Page 29

29

Jake

I toss my phone onto the passenger seat and glare at the road ahead.

No new texts from Piper.

Normally, I’d chalk it up to her being busy—she’s always hustling on that blog of hers—but lately, something’s… off. She’s distant, not in the usual I’m too cool for your cocky bullshit way.

More like she’s got a secret she doesn’t want me to see.

I yank the steering wheel around a corner, dust kicking up as I head down the back road to Cedar Creek’s local bar-and-grill. We’re supposed to be having a “real” date tonight, which is a big step for us.

If you’d asked me a month ago, I’d have said I don’t do real dates. But here I am, hair combed, wearing my least-ratty jeans, ready to charm the socks off her. And if that goes well, maybe the rest of her clothes too.

Except my gut says she’s gonna be a million miles away. And that rubs me wrong. After last night, we’re not exactly strangers. She gave me her virginity, for crying out loud. That’s huge. But it’s like every time I reach out, she curls up behind a wall.

And maybe it’s paranoia, but I swear she’s even avoiding my gaze when we’re in public. The old me would call it a red flag and bounce. But the new me? I can’t seem to walk away.

I park in front of the cozy, rustic bar—fairy lights twinkling on the porch, country music drifting out whenever someone opens the door. I spot Piper’s car at the far end of the lot. She’s here already. Good sign. Or maybe she’s just trying to beat me to the punch of leaving early.

I clamber out, smoothing my T-shirt. Relax, Jake. You got this.

Inside, the bar’s half full—mostly locals enjoying burgers and beer. The hostess, Mindy, smiles at me. “Jake! Got your table ready. Your date arrived five minutes ago. She’s in a booth by the window.”

“Thanks, Mindy.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Try not to stare at me too long, I know it’s hard to resist.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes. “In your dreams, Ice.”

I chuckle. Feeling a shred of my old swagger return, I head for the booth in the back corner, where Piper is hunched over her phone. She looks up when I approach, tucks a stray hair behind her ear, and forces a half-hearted smile.

Right. Exactly what I expected.

“Hey,” I say, sliding into the seat across from her. “You start without me?”

She taps her phone screen off. “Just checking emails.”

“Work never ends, huh?” I try to keep it light, but I feel the tension thrumming under my words. She doesn’t respond with her usual witty comeback—just gives a small shrug. Strike one.

Before I can press further, the waitress—a cheerful brunette named Carla—drops by. “Evening, you two. Ready to order?”

Piper clears her throat, glancing at the menu. “Um, I’ll just have water. And maybe a small salad.”

“Salad?” I scoff. “C’mon, that’s not dinner. At least get a burger.”

She flashes a tense smile. “I’m not that hungry.”

Carla’s eyes dart between us. “O-kay, one side salad. Anything else?”

I sigh, giving the waitress a grin. “I’ll take the double bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a sweet tea.”

“You got it,” Carla chirps, whisking our menus away.

Silence settles like a smothering blanket. Piper taps her finger on the table, refusing to meet my eyes. I lean forward, resting my chin on my hand. “You wanna tell me what’s on your mind, or do I have to guess?”

She swallows. “I’m just… tired. We’ve been busy with that kids’ hockey event, plus my blog.”

“Speaking of which,” I say, pushing my luck, “remember how I told you I posted that reply to Penelope Darling’s piece on me?” I watch her carefully. “I never heard back from her. Kinda pissed me off. Figured she’d want to defend her own accusations, but nope.”

Her cheeks drain of color for a split second before she forces a neutral expression. “Uh, right