“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, thank fuck! You guys are so stubborn I was worried it was never going to happen.” They jump around and hug each other like they scored backstage passes at a boy-band concert. Then Waters and I stand awkwardly while they whisper back and forth. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Sunny’s blushing, so I’m sure it’s an overshare.
My phone rings from somewhere under the pile of clothes. “Oh shit. What time is it?”
“Seven-thirtyish? You guys want to have dinner with us? Or have you already eaten?” Violet snickers.
Waters rolls his eyes.
“Uh. Thanks for the invite, but I’m supposed to be at the airport, like, now.” I was cutting it close already; I’ll be lucky to make it at all.
“What time’s your flight?” Violet asks.
“Ten.”
“Yeah, you’re not going to make that.” Waters drops the takeout on the side table and kicks off his shoes. “You might as well reschedule and stay the night. There’s a spare room down the hall.” He crosses over to the cupboard to grab some plates.
So I reschedule my flight, again, and talk my dad into attending my meetings in the morning. Sunny and I spend the night in her brother’s spare room having quiet make-up sex.
The next morning she drives me to the airport. We kiss for way longer than we should in a highly public place. I take off my baseball cap and hold it up so we don’t offend anyone or attract too much attention. Pictures still end up on the Internet, but I don’t mind. Neither does Sunny, apparently. She uses one of them as her avi on social media. It’s not in-your-face at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DEFUZZING IS DANGEROUS
Once I get back to Chicago, I put nearly all my time and energy into the fundraiser and workouts to prep for it. It’s just three weeks away, and we’ve already sold half the tickets. The promo video went up yesterday. My dad expects the event to be sold out before the end of next week, which means we’ll raise an easy fifty grand for Michael’s family.
Based on the success so far, I’ve decided this is exactly the kind of thing I want to do more of. I don’t need to wait until my hockey career is over. I have to work out the logistics with Vi and my agent, but it seems like a good way to broaden my reach, and it’s definitely helped spin the media attention in a different direction. The pictures of me and Sunny at the airport haven’t hurt either.
I get an awful lot of help from Randy in both the workout and fundraising-prep departments since he’s still not going out all that much. Lance rides his ass about it more than he does mine, but even he’s let up. Last week when we did a home workout at his place, Lance was on his best behavior with Tash, and there wasn’t one bunny.
Sunny and I have Skyped every night this week. She’s flying in this morning for the weekend. I want to hijack her right away, but she’s supposed to be visiting Waters and Violet. I’ll give those two the day with her, but she’s coming for dinner at my place tonight. My plan is to turn it into a sleepover and get her to stay with me for most of the weekend. I don’t think Waters is likely to object considering Vi is already in on it.
Just before eleven, Vi stops by. She’s here to help me prepare. She took the afternoon off for a business meeting, part of which consists of picking up Sunny from the airport. I’m not sure it’s legit.
“What’s up, brother from another mother?” She’s holding a huge box. “And father,” she tacks on, then wrinkles her nose. “That wasn’t even funny, was it?”
“Uh, no.”
She drops the box on the counter. “I think my sense of humor is being affected by this engagement-party-planning shit. I wonder if it’s possible to have an allergy to being engaged.”
“I have my doubts.”
She points a candle at me. “You’re not helpful. I need to put a stop to my mother’s insanity. I can’t deal with this craziness. She’s trying to force her way into my girl’s afternoon with Sunny. I said no way. Neither one of us wants blue-eye-shadow makeovers.” Vi stops her tirade to look around my condo. “Have you done anything to get ready for Sunny?”
“I changed my sheets, and I cleaned off the dining room table.” I relocated all the papers to the coffee table so we have somewhere to eat.
“You’re such a bachelor.”
I unpack the box of stuff while Vi rummages through my cupboards. “This must be yours.” I toss her a box with a woman’s leg on it. It looks like a shaving product.
She puts her hands up, shielding her face. It hits her in the chest and drops to the floor at her feet. “Ow! Don’t throw things at me!”
“I didn’t throw it. I tossed it. Underhand. It helps if you don’t cower and actually try to catch it.”
She picks it up off the floor and hurls it. I snatch it out of the air before it beans me on the head. Her aim is getting better—either that or it was a lucky shot. “That’s for you.”
“What is this? Shaving cream?” I turn the box over and scan the back, waiting for her to explain. She can tell me in thirty seconds what it’ll take me five minutes to labor through on my own.
“It’ll take down your forest of body hair.”
I run a hand up my arm. “I don’t need this. You can take it home and use it on your mustache.” I slide the box across the counter toward her.