Page 10

Chapter 10

Wyatt

I finally manage to shove my mom out the door, my eyes on Moxie’s now-empty parking spot, certain the pavement must still be smoking from her hasty escape. From Moxie’s point of view, my family must look like even the most extreme reality shows would turn us away for our distance from normalcy, but I try to convince myself that she caught us on a bad day.

The watching my location thing is legitimately stalkerish, and it’s a huge boundary issue I’m going to have to deal with, but as a kid, I might have ditched school periodically and given Mom a few reasons to question my common sense. It isn’t surprising she has the urge to keep an eye on me.

Once we started Shred and Tread, it made sense for someone to be able to find me in case I ended up dangling from a cliff and couldn’t be found. Even so, that location sharing is revoked just as soon as I get my hands on her phone. Outside of that, she’s generally a reasonable person and has always been an amazing mom. I love her, but when it involves the Nelsons, all rationale goes right out the window, and both my parents and Hannah’s become different people.

Unfortunately, Moxie has only seen them at their worst. My overbearing mother may have just cost me something that could have been truly special. My ideal person looked like she feared for her life on her way out.

I stomp around the office, rearranging kayak paddles until I accidentally knock over the display of reusable water bottles. “Shit!”

I have to salvage this. I whip out my phone and take a deep breath. I’ve never groveled in a text before.

Me: Would you believe me if I said we’re trying out a new interactive theater called ‘Stalker Parents, they never give up.’

Five minutes of silence. It’s amazing how long each minute lasts when you’re disheartened and waiting for an answer.

Me: Listen, I know we have an agreement, but I won’t hold you to it. If you don’t want to deal with the whole parents fiasco after what you just witnessed, I get it, but let me take you out. You decide what and where, or I can surprise you. Please let me make it up to you.

No typing ellipses, nothing. There may as well be crickets chirping. It’s the sound of loneliness. Guilt stabs me. She didn’t sign up for this. I mean, she did, but there’s no way she understood. I wouldn’t blame her if she decides to ghost me. I angrily restack the water bottles. As I stand up, my breath goes out in a woosh.

Me: I owe you a grand adventure. The best adventure. An adventure that has you lying in bed reliving the moments that warmed your heart, tickled your funny bone, and awakened your curiosity.

I return to my desk and beat my head against it.

Noah peeks around the corner. “Is it safe?”

“Define safe,” I mutter.

“Free of mothers who’ve lost their grip on reality, and of disgustingly cute flirtation?”

“Then yes. No chance I’ll be on the receiving end of flirtations any time soon.” I flop my head into my arms.

“Maybe I should have also asked if it was free of emo business partners.”

I glance up and give him a sarcastic smile.

“There’s my guy. What the hell was all that about?”

When I walked in this morning, I didn’t have a chance to debrief him about the party. He was already nose-deep in spreadsheets, scowling at the screen, and telling me we needed to cut costs. He started spitting out numbers, and my head roiled, so I went to deal with the equipment. That’s where I’m in my element, where I’m comfortable and know what I'm doing.

“Turns out Hannah set us up,” I say.

Noah let’s out a low whistle. “No way.”

“Yeah way.”

Noah sinks into his roller chair and spins it to face me. “I didn’t peg Hannah as vindictive.”

I shake my head. “It’s not like that.”

I spill the whole story, telling him about the party, the pact, and everything that just happened, though he could hear most of it from the warehouse.

“Dude,” he says.

I nod, because what else is there to say?

“That’s messed up.”

“Which part?” I ask.

“All of it. I take it Moxie panicked and fled the scene.”

“She looked like she was confronting aliens eying her for research. She’s going to ghost me. I can feel it.”

“Let’s not catastrophize. Do you have plans to see her?”

“I asked if I’d see her later, and all I got was a maybe. She’s going to cut and run, and I can’t even blame her for it. I know I just met her, but it felt like fate right after I told you I’m ready to settle down and then she lands in my boat. I’m going to lose everything again.”

“Woah, buddy. Let’s have some perspective here. Maybe she’ll ghost you, maybe she won’t, but what’s everything?”

I glare at him. I know I’m being a dick, but I’m feeling panicky and don’t have it in me to care. “Her, for starters.”

“You just met her. You’ve been out with her once,” he says. Someone take a vote because now I'm pretty sure he’s the asshole.

