Bedhead: A Romance

by Kayt Miller

  “I asked you when Cooke’s coming back to visit.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. He’ll have the brace on his leg for a long time. Months.” Something that surprised me, honestly, that he’s got to deal with that external brace for that long.

  “Well, he should totally come here to rehab. I bet he doesn’t even go to practices.”

  “No.” I scoff. “What would he do there?”

  “Exactly.” Susanna smiles and nods. “You should ask him.”

  “Oh….” I can’t ask him to come here. What would I say? “Oh, hey, you should totes move here for a few months while you rehab. And by the way, there’s no elevator in my building, so you’ll have to schlep up three flights of stairs to my place.” I look at Susanna. “I don’t know how that would work.”

  “It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Robbi interjects. “Maybe he could rehab with the ISU athletic department. The rugby guys could put a good word in for him. They’d probably love having a professional athlete hanging around.”

  “You think?”

  Robbi shrugs. “Like so many things, I’m just throwing shit out there. Shootin’ from the hip, as they say.” She gives me the pistol fingers, winks, then says, “Pew, pew, pew. Now, let’s go get this fucking walk done.”

  Giggles break out from the entire group.

  Our walk was a blast. I’ve missed the girls, even though I just moved out. They filled me in on the landlord drama. He’s not going to do a thing about the basement. No surprise there.

  “And Aragog?” I ask with a shiver.

  Robbi answers my question. “He’s still down there somewhere. That web in the shower is massive.”

  Patsy sighs. “Robbi’s right. I saw it too. I can’t help wondering what he’s trying to catch in that thing.”

  “A small human.” Robbi smirks. “Watch out, Susanna. Aragog is hungry.”

  “Shut up.” She laughs. “I’m not stepping foot in that basement.”

  Changing the subject, I tell the girls that Tayler and I are planning a little housewarming slash dinner party. “A week from Thursday. I’m not sure of the time, but I’ll let you know. It’s BYOB, but Tayler and I will cook something good.”

  “Ooh, a dinner party? Fancy.” Clapping, Lindsay asks, “Can we bring a date?”

  “Of course. Invite Jack and the other guys. I’m going to invite Bull and Dan.”

  “Mm, Bull,” says Robbi with a husky voice. “That’s a whole lotta man.”

  Laughing, I pat her on the back. “Go for it.”

  “I think I will.”

  Hopping onto a banged-up Bluebelle that I need to get fixed, I wave to the girls as I head for my new apartment so I can get ready for class. “See you guys later. Happy Thanksgiving!”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  “To the swanky new digs,” Robbi toasts, holding up her can of cheap domestic beer.

  The rest of the group hold their drinks up, muttering their agreement.

  “Thanks,” Tayler says with a smile. “Dinner is almost ready. I hope you all like spaghetti.”

  That was my idea. It was either that or chili, and I figured it would be less expensive in the long run to make pasta since our invitation list kept growing. Besides, pasta is filling too.

  “I’m starved,” growls Dan. “It smells fucking amazing.”

  “Garlic bread?” Bull grunts.

  “I made the garlic bread,” says Robbi, who magically appeared next to Bull. She’s even smiling up at him. Robbi isn’t super demonstrative, but she seems to be workin’ it with Bull.

  “Yeah?” he says, looking down at her.

  “Yeah.” She winks at him. “You gonna sit by me, Bull?”

  I’m doing my best not to watch their interaction, but I can’t help it. Especially now that Bull’s face is the same color as our red sauce. “You want me to?” he asks Robbi softly.

  “I’d love it.” Sliding her arm through his, she pulls him over to the sofa and points down for him to sit. When he does, she slides right between his legs and onto his lap.

  “So that’s how it’s done,” I whisper, hoping nobody heard me.

  “With someone like Bull? Yeah. You’ve got to be completely obvious.” Tayler snickers. “Hell, with all guys. Spelling it out is a must.”

  Spell it out. Maybe that’s what I need to do with Cooke. I still haven’t suggested he should come here. I don’t think there’s any way it’s possible. He can’t leave England and his team. Right?

