Want You to Want Me Read online

  We both turned to see Jensen jogging over to us.

  Nolan said, “You must be having fun since I haven’t seen you all night.”

  “It was a blast watching the three Lund pinball wizards trying to outscore one another.”

  “Who won?” he asked. “Your dad or mine?”

  “Neither. Uncle Monte kicked both their asses.” Jensen looked at me. “I wanted to say if you’re ready to go, you and Liddy can ride to Snow Village with me ’n Rowan.”

  “Really? You have room in your sportscar for two more?”

  “I didn’t drive the Corvette. We hired a car service since we knew we’d be drinking.”

  My eyes lit up. “Is it a limo?”

  “Nah. Just an Escalade.”

  Liddy and I had Uber-ed to the party, so having a ride home was too good to pass up. “Sounds great. Thank you. I haven’t seen Liddy in a while.”

  “She’s up front. She got cornered by my mom and sister when she mentioned an upcoming trip to Sweden.”

  “Cool. I’ll be right there.” After Jensen jogged off—did the man run everywhere?—I looked at Nolan.

  He stared back at me. Neither of us knew what to say.

  Then he said, “So we’re good?”

  “Yeah. We’re good. See you around, Lund.”

  “You’ve got my number. Lemme know if you need help with your air hockey slap shot.”

  I flipped him off.

  Eight

  GABI

  THE FOLLOWING MONDAY NIGHT

  ME: How does the moon cut his hair?

  NL: How?

  ME: Eclipse it.

  NL: Where did you hear that joke?

  ME: One of my students. I thought you’d appreciate it.

  NL: I do. Thanks.

  ME: You’re welcome. Carry on, Lund tycoon.

  Don’t forget to let your minions out to play once in a while.

  NL: Nah. If I’m chained to my desk, so are they.

  ME: You’re still working?

  NL: It’s not that late.

  ME: Dude. It’s 9:00!

  NL: Huh. Time got away from me. I was just about to leave anyway.

  ME: Good. I’d tell you that you work too much, but you’d just throw it back in my face that I do too, so I’ll save us the argument and remind you to eat something decent that will replenish the energy you’ve expended today.

  NL: Got suggestions?

  ME: Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, corn.

  NL: Are you being that specific because you have leftovers? Great! I’ll be right over.

  ME: Ha-ha. No. That’s what I would buy if I had to stop someplace on my way home from work.

  NL: It does sound good. Thanks for the rec.

  ME: No prob.

  TUESDAY NIGHT

  ME: I FOUND A GAME WE CAN PLAY TOGETHER!!

  NL: Stop shouting at me.

  ME: Sorry. Just excited.

  NL: What game?

  ME: Download Friendly Fire. It’s a word game app.

  NL: Oh. I already play that one. Challenge me to a game. My screen name is Nolansland85.

  ME: My screen name is GWellikers47.

  NL:

  WEDNESDAY NIGHT

  ME: How the hell did you get all the letters to play QUAVERS? That was a 127-point word! Are you cheating?

  NL: Aww, that’s cute, Welk, that you thought I’d have to cheat to beat you.

  ME:

  NL: I’ve been playing this game for five years.

  ME: Brag much?

  NL: Hey, you’re the one who challenged me.

  ME: Because I thought it’d be new to both of us. That we’d be evenly matched.

  NL: You just hate losing.

  ME: You’ll know how it feels next game, Lund.

  NL: Bring it.

  Nine

  NOLAN

  THURSDAY NIGHT

  ME: Great word, Gabriella! See? This is how you lose gracefully. Take notes.

  GW:

  ME: How have you had time to finish a game a day with me?

  GW: Same question back atcha.

  ME: Bored at work.

  GW: Samesies!

  ME:

  GW: If I have time to dick around on my phone, I usually pick single-player games. Trying to best my own high score. You?

  ME: I’ve always been a sporadic player on other apps. For FF, I’ve never played with real people I know. So now that we’ve gone head-to-head . . . it’s fun. The other games are a huge time suck.

