With a soft huff, he dipped his head. “Yeah, I looked it up and almost called.” He twisted his water in his lap. “But I didn’t know what to say, so I chickened out.”
“What do you mean?” Grabbing his chin, I turned his face toward me. “You just tell them you need a therapist.” I’d never asked for one, but how hard could it be? Especially if the people there had training like Eli’s.
He wrinkled his forehead. “But shouldn’t they understand my problem to recommend the right one?” He gripped his bottle tighter, and it crackled. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, so how can I explain it to someone else?”
I took the water bottle from him and set it on the table, next to mine. “Colton, you can tell them you need a referral for some therapists and then look them up. You don’t have to get into details over the phone.” Was this just an excuse to put it off?
“I…” Biting his lip, he averted his gaze. “Yeah, okay.”
I tugged on his chin, making him face me again. “I have a friend who used to work at the center. Do you want to talk to him first?” Maybe Eli could ease his fears.
“Who is it?” He creased his brows.
“Eli Dawson. He plays for San Francisco now. He’s a linebacker.” I gauged his reaction.
“An NFL player? Hell no.” With a scowl, he crossed his arms on his chest. “I’ll call the center this week and ask for some names.”
“Do you promise?” Although he seemed better already. He hadn’t mentioned his control issue at all tonight. Oh fuck, the refrigerator…My gaze searched his face. But who knew what went on inside his head?
“I promise.” He laid his head on my shoulder and turned toward me.
“Okay.” I didn’t want to hound him about this.
Knocking cracked through the air.
“Oh, our food is here. That was quick.” He hopped off the couch and grabbed the food bag from outside the door.
TEN
COLTON
Thank God the food arrived. I didn’t want to talk about the help center anymore. I’d call when I was good and ready. After setting the bag on the dinette, I took the containers out. “Do we need plates, or are you okay eating from the container?” Why dirty plates if we didn’t have to?
“Containers.” Travis slid drawers out in my kitchen. “Where’s the silverware?”
“On the end. I always put it closest to the table.” Yeah, I had reasons for how I organized my kitchen. I sat in a chair and opened one container.
“Oh.” With a smirk, he grabbed two forks, ripped off some paper towels from the holder on the counter and then joined me at the dinette, falling into the chair next to mine. “Looks delicious.” Handing me a fork, he said, “Oh, our drinks.” He bounded to the coffee table and then brought our drinks to the dinette. “So, I have a bye-week this week.” He twisted his fork in his noodles.
“Yeah? Does that mean you have the entire weekend off?” My heart pattered. Could I spend the weekend with him? But it might be too much too fast.
“I still need to hit the gym, but yes, basically.” He eyed me. “Does Evan have a home game we could attend? Did you talk to him about it?”
Shit, I’d forgotten when we were out last weekend. “No, not yet. But I’m sure he would give us tickets.” Where was my damn phone? I turned, spying it on the coffee table. “Let me check.” I strode to the coffee table, grabbed my phone, and then stepped back, opening my browser to check his schedule. “We’re in luck. He has a game on Saturday night at the Scottsdale Convention Center against Salt Lake City.”
After chewing a forkful of noodles, he said, “Great, that’s near here.” He sipped his Gatorade. “What time is it?”
“Seven.” I set my phone next to my plate and ate some food. The noodles and chicken perfectly combined sweet with spicy.
“How about dinner in Scottsdale before the game?” With a warm grin, he set his fork in his food.
This sounded more like a date. Could we keep it friendly while we were out in public? No one would know us there, so it might not matter. “Yeah, sure.” I stuffed noodles and chicken into my mouth.
“Good, I’ll make some reservations…maybe Olive and Ivy? I’ve heard it’s a pleasant spot.” He drank more Gatorade.
Wasn’t that a fancier place? This definitely sounded like a date. “Sure.” I picked my phone up and opened my text app. “I’ll make sure Evan can get us tickets. But he doesn’t have anyone else to give them to as far as I know.” Unless he’d already given them to the women we’d met last weekend. Shit. We could buy tickets, but they wouldn’t be as good as what Evan could give us.
Colton