Gloves Dropped by Camellia Tate

Author:Camellia Tate [Tate, Camellia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-10T16:00:00+00:00

With Gabrielle in the crowd watching me, I played a great game on the day of her birthday. When the Pumas won, I teased her that it should count instead of a birthday present.

Of course, I presented her real gift at dinner. A fancy leather purse - one she’d not-so-subtly ‘accidentally’ sent me a link to weeks ago. It wasn’t a surprise, but Gabrielle was still delighted. She moved her stuff into it right there at the table!

And I paid for dinner, too. And Gabrielle’s first-ever legal cocktail. I slipped the waiter an extra twenty bucks just so he’d ask to see Gabrielle’s card. She got a kick out of proving that she was 21.

Since I couldn’t share a cake with her, the restaurant brought a plate of sorbet, complete with an indoor sparkler and a strawberry syrup ‘Happy 21st Birthday’.

I was sad to see Gabrielle pack up her things to fly home. My house felt so much more alive while she was in it with me. After my morning skate, I drove her to the airport, promising that next time she saw me, I’d be able to cook more than steak.

Maybe that was why I couldn’t stop thinking about El on the drive back. I hadn’t been fair to her. I’d never considered how hard it must be for her to put aside our differences to work with me. I owed her an apology.

Back at the rink, I made my way to her office, my heart in my mouth. It wasn’t often that I humbled myself by apologizing to someone. But if they deserved it, I tried to be the good man that I wanted to be. And El definitely deserved it.

She called out to let me in, and I pulled the door closed behind me. Her eyes widened when she spotted me, making them look extra green. All my words seemed to get stuck in my mouth. I had to clear my throat. Even then, what came out wasn’t exactly smooth.

“Uh. Hi.” I stepped forward but didn’t take a seat. I didn’t know yet if El would want me to stay. “Is now a good time? I only need… a few minutes.” Assuming that El would give me any time at all.

She stood, too. Presumably, because I hadn’t sat. It made us more equal. El moved around the table, leaning against it. “Okay,” she nodded. I watched in fascination as she sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you, too,” she admitted.

“I, uh. I’m sorry,” she said. I could tell it didn’t come easily to her. Something I could definitely relate to. “I meant what I said,” El added. “But I didn’t... I hadn’t intended it to come across badly. I realize now how it did.” I knew her words were chosen carefully; none of them put the blame on me for misunderstanding.

She could’ve easily blamed me, I thought. I had been drunk. Yet she chose not to.

I smiled. In response, a fraction of the tension eased out of El’s shoulders.

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