  I nod toward our living room. “Are you spelling it out for Luke?”

  She sighs and looks a little defeated. “Trying to, but… I don’t know.”

  When my phone chimes in my pocket, I snatch it up and quickly press the FaceChat app. Cooke knew about our little party. He said he might call so he can say hi to Bull and everyone else. I smile at his handsome face as soon as he comes into view. “Hi.”

  “Allo, love. Is your dinner party in full swing?”

  “It is.” I flip the phone around so he can see everyone. “Say hi to Cooke, everybody.”

  “Hi, Cooke,” the group shouts.

  When I turn the phone back to me, I say what I probably shouldn’t say. “I wish you were here.”

  “Me too, love.”

  I’m about to ask him about his leg when Robbi comes up on my right. Leaning over the screen, she says, “Cooke. You should come here to rehab.”

  Cooke is quiet. “Well—”

  I feel my phone being pulled from my fingers by some long thick ones. “Cooke. It’s Bull.”

  “Hey, mate.”

  “We’ve got a state-of-the-art facility here, man. I bet if I talked to Coach, he could pull some strings.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Let me check on it, man. You could work with us even from the sidelines. That would be fucking epic, dude.”

  I’m speechless. Not because Bull has taken the phone but by the sheer number of words that just came out of his mouth. He’s a downright chatty Cathy with Cooke.

  “I’m not sure I can, Bull. My contract may prohibit me, but I’ll check. I’d love to be there with Quinn and you lads.”

  Oh my God. I’m practically shaking from excitement. I want to jump up and down and tell him to come. To please come. But I can’t. Where would he stay? He wouldn’t be able to do the steps here, and a hotel is out of the question. That’s too expensive.

  Bull hands me the phone. “Talk him into it, Quinn.”

  Is Cooke nervous? “Sorry about that. You’ve got a lot of people who care about you here. Me included.”

  “I’m not opposed to the notion. I’ll have to give the front office a call.”

  “Are you really interested?” I can’t believe this.

  “I am. But don’t get your hopes up just yet.”

  “I won’t.”

  When there’s a knock on the door, Tayler rushes over and opens it. “What’s all this racket?” asks Vic. His brows are furrowed, and his voice sounds scratchy. The old fart.

  “Hang on, Cooke.” Setting the phone down on the counter, I put my hands on my hips. “It’s seven o’clock, Vic. We don’t even have any music on. We’re not making a damn racket. Don’t be a party pooper.”

  He chuckles. “Spitfire, where have you been all my life?”

  “Around. Now, do you want to join us for dinner, or are you going to be a cranky old fool?”

  “I smelled it all the way down at my place. Course I’ll eat.” Then he adds softly, “If you’ll have me.”

  “You’re always welcome, Vic. You and Mary.”

  “She don’t like crowds.”

  No, I bet she doesn’t. I found out that she was in an underground dog fighting ring. The poor thing was left for dead. Thankfully, a whistleblower led the police to Mary and several other dogs. Some weren’t as lucky as she was. How can people be so cruel?

  “Love?”

  Oh shit. Picking up the phone, I smile. “Sorry.” I giggle. “Here, meet Vic.” I step over to the old coot as he talks to
Robbi. “Vic, say hello to my boyfriend.”

  “Boyfriend, eh? Where’s he been? I ain’t seen him around. If I was yours, I’d never let you outta my sight.”

  “Vic.” I laugh. “That’s creepy as hell. You’d lock me up or something?”

  Everyone laughs.

  Vic puffs out his chest. “I’m not a creep. I’m just saying—”

  Interrupting Vic’s mini rant, I say, “Cooke, meet Vic. He owns our building.” I turn the phone and hand it to Vic.

  “You tryin’ to steal my girl, Vic?” asks Cooke. I’d love to tell you his tone was jovial, but it wasn’t.

  “Nah. You look like you could kick my ass.”

  Now Cooke laughs. “I live in England, Vic. Otherwise, I’d be there watching out for my girl 24-7.”

  “Creeeepppyyyy,” I singsong.

  Everyone laughs again, even Vic. Even Cooke.