  GW: I hear ya. I don’t have extra time during playoff/championship season—except for when I have nothing to do between games. So this has worked out.

  ME: I stopped in to watch Mimi’s practice last night, but you weren’t there.

  GW: Refereeing in Stillwater. I swear I could ref games 24/7 this week. They’d have me do it too, if they could get away with it.

  ME: But you enjoy it?

  GW: Not as much as coaching.

  ME: Are any Lakeside teams good enough to play in any championship games?

  GW: No. But I’m prepping my teams for a consolation tourney that all teams that didn’t make the finals can play in. If Jax wants club teams that are competitive, he’ll have to make some staffing decisions. Soon.

  ME: Can you help him with that?

  GW: If he asks. He’s got other things on his mind. And I just work for him, Nolan. I’ve got no skin in the game at Lakeside.

  ME: That sounds ominous.

  GW: It wasn’t meant to. I’m just tired.

  ME: Of hockey?

  GW: Never. Okay. That’s a lie. Some days I wonder where I’d be in my life and my career if I would’ve taken a job outside of hockey after I graduated from college.

  ME: Gabi, babe. You wouldn’t be you.

  GW: Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

  ME: Rough day?

  GW: Yeah.

  ME: What can I do?

  GW: I don’t suppose you own a beachfront house in Hawaii I could rent out?

  ME: Nope.

  GW: Story of my life.

  ME: Seriously, are you okay?

  GW: I am, Nolan. And thank you for asking. I’m just a little punchy tonight.

  ME: For what it’s worth, everyone questions their career choices.

  GW: Even billionaire tycoons?

  ME: ESPECIALLY offspring of billionaire tycoons who aren’t 100% sure of their place in the family biz.

  GW: Does it make me a jerk if I admit I’m happy to hear that it isn’t always I LOVE MY JOB with you either?

  ME: No. It makes things real between us. So when the time comes that we need to vent, or even discuss changes, we both know we’ve got someone we can rely on for an honest opinion.

  GW: I concur.

  ME: Hilarious since that’s the word you beat me with.

  GW:

  ME: Get some rest.

  GW: Back atcha.

  FRIDAY NIGHT

  ME: I’m home, mindlessly flipping through channels, when I land on one of those bachelor/bachelorette-type reality shows. I never watch them. Not even secretly.

  GW: Okay. And you’re telling me this . . . why?

  ME: Patience, Welk. So these two characters go on a date and the topic question they pull from the magic coconut is . . . Tell me something about yourself that nobody knows.

  GW: Umm, coming from someone who watches those shows without apology, that is a standard question.

  ME: I’ve dated a lot, like more than is healthy probably, and I’ve NEVER had a date ask me that. So I don’t get the reasoning behind it. To build drama?

  GW: No, I think it’s an exercise in trust.
/>   ME: But if I haven’t told anyone about it, why would I be inclined to tell a stranger . . . in front of a camera . . . on TV? That is the opposite of trust.

  GW: What I’m getting from your confusion is that you have a deep, dark secret you’ve been dying to tell someone, and you’re wondering if I’m interested in being your confessor.

  ME: I am not.

  GW: R2

  ME: D2

  GW: Dork

  ME: I hate shorthand texting.

  GW: You can’t mean emojis because we both use the shit out of them.

  ME: Bet your middle finger emoji is your most used.

  GW: That one and the booze ones. Especially tonight.

  ME: Getting your drink on?

  GW: Made myself a vodka cranberry when I got home and I went a leeeeettle heavy on the V.

  ME: So you’re my drunken confessor?

  GW: You’re really gonna tell me a Nolan nugget no one knows?

  ME: Eww. That sounded gross.

  GW: I’ll rephrase.

  Nothing for two minutes.

  ME: Welk, you there?

  GW: I had to pee. Now where were we?

  ME: I was about to sign off and leave you in your cups.

  GW: No! I wanna know your secret. Pleeeeeaaassseeee?

