Page 56 of Total Shutdown

I lightly drum my fingers against my bottom lip. It’s a genuinely tough decision. “What model and color are we talking about?”

In the past half hour since we all sat down for the game, Ezra has told me stuff about bikes I never knew myself. According to Alyssa and Dom, he’s switched out Fortnite for motorcycle magazines and has an obsession with the latest biker documentary just released on Netflix.

“Oh, that’s easy,” he replies, voice animated. “The CVO Road Glide ST in black.”

My lips form aOas I blow out a hot breath. “Yeah, she would be something else.”

He folds his arms across his chest, sitting back in his seat. “If one of those were on the table for me, Dad would never lift the Stanley, period.”

I snort out a laugh, attracting attention from Kendra and Jenna, and they smile sweetly, both of them enamored with the boy sitting beside me.

“I think I’d sacrifice the bike for your dad’s dreams,” I reply quietly.

Leaning down to grab his popcorn, he topples it over, cascading across the floor.

His shoulders slump, but he doesn’t let the accident deter him from his thoughts. “You would? I mean, you’d pass up the CVO?!” he exclaims, disbelief in his voice.

I pick up my bag and unzip it, pulling out a bag of jelly beans. “I think, sometimes, life is about compromise or just finding the joy in others living their dreams.”

I can’t lie; these past few days have been emotional for me, and the look in Ezra’s green eyes as he absorbs my words brings a glaze to mine as I recall the conversation in the Japanese garden. It was the most vulnerable I’d been in a long time, and I liked how it felt.

Ezra draws in his bottom lip, fixing his attention on the game as the first period ends and the players skate off the ice, number twenty-nine tipping his head over his shoulder toward our box.

As Alyssa finishes cleaning up the popcorn, I open the candy and offer it to Ezra. “Want some?”

He takes the packet from me and shakes it. “There aren’t any red ones left.”

I catch sight of Kendra. Shaking her head in a way that depicts awe, I know she’s recognizing another passion I share with Sawyer’s son.

“I, um … might’ve already eaten those ones.” I wince. “Red jelly beans are kind of my favorite.”

He deadpans, pure adolescent-style. “So, you thought you’d try and pass the rejects off on me?”

I reach down into my bag, pulling out a second—this time unopened—packet of jelly beans. “I mean, I have these, too, if you’re interested?”

His eyes light up as I open the bag and spill a few out onto the small table separating our seats.

“Green ones are gross. I hate them with a passion,” Ezra says, finding the first red one and popping it into his mouth, followed by a second.

“Don’t have too many of those. You’ll ruin your dinner when we get home,” Alyssa calls across to us, and I throw her a reassuring wink.

I can’t be sure if she thinks something’s going on between Sawyer and me, but if she does, I don’t see an ounce of animosity in her eyes. They’re good people, family-oriented and so caring of Ezra.

Despite their welcoming nature, I couldn’t feel any more out of place or unsuitable for the Blades captain. Family life like this is an alien concept to me.

My stomach knots as I tip a few more out before resealing the packet. “Go ahead and finish them up.”

“You aren’t going to have one?” Ezra asks.

I shake my head, leaning down closer so only he can hear. “I’m not all that hungry. You take these for dessert later.”

I pass him the bag, and he takes it, slipping it into his jacket pocket, which is hanging on the back of his chair.

“For saying you’re old, you sure act like you’re a college girl. Are you sure you aren’t lying to me?”

He quirks a brow, and I blow out a laugh, garnering attention from everyone around us.

“I’m sure. And less of the old. That’s something we reserve only for your dad and his wrinkles.”