  Taking back the phone, I turn it to face me. “I’d better go. Dinner’s ready. Call you later?”

  “I’ll be here.” He chuckles. “Have a good supper, love.”

  Turning away from everyone, I whisper to him, “I wish you were here.”

  He whispers back, “Me too, love. Miss you.”

  “Miss you too.”

  After we hang up, Tayler and I start dishing out the grub. When Robbi makes her way to the front of the line, I give her my stink eye.

  “What?” she asks, feigning innocence.

  “Bull did not come up with that idea for Cooke doing his rehab here on his own.”

  “Well, I may have suggested it. But he loved the idea.” She shrugs. “Now, let’s see what happens.”

  “Don’t break his heart,” I say softly as she takes her plate. “Bull, I mean.”

  Robbi blinks at me. “I’ve had my eye on him since the party at the rugby house. I’m serious about seeing what happens if he is.”

  “Oh, he is.” I nod toward the couch where Bull is sitting. He’s not eating, even though he was the first in line. Instead, he’s watching us. More specifically, he’s waiting for Robbi. “Go on. He’s waiting for you.”

  “He’s seriously hot,” she mumbles. “And sweet.”

  Dishing some food up for myself, I eat at the kitchen island with Patsy and Tayler since there’s no room anywhere else. As I look out at the group in my living room, a sense of satisfaction comes over me. I’ve got friends. Good ones. And they’re all right here with me. All but Cooke.

  Hell, even Luke showed up. He’s got to head back to work right after he eats, but I feel like that was a big step for him. I know he’s not here because of me; he hasn’t left Tayler’s side since he walked in the door. I’m proud of my best friend, holding her ground even though I know she wants to jump his bones. I’ll just have some faith that things will work out for her. For now, I’m going to appreciate what I have. Because I’m happy.

  “Fine food, ladies,” says Vic.

  “Deli-fus,” says Dan with his mouth full.

  “There’s cake too,” I tell them.

  The room is quiet for a moment until Bull shouts, “Fuck yeah!”

  “Eat up,” I say, sipping my water. “There’s plenty for seconds.”

  Now it’s Dan’s turn. “Fuck yeah!”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  “Can you believe it?”

  I look up from my textbook at Dan as I study for my final exam in art history. It’s going to be a bitch. My grade is a solid B, so I hope I don’t screw that up. The chances of me giving it a bump up are slim to none since Dr. Connolly’s classes are notoriously tough. No, I’ll happily take a B, but I’ll have to slay this exam in order to keep it.

  “Believe what?”

  “About Cooke.”

  I set my pen down. God, is he hurt? If so, how did Dan hear about it before me? I’ve talked to my boyfriend almost every night, and if we don’t FaceChat, we text. So, if there’s anything to hear about Cooke, I’d know.

  “Believe what?” I ask again.

  “Coach told us he’s coming here. He’s going to work with the team.”

  Okay, this is all news to me. What the hell? “When did you hear about it?”

  Dan holds up his phone. “Bull sent a text about five minutes ago.”

  So Bull knew Cooke was coming to Ames before I did? “Word spreads fast, huh?” I’m not about to admit to Dan that I’m in the dark about this since I knew nothing about his injury in the first place. “Cool, right?” I chuckle.

  “It’s awesome. Well, gotta go. I’m late for a test.” I watch Dan turn on his heel and jog out the library doors.

  A week ago, at our dinner party, Bull suggested Cooke rehab here. In that time, Cooke hadn’t brought it up again. I thought it was because he a) didn’t want to or b) found out he couldn’t. Cooke did ask for Bull’s phone number, which I thought was a little odd but not really. The two of them had become friends, of sorts. But this is all a shock. And the fact that Dan and Bull knew before me?

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  I grab my phone, making sure it’s on silent so the dinging of text messages doesn’t disturb anyone.

  Me: You’re coming to Ames to help the rugby team?

  I don’t have to wait long.

  Cooke: Bloody gossips. I told them to keep it to themselves. I wanted to surprise you.

  Oh, that’s kind of sweet.

  Me: So, you’re seriously coming to Ames? For real?