  ME: Strictly confidential?

  GW: Scout’s honor.

  I seriously doubted she’d been a Girl Scout.

  ME: In seventh grade I took a zero on an algebra test after the teacher caught me “cheating” looking at Amber Mahoney’s paper. I never told anyone that I wasn’t looking at Amber’s paper, I was looking down her shirt.

  GW: BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

  ME: There you go.

  GW: Feel better?

  ME: No. I’d feel better if you told me something you’d never told anyone.

  GW: Oh, you mean like me passing on trying out for the national team so my sister had a shot at making it? And then they win the Olympic gold?

  My jaw dropped. I couldn’t even think of how to respond to that.

  Turns out, I didn’t have to think about what to type. My phone rang.

  Gabi started talking as soon as I hit answer. “Please, please don’t tell anyone that I said that, okay? Jesus. I can’t believe I told you.”

  “Sounds like you needed to tell someone.” I paused. “So it is true?”

  “Yes. There’s the chance I wouldn’t have made the team if I would’ve tried out, but I opted not to be considered for a spot so Dani would be. There’s also the fact that if I would’ve been on the team, they might not have won the gold. So it’s fucked-up logic, but everyone thinks I opted out because I believed I was past my prime.”

  “Dani believes that’s why you walked away?”

  “Yes.”

  “Goddammit, Gabriella. She should know about your selflessness.”

  “No. That’s the thing with selflessness, Nolan. You don’t expect anything in return. She did great in the games and she earned something I’ll never have. But I’ve gotten to experience so much in my career that she never will. On the balance side, the scales are tipped much higher in my favor.”

  I thought back to the night in Buddy’s when Gabi talked about things she’d given up for her sister. I should be even more pissed off on her behalf that Dani ended up with Tyson too, but Gabi deserved better than him.

  “Nolan. Please promise me this stays between us.”

  “Of course I promise. It’s a trust-building exercise, remember?”

  “Building toward what?”

  “You tell me, Gabriella.”

  Silence.

  Then, “Can we table my answer since this is basically me drunk dialing you?”

  I laughed. “Chicken.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Sleep it off, Welk. We’ll talk soon.”

  Ten

  GABI

  I’d been home maybe five minutes when my phone rang.

  Dammit. I wanted quiet time to reflect on my day.

  Don’t you mean worry and pace?

  Sighing, I flipped over my phone. Caller ID read: Liddy.

  If I didn’t answer she’d show up at my door anyway and ask why I hadn’t picked up.

  Forcing a smile into my voice, I answered, “Liddy! What’s up?”

  “My hopes rather than my blood pressure for once.”

  “Har har.”

  “We have margaritas, a bowl of gourmet popcorn and chocolate salted caramel gelato.”

  I only managed to get out, “Who’s we—” before the knock sounded on my door.

  Liddy and Dallas Lund crowded into the doorframe, Liddy juggling the popcorn and quart of gelato, Dallas clutching an enormous crystal pitcher.

  Dallas sang, “Oh yes, it’s ladies’ night,” and hip-checked me as she walked past.

  Liddy kissed me on both cheeks. “Happy Thursday night, darling.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “That’s the beauty of it! We don’t need one,” Dallas said gleefully. She shook the pitcher and the ice rattled. “I even made my famous margaritas. Break out the glasses.”

  “Already done,” Liddy said from my kitchen. “And none of this ‘I’m tired’ nonsense, Gabs. It’s almost been two bloody weeks since the pre-party at Full Tilt. Remember we all agreed to try to get together because we’re all busy. This is us sticking to it.”

  I leaned against her and sighed. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “You too, Dallas.”

  She smiled as she filled the margarita glasses. “I’m just happy that y’all think I’m cool. No one besides my BFF MacGuyer and my cousin Annika ever wanna hang out. ‘Odd duck’ is the nicest term that’s been used to describe me.”

  “Y’all? Girl, where’d that southern drawl come from?” I teased. “You’re a Minnesota native.”

