“We should play Wii. They have a Wii, we should play it.” I heard Cody declare.
“We have a Wii at home, Cody,” Molly told him.
“So?” Cody asked.
“Though, this shit is killin’ the mood,” Hop muttered, and I grinned as I moved into their condo.
It was spacious too but warmly, not architecturally.
“Hey, Cody,” I called.
“You like Wii?” he called back.
“You wanna say hello?” Hop suggested from behind me in a way that was not entirely a suggestion.
“Yo, Miss Lanie,” Cody mumbled, wisely taking up his dad’s thinly veiled order.
I smiled at him.
Molly materialized at my side. “Do you like Pictionary?”
I looked down at her. “I do, but we can’t play.”
Her face fell. “Why not?”
“Because it’s a moral imperative to play boys against girls and we’d whup their butts. I’m sort of creative, do it for a living. This means I never lose at Pictionary,” I announced.
“Dad and me’ll kill you,” Cody declared.
I looked at him and threw out the challenge, “Impossible.”
He hurled himself over the back of the couch, racing away, shouting, “I’m getting Pictionary!”
My work done, I moved to the couch and sat down.
Already this was better than TV with Dad.
“Nice work, lady.”
This was murmured in my ear by Hop. I turned my neck. He was behind the couch but bent toward me. I caught Hop’s smile and gave him one back.
He straightened and moved away while Cody raced back with the game and got on his knees beside the coffee table. Molly moved in to help him set up.
I took in a deep breath and let it out right before I felt cold on my arm. I looked down, saw a bottle of beer pressed there, and lifted a hand to take it even as I tipped my head back to smile my gratitude at Hop.
He smiled his acceptance.
Definitely better than TV with Dad.
Pads and pencils disbursed, timer at the ready, we settled in and I played Pictionary with badass biker Hopper Kincaid and his two kids.
The best.
The best I’d ever had.
And, incidentally, Molly and I whupped their butts.
Three times.
* * *
Hop and I were standing outside his condo door making out, me in my jacket, him in his thermal henley.
This was lasting awhile and I was going with it, hoping Hop knew the drill inside where his kids were getting ready for bed, so he’d know how much time we had to enjoy what we were doing.
I was also going with it because we’d never just made out, it leading nowhere but to the goodness of taste and touch, bodies pressed together in the cold.
It was fabulous.
Eventually and regrettably, he broke the connection of our mouths but not our embrace.
“Gotta make sure they’re good,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” I muttered back.
“Also gotta let you know, before you got here, got a call from an old buddy of mine. He’s gonna be close. In Denver for the first time in a while. I don’t wanna miss seein’ him. We were tight back in the day. It’ll be good seein’ him but my only shot is Monday night.”
This was a disappointment but still I said, “Okay.”
“Want you to come with me.”
I held his eyes in the outside lights.
I’d made a decision. It wasn’t conscious, it was intuitive. Going with my gut, leading with my heart, I was moving forward not thinking about the consequences.
I’d let Hop in.
That day, I’d eaten breakfast, spent the day and played Pictionary with his kids.
Was I ready to meet an old buddy?
“I’d like that,” I stated before my brain could catch up and do something other than go with my gut and lead with my heart.
“Good,” he replied on a grin, then his arms tightened and his grin faded. “Check in in the morning. Wanna take your pulse.”
Afraid for a long time where my gut and heart might lead, I hadn’t listened to them for years. It was good to know, from Hop’s concern, I could trust them again.
“I’ll call.”
“Do that,” he murmured.
I grinned.
He touched his mouth to mine.
When he lifted his head, I whispered, “I better let you go.”
“Don’t ever do that.”
His words flowed through me in a way I couldn’t help but press close, angle my head and push my face in his neck.
“Are you real?” I asked his skin.
“Baby, you’re standing in my arms,” he answered.
“Please be real,” I whispered.
“Feel this.” He gave me a squeeze. “I’m real, Lanie.”
I drew in breath, drawing him in, then I pulled back and looked at him.
“Okay, then I won’t let you go but I will say good night.”