  Cooke: It’s real, but not forever, sadly. But our physio, an American, worked it out with your uni. They’ve never rehabbed someone with my injury, so they think it will be an educational opportunity for your physio students.

  Me: That makes sense.

  Cooke: And I’ll help the rugby lads from time to time.

  Me: They’ll love that. Well, if Dan’s reaction is any indication, they’re thrilled.

  Cooke: Aye. I’m thrilled too. But not for that reason. I’ll get to be with you for a few months.

  A few months. But then what?

  Me: I live on the top floor. There’s no elevator.

  Cooke: I’ll stay at my place. There’s an elevator, remember?

  Me: At your place? I thought you said you didn’t buy that condo.

  Cooke: When you asked, I hadn’t yet. But I wanted it in case you needed it. Now I’m glad I did. Then you can move in too.

  Me: Cooke, I live with Tayler. I signed a lease. I can’t just move out.

  Cooke: Then you can stay with me as much as possible.

  Me: I guess I could.

  Cooke: Bloody brilliant.

  Me: When will you be here?

  Cooke: I’ve got some things to do here. The plan is before New Year’s. Saffron’s going to house-sit after she gets back from the States.

  Me: ?

  Cooke: She’s going to fly over with me to help me with the travel part of it. She’ll stay a fortnight to help me get settled. Then she’ll stay here and take care of my flat.

  Me: It’ll be fun to see Saffie again. I can’t believe you’re coming here and you didn’t tell me. You’ll be here for New Year’s Eve?

  I’m vibrating I’m so excited.

  Cooke: Aye. We’ll bring in the new year together.

  Me: I can’t wait.

  Cooke: I’ll let you know my flight information. We’ll rent a car, so no need for you to do a thing.

  Me: Okay. I love you.

  Cooke: I love you more.

  I can’t study. How can I when I Cooke is coming back? But I must. Saying softly, “You can do it, Quinn. Focus,” I open my book again and stare down at the page. Gothic architecture. Since the exam is comprehensive, I need to review everything from the beginning. I remember telling Cooke about this chapter, and he mentioned the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. Paris. Maybe we could go sometime. It’s just right over the English Channel. Well, under it. The Chunnel takes you to France. I’d also love to go to Italy to see the Sistine Chapel.

  “Focus,” I growl to myself. Pulling out my notes from early in the semest
er, I turn to the page I need and smile. I doodled “Quinn Thompson” in the margin. “What a silly girl.”

  I stare at the swirling letters for a second or two when it hits me.

  For the first time in my life, those doodles aren’t crazy.

  Chapter Fifty

  Cooke: Be there in ten minutes.

  I stare down at his message as butterflies fill my belly. Cooke is ten minutes away from his new home. I’m waiting just inside the door because it’s as cold as a witch’s tit outside. At least the storm that was forecast has held off long enough for his plane to land. I know he knows what snow is, but I don’t think he’s ever experienced an Iowa winter before. I urged him to tell Saffie to drive slowly and carefully on the way home and to be cautious on bridge overpasses because they freeze first. He assured me that she was a skilled driver and not to worry.

  I’ve still worried.

  I concentrate on my breathing because I’ve been a nervous wreck all day. Checking my phone again, I see movement from the corner of my eye. My head jerks up just as a large black SUV pulls into the driveway. I know it’s him because the thing looks like it’s probably worth seventy-five grand. Just kidding. It does look expensive, though.

  I push open the door and step onto the sidewalk that has been cleared of snow and salted to melt the ice. I’d like to run to him, but I know I’ll wipe out if I do. Just then, Saffie jumps out of the car first, squealing, “Quinn!”

  “Saffie.” I move to her and wrap her up in my arms. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “It’s bloody frigid here, Quinn. You should’ve warned me. I didn’t pack for this.”

  I roll my eyes. “I told your brother.”

  “Figures,” she mumbles.

  Then I see him through the windshield. His face is so handsome. He’s still got his beard, which will be good for the winter months, but the smile peeking out from his furry face is what takes my breath away. “I love him so much.” It’s just a whisper. I’m saying it to myself, honestly. But Saffie hears me.