I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Anyway, if you’re feeling non-apple-y, I have croissants—chocolate filled and regular. I know you’re supposed to be eating all the healthy things, but whatever. As you already know, that’s not what I serve.”
I smile and take a bite out of one of the pastries. I already forgot all the names she listed, but it tastes like a flaky apple pie and is most excellent. I practically inhale it and go for the donut next. I could really get behind this apple thing.
“Wow,” Parker says. “Guess you’re not against sweets.”
“I’m supposed to keep to a pretty strict regimen. But I burn something like 3,000 calories a day during the season. So, I think it’s fine to balance it out with the occasional donut.”
“My, my. You reallyarethe bad boy of hockey. Eating the occasional donut. Scandal!”
Next, she pulls several to-go cups from the box, and the scent of coffee almost knocks me over. My head gives one big throb.
“I also didn’t know what kind of coffee you liked or even if you liked it. You didn’t drink coffee back in the day. But”—she tilts her head as she studies me with a small smile—“based on the way you’re practically salivating, my guess is you do.”
“I very much do.”
“Well, I’ve got an Americano, a cappuccino, and a pumpkin spice latte. Plus a variety of creams and sugars. Pick your poison.”
I notice there’s a fourth cup, one she didn’t gesture to. “And what’s that one?”
“That’s a chai latte,” Parker says. “For me.”
“And what if chai lattes are my signature drink?” I deadpan.
Without any hesitation, Parker pushes the cup my way. “Then it’s yours.”
And this is a perfect illustration of the problem I’m facing. Parker is so good at doing what’s best for other people. So giving. So generous.
If I want her drink, she’ll hand it over. If a friend needed a kidney, she’d be at the hospital within the hour, setting up tests to see if she matches as a donor.
And if a hockey player needs a girlfriend to help his image, she’s all in.
But what doesParkerreally want?
And then, the question I really want to ask but can’t bring myself to: Does she wantme?
I push the cup back toward her. “I was kidding, Pete. The Americano sounds great. Thank you.” I pause. “You shouldn’t give up what you really want just because someone else asks you to.”
Her brow furrows. “Are we still talking about coffee?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I grab another donut and make a mental note to leave a couple of twenties for Parker. It will have to be somewhere sneaky where she won’t notice and try to return it immediately. Coffee and pastries aren’t cheap. Taking a slow sip of the Americano, I consider how to bring up what I want to bring up.
I’ve never had a conversation like this one. I’ve never wanted to have this kind of conversation. And given the examples of relationships I’ve seen in my life, I don’t have much to draw from.
Few other players I know are settled in a committed relationship. And if they are, they keep their girlfriends and wives and kids private—far removed from the hockey world. I have my mom, who didn’t settle down with any one man after my dad left. She seemed to value variety over commitment, though I think she’s been with the same guy for a while now. I wouldn’t know, as she’s somewhere in Florida. Our only contact really is the checks I still send her every month.
Parker’s parents are the only close-up I’ve had to a long-lasting marriage relationship, and I don’t want what they have.
How do I do this? Besides the fact I don’t know what I’m doing, the whole fake aspect has muddied the waters.
Parker dives in before I can figure out what I’m doing. “So, last night, huh?” She gives a long, low whistle. “Talk about a first date. A firstfakedate,” she amends. “Leading to a longer-termfakerelationship.”
And there she goes again. I frown and set down my coffee. “You don’t need topretendto be my girlfriend.”
She shrugs, clearly missing my emphasis onpretendand instead focusing on the part requiring her to play along. “I know. But it will help your career. And”—she lowers her voice—“keep this on the DL, but you’re my favorite hockey player. I have a vested interest in seeing you on the ice with the NHL again.”
While this might have been enough to warm my heart or just stroke my ego before, now I want something more from Parker. I want tobemore to her than a hockey player. Also, she has to be aware that me getting back to the NHL means me leaving.