I pace around the office and finally end up with my hands on his desk, glaring at him.

“When you met Mindy, did it feel different?” I ask.

He at least does me the courtesy of thinking about it before he answers, and when he does, it’s reluctant. “Yes.”

I fold my arms in response, knowing I’ve just won my argument.

“Alright, so she’s special?” he asks.

“Yes. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but I feel fucking great when I’m around her. She’s fun. She makes every minute feel like a game, in a good way. She agreed to this ridiculous arrangement, and she’s gorgeous, and I don’t know. It feels right.”

I know I just met her. I know I went into it with my mind set on falling in love, but I also know that those conditions don’t mean it can’t be right. I felt it. It’s more than just a physical attraction. Something clicked.

I look at my best friend who pulled me back together when I was falling apart, the best friend who put all his faith in me to build a business together. We’ve been through it all, and I silently beg him to understand me on this.

“Okay. I get that. Today was not great, but that doesn’t mean she’s gone.”

“You don’t get it,” I whine. “This isn’t three strikes and you’re out. You get one shot, and it’s not even in your hands. Then that rug gets pulled out from under you, and you’re done.”

He stares at me and takes a deep breath. “Are we still talking about Moxie?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask.

He hesitates, and his next words come out quieter. “I’m just saying that Moxie isn’t baseball. And just because something didn’t pan out once, that doesn’t mean nothing ever will.”

A lump forms in my throat, and I shake my head in disbelief that he’d go there. He knows what college was like, when I was supposed to be out on a field, and instead was in a classroom with my arm in a sling. He knows how hard that was for me.

“Wow.” I need space. I stand to retreat to the warehouse, my eyes watering. I was raised knowing there’s nothing wrong with showing my emotions, but I’m pissed, and I don’t want Noah to know just how much he’s gotten under my skin. “I got hurt and my chance was gone. I lost my dream. You think I can just forget that?”

“No, but you found a new dream. We did. And you’re happy, aren’t you?” he asks. Noah’s face reddens as he stands. He looks like he’s reached the end of his rope and I’m not sure if he’s going to shout at me or give up.

That defuses my frustration and I turn back to him. “I am. I love what we do, and I'm so lucky I get to do it with you.”

“I’m glad to hear that, and if it doesn’t work out with Moxie—which I’m not saying it won’t—but if it doesn’t, you’re not going to end up alone. The right person will come around. I’ll hope for your sake that it’s Moxie, but if it isn’t, there are other women out there that would fall for those dopey dimples of yours.”

“I’ve got it bad for her. I’m all torn up. She’s calling me her fake boyfriend and says she wants to keep emotions out of it. That doesn’t sound like someone who wants to be in a relationship,” I say.

“Yeah, that worries me a bit. You’re not really a no-emotions kind of guy. But as much as I give you a hard time, you’re a catch and I’m never going to tell you that again or your head won’t fit through the door. Do the fake date thing if that’s what she wants and be cool about it. She’ll come around.”

“That’s what I'm hoping.” It’s more than hope. I’m counting on it. If a month from now we somehow manage to resolve the feud, and she decides she’s done with me, I’m going to be a mess.

“My fingers are crossed for you. Now, you’ve got a horseback ride coming up. Even better, it’s a full group. You’ve got ten people signed up. You ready for it?”

There’s excitement in his voice. We always get people on our tours, but he’s been stressing that they’re often only half full. I know it’d be better to get more, but I like smaller groups, too.

“What’d the horse say when it fell over?” I ask.

Noah laughs, and I know that we’re back to normal, that he won’t hold my dickish attitude from earlier against me. “I don’t know. What?”

“I’ve fallen and I can’t giddy up.”

“Yep. You’re ready. Now get out there and get a bunch of five-star reviews. We could really use them. Here’s the sign-up list.” He hands it over.

“You worry too much, my friend, but I’ll make sure they have a great time.” I leave him to his work and head back to the warehouse to grab the equipment I'll need.

My watch vibrates, and I trip over myself in my rush to check the notification, hoping it’s Moxie. The text isn’t overly reassuring, but at least she isn’t ghosting me. This is like being up to bat with two strikes and then hitting a foul ball. It’s not the homer I was hoping for, but I’m not out yet.

Moxie: I don’t bail on my commitments.