  “My mom is from North Carolina. After spending a few hours with her, I slip a y’all in here and there.”

  “Did you say your best friend’s name is MacGyver?” Liddy asked.

  Dallas laughed. “That’s an easy mistake to make, but no. Her name is Ann-Mackenzie Guyer. Her parents call her Annie-Mac, which is too close to my cousin Annika’s name, so I call her MacGuyer, because like MacGy-ver, she is the cleverest person I know. We’ve been BFFs since first grade. You’d love her.” She pointed to the drinks. “Grab one and let’s toast.”

  We held our glasses aloft and I braced myself for that awkward moment when everyone thought a toast to be a good idea but no one knew what to say.

  Not so with Dallas. “Here’s to those who’ve seen us at our best and seen us at our worst and can’t tell the difference.”

  We touched glasses and drank.

  My eyes widened at that first sweet, tangy, crisp, cold, citrusy, spicy, boozy taste. “Omigod, Dallas.” I glanced over at Liddy and her amazed expression matched mine. “This is . . .” I took another drink and groaned. “Hands down the most fantastic margarita I’ve ever had.”

  Dallas bowed. “Thank you. It’s a secret special recipe. Takes forever to make but well worth the effort.”

  “I agree.” Liddy raised her glass. “To Dallas, for sharing her labor of love with us.”

  Another clink of our glasses.

  “Let’s sit in the living room.” I connected my phone to my speakers and picked a favorite playlist. A little Sheryl Crow, Liz Phair, Katy Perry, P!nk, Taylor Swift; sisters in girl power.

  “Have you had a chance to relax since the official grand opening for Full Tilt?” Liddy asked.

  Dallas curled her feet beneath her in the chair. “I promised Jax I’d be on-site for the first two weeks and I’ve reached the end of that. It’ll be bittersweet to move on to the next project.”
>
  “Which is . . . ?” Liddy asked.

  “Nothing I’m allowed to talk about,” Dallas said, miming locking her mouth and tossing away the key.

  Then Liddy focused on me. “You have to have overheard something working for Jaxson.”

  “It’s a miracle I hear anything to do with my job when I’m on the ice, say nothing of overhearing something that I’m not supposed to.”

  Liddy blasted me with an arch look, a reminder that I had recently overheard things I shouldn’t have.

  But I didn’t take the bait. Nolan had apologized and we’d both moved on.

  The fact I’d been texting with him regularly . . . not something I wanted to share. She might read the wrong thing into it.

  Or maybe the right thing, which scares you even more.

  “Is there anything else we should be celebrating?” Dallas asked Liddy. “I’m seeing . . . a bit more skittishness in your aura. BT-dubs, it doesn’t appear to be causing anxiety, so good news?”

  “We landed a corporate gift account and I’ll be the liaison between the client and the graphics team.”

  “Congrats! Are you happy you’ll be spending more time in London?”

  I looked at Liddy. “You didn’t tell me that’s part of your promotion.”

  “Only because I just found out this morning.” She focused on Dallas. “Dallas, sweetheart, you know I adore you, but it is spooky the way you just toss it out there like I’m wearing a sign.”

  She shrugged. “You are to me. I can’t unsee it.”

  “Is that hard for you?” I asked her. “The always-seeing part?”

  “Sometimes. This . . . sense that I have? It’s ever-changing, so even I don’t know what to expect most of the time.”

  “Please explain,” Liddy said after taking a drink.

  “I’ll try.” Dallas looked across the space and gathered her thoughts. “If I run into you in the hallway next week, I won’t get the same reading from you that I got today, even if your mindset is the same and nothing externally has changed. When I get emotional impressions I can’t . . . bank them, for want of a better term.” She glanced up. “My perceptions freak people out. They act like I’m a mind reader, but the more I try and explain the less people listen. I’ve had to make adjustments to myself based on other people’s random reactions to me, which sucks because I feel less true to who I am. But I’ve come to accept it’ll never become easier.”