All of what he just recited is accurate, but it still grates. I’m trying to stay away from this man who causes my breath to catch and my pulse to race. In the two years I’ve been away from Dallas, Nick has only gotten better looking. I’m not sure what it is. His face is the same. His body is still hard as a rock. I guess it’s attitude? The way that he walks and carries himself is different than before—
“You don’t have to stay if it bothers you so much.” He leans against the console table near the door. “I’ve read up on how to take care of the fish.”
“I promised the aquarium manager I’d stay,” I mumble resentfully. “Where’s Cassidy?”
“Napping. The trainer and I wore her out. We had her doing sprints and lifting those little travel cereal boxes. She sat on my back while I did pushups. The little shit had a great time and kept saying things like ‘Unca Nick, why are you compwaining all the time? This is easy!’”
I press my lips together to keep from smiling. I don’t want Nick to think I find his stories cute, even though they are. “I’m sorry she was underfoot.”
“Nah. I think half the guys in the weight room went home and poked holes in their condoms.”
“I hope not. They’ll forget about sabotaging their birth control and then blame their girlfriends in about three months.”
Nick cocks his head. “You know, for someone who was around athletes a lot, you sure don’t like them. Is that why you left Stacks?”
I flush lightly. The last thing I want Nick to find out is my problems with Chip. While I don’t want to fall into Nick’s bed, neither do I want him detesting me. “Ever think it’s because I’m around athletes so much that I have a low opinion of them?”
“Not really. We both know 99% of athletes, even the professional ones, are decent men. It’s the 1% that make us all look like dicks.”
I want to argue with him, but he’s right. For the most part, all the athletes I’ve come in contact with are okay. It only takes one bad apple to ruin someone’s life though. Chip romanced teenage me until I was dizzy and confused. I lowered my guard, let him in, and he torched my life. I lost my family, most of my friends, and my teen years. But I’d do it over again in a heartbeat because I got Cassidy, and she’s worth walking through fire and back again.
If there’s one thing I can say in Nick’s favor, it’s that he is good to Cassidy. But I can’t forgive or forget what happened all those years ago with Cassidy’s father. No more football players for me, ever. There’s no point in arguing about it with Nick, though. It would require revealing more of my personal life than I feel comfortable with.
“Here are the instructions.” I pull out the sheet handed to me by the fish guy. “This is going to take an hour. The bags go in first, and then once thirty minutes have passed, you mix the tank water with the bagged water and let those float for another thirty. Oh, and you need to send this guy a signed photo made out to his son, Joe.”
“Why the scare quotes around ‘Joe’?” Nick asks. He takes the sheet, looks over the instructions, and then tosses the paper onto the table behind him.
“Because the manager’s name was Joe too.”
“I’ll make it out to Joe Jr. and if he sells it, then, I guess, more power to him. I don’t sign autographs for adults anymore. Too many of them show up on eBay. But I don’t mind if it’s for the kids. The signature means something to them,” he explains.
That makes sense. Nick and I transfer the fish from the styrofoam coolers to the aquarium and then settle on opposite ends of the living room to wait for the fish to become acclimated to their new environment.
“Why’d you install the tank?” I ask. The entire condo is decorated in Charlie’s taste. Other than the game console, there’s not a speck of Nick in this place. It surprises me that he up and got a tank installed.
“You can’t guess?” He looks surprised.
I shake my head. “No. I’ve never once heard you say you were into fish. Or aquatics. Or even pool therapy.”
“Remember that one we saw in the lobby of the hotel near the park? Cassidy couldn’t take her eyes off it. She thought it was the coolest thing.”
“You…you bought this gigantic, expensive thing because Cassidy liked one two years ago?” I ask incredulously.
Nick shrugs. “Is there any better reason?”
Good Lord. Why? Why is he trying to be so danged attractive?
“Stop it,” I order. “Just stop it right now. What’s next? A dog? A pony? A car?”