Beast Behaving Badly Page 35
“Trying to get you to listen to me,” Blayne said.
“I’m not training with you again.”
“Fine. Whatever. But I still want us to be friends.”
She did? “Why?”
“Because I like you.”
“Blayne, no one likes me. Because I’m an asshole.”
“Oh, my God, he’s such an asshole,” the cheetah sneered.
“Unless you want me to beat you to death with that treadmill, you’ll shut the fuck up, basketball player.”
“Can we talk about this outside?”
Knowing she’d stay wrapped around him through the entire conversation if he didn’t do as she asked, Bo stepped off the treadmill and walked into the hallway. “What, Blayne?”
“I wasn’t blowing you off. My friends called me with a slight emergency, and it took longer than I thought it would.”
“A slight emergency?”
“When it’s pup related, it’s always a major emergency to wild dogs. But when I got there it was much less major and more slight.”
“Okay.”
“So you understand?”
“Sure.”
“And I’m forgiven?”
“No.”
She sighed. “Why not?”
“I know this is all fun and games for you, Blayne, but it’s not for me. I’m rigid about my workouts because that’s what keeps me in shape, keeps me sharp. I don’t have time to sit around waiting to see if you’ll show up.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. I did try and call you to let you know I’d be late.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Don’t actually have your phone number.”
Bo blinked. “You don’t?”
“Nope. And I tried calling Ric, figuring he’d have your number, but he wasn’t answering. Probably because he thought it was his dad. They have issues. So I called Lock, and he did answer but I kept asking him for your number and he kept saying, ‘It’s in the river with the honey-covered salmon. I love honey-covered salmon, don’t you?’ And I have to admit, I got a little freaked out, and disconnected that call. And mind you, I’m doing all this while running because I wasn’t sure a cab could get me here fast enough.”
The more he thought about it, the more he realized he hadn’t given her his number. Yet Bo hated giving second chances. People always blew second chances. But she was still wrapped around his neck, her body hanging down his back, and he realized he wanted to give her a second chance.
“I can’t meet you tomorrow,” he said. “I have a breakfast meeting with my agent. But I can meet you tonight. No team practice tonight.”
“We don’t have to keep training if you don’twant to. That isn’t what this is about.”
“I know. But I made a promise. Just don’t blow it, Blayne.”
“I won’t.”
“You need help getting down, don’t you?”
“I am a little high.”
Knowing she could get down herself if she wanted to, Bo still reached around, hooking his arm around her waist, and lowering her to the ground.
He held his hand out. “Phone.”
She dropped her backpack and desperately dug through it, tossing stuff out of it, until she found the phone at the very bottom.
“It’s always at the bottom of my bag,” she muttered, handing it to him.
Bo quickly programmed his cell and landline numbers into her phone. Plus his e-mail address.
“I can get text messages, too,” he explained.
“Can’t everybody?”
“I used to block them, but that irritated my foxes, so I accept them now.”
“All right then.”
“I don’t like distractions,” he complained, handing her back the phone. “So don’t abuse the text messaging.”
“And trying to type with those big fingers probably isn’t easy, either.” When he snarled a little, she held her hands up. “Just kidding. Just kidding.”
“Tonight,” he told her. “At seven. Understand? Not a second late.”
“I promise.” She smiled and Christ, it was like the entire hallway got brighter. “You’re not as much of an asshole as you keep saying you are.”
Yes, he was.
“You’re actually a sweetheart.” She leaped up and kissed his cheek. When she landed, she said, “Tonight. At seven.”
He nodded and turned away while she crouched down to shove everything into her bag. To be honest, he couldn’t watch her handle that mess, so he went back into the gym. The cheetah was still on his favorite treadmill, so Bo yanked him off, slowed the treadmill down, and got on.
“You asshole!” the cheetah hissed behind him.
But Bo just gave him the finger and kept on running, feeling much better.
Sitting comfortably on top of the tall stepladder, Blayne used the claw part of her hammer to pull away whatever weird crap the old owner had wrapped around the ancient pipes. It amazed her what people would do to stop a leak rather than call a plumber. In the end, they had to call a plumber anyway, but the damage had been done and Blayne was forced to charge an arm and a leg to fix the problem they’d created themselves.
“What is that?” Gwen asked about what was wrapped around the pipe and shoveled another donut in her mouth.
“I’m not sure.” Blayne admitted. “And to be honest, I don’t want to ask.”