Penny: Hmm. I thought guys liked to play around with each other like that.
Eli: That’s like me assuming you and Winnie had a pillow fight the other night when she was over.
Penny: How do you know we didn’t?
Eli: Did you?
Penny: No.
Eli: Exactly. Trust me, it was not good advice.
Penny: Do you want me to run the scenario by him and ask him what he would do if you did that?
Eli: Jesus, no.
Penny: Are you sure? I don’t mind texting him.
Eli: For the love of God, don’t text him.
Penny: I just did. Waiting on a response.
Eli: You what? Penny! Come on, seriously?
Penny: No, but hearing your whining was fun. And before you get mad, please note, I’m pregnant and don’t get to do a lot of fun things at the moment due to nausea. So give me this little thing.
Eli: You know I’m never going to be able to trust you with the number of times you’ve tricked me.
Penny: I think that’s fair.
Penny: Are you excited to only have two more games on this away trip? It’s been a long one.
Eli: I’m excited to be reacquainted with my good friend, the couch.
Penny: You realize you can sleep in my bed, right? I told you that before you left.
Eli: Yeah, but you said it with a snarl to your lip, so I wasn’t sure I should attempt to lay a foot in your bed. Is the snarl gone?
Penny: There was no snarl.
Eli: There was a snarl. It twitched and pulsed, and frankly, it would scare the sugar off a lollipop.
Penny: Umm . . . the sugar off a lollipop? Dare I ask where that horrible comparison comes from?
Eli: Scarily enough, it was the first thing that came to mind.
Penny: I fear there’s a hint of a sociopath in the depths of your being, and that’s unsettling. Maybe you won’t be allowed back in the bed.
Eli: Don’t play with my heart . . . or back muscles.
Penny: Are you a sociopath?
Eli: Can’t say that I’ve ever been called one before. I can offer some references.
Penny: References work.
Eli: Please refer to Levi Posey and Halsey Holmes.
Penny: They aren’t reliable.
Eli: Not even Holmes?
Penny: Partially. I’d need him alone and not under the influence of your stare.
Eli: I can arrange such an event.
Penny: Good. Now, I have to ask, what did you eat for dinner? You look different on the TV from what I’m used to, and I’m wondering if it’s something you ate.
Eli: Different good or different bad?
Penny: Don’t let this get to your head, but different good.
Eli: Is that so?
Penny: Ughhhhhhh, never mind.
Eli: Tell me how good.
Penny: Good night, Hornsby.
Eli: It’s Eli.
Penny: Not when you act like that, it’s not.
Chapter Sixteen
ELI
Hair mussed, wearing sweatpants, a long-sleeved Agitators shirt, and my slide-ons, I shuffle through the conference room door where the hotel has set up breakfast for us. I stayed up late last night reading into the second trimester and what to expect from the incredibly unpredictable Penny Lawes.
Things I learned: she’ll start to show, and we’ll be able to find out the sex of the baby which, to me, is pretty exciting. I’m not sure where her head is at when it comes to wanting to find out. If she wants to wait, I’ll painfully wait with her, but I’m kind of hoping that she wants to find out.
Lifting my head from my phone—where once again I’m checking on scores—I spot Pacey in the back corner, hovering over a plate of eggs with his phone in hand. He’s the only one in the room besides me. Normally, I wouldn’t even think twice about sitting next to him, but now that things are rocky between us, I walk over to the buffet, where I pick up a plate and contemplate whether to sit next to him or not.
I pile on eggs and bacon to my plate, along with a fruit cup and a bran muffin. It’s always the same thing at every hotel. The team likes to keep things easy on us, not having to make too many decisions, and keep us fueled with all the right things at the same time. Occasionally, the hotel will throw in their own spin like a baked good, but everything is pretty much the same.
After my plate is full, I grab some water and then turn toward Pacey’s table. His back is to me, and I’m not even sure he realizes I walked into the room.
This is it. Either I could sit somewhere else and let there be a break between us, or I could close the gap and continue to mend my friendship.
On a deep breath—and a hope and a prayer he doesn’t kick me across the room—I head over to his table. I leave a chair between us, so we’re not shoulder to shoulder, but not too much room so it looks like I’m avoiding him.