Page 70 of Hotshot

“The prank war needs to stop,” Riley was saying. “It was out of control last year.”

“Say what?” Smitty bounded forward, his arms raised like goal posts. “You’re just jealous ’cause my team out-pranked yours.”

“No snakes in my rink, Smitty,” Vinnie growled while everyone guffawed.

Smitty turned to me and winked. “They were fake. My kid loves critters and for some reason, Bryson was against getting a real amphibian, so Nathan has a collection of rubber snakes. I took a few on the first week of camp, spread ’em around the rink, and lowered the lights. Those idiots wouldn’t get on the ice.”

“The snakes were moving, Coach,” Denny deadpanned.

“One or two might have been battery operated,” Smitty admitted with a shrug. The group chuckled. “I was thinking of trying out Nathan’s plastic cockroaches this year.”

Vinnie almost choked on a potato chip. “Don’t you dare. Our camper-to-volunteer ratio is too low to withstand any fallout. Behave, Paluchek.”

Smitty lowered his sunglasses and waggled his brows. “I always behave.”

Another howl of laughter. I joined in, sneaking a sideways glance at Denny when his arm brushed mine.

“I’m happy to volunteer if you need any help,” I offered.

Vinnie pointed at me. “Better be sure, new guy, ’cause we’ll take you up on that.”

“I’m sure.”

“Get that man a beer!” Smitty called out, pushing a hand toward me. “Smitty Paluchek. Denny’s old coach. He tells me you’re cool, so you must be. Welcome to Elmwood.”

Someone slapped me on the back, someone took away my warm beer and replaced it with an ice cold one, someoneorganized a volleyball game at the nearby net and included me on their team.

I wasn’t sure what to think of my newest stamp of approval, but I wasn’t complaining.

Denny and I played volleyball on opposite sides of the net, we talked to other people, we lost sight of each other off and on throughout the afternoon, but I was always aware of him. Always. Those secret looks and clandestine touches tethered me to him like an invisible string.

I noticed that Denny was good with kids, liked spicy mustard on hot dogs, and that he loved JC’s potato salad. I also noticed that Mary-Kate stayed close to him…like a doting girlfriend.

The afternoon gave way to soft evening shadows, and though the party was still going strong, I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. I thanked my hosts, slipped out the side gate, and immediately ran into Denny’s friend Niall.

“Mr. Cunningham.”

“Hi, there. Nice to see you,” I said, offering my hand and a smile that felt a tad plastic. Like I was trying too hard.

He stared at my hand for longer than was polite before shaking it in a loose grip. “You know Coach?”

“We just met tonight. I’m a friend of?—”

“Denny’s,” he intercepted. “I know. See you at the mill.”

Niall stepped around me and headed for the gate.

Okay, so that was odd. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I’d just received my first face-to-face “Fuck off and get out of town” warning. And yet, he hadn’t said a word. It was all vibes.

I was halfway down the block when Denny called my name. “Can I get a ride?”

I turned, hands in my pockets, and waited for him. “Are you sure you’re ready to leave? It’s early.”

“I’ve had three beers, and someone was talking about tequila shots. You know how I get.”

“Disaster,” I commented.

“Total disaster.” He quirked his lips. “Save me, Hank. Where’s your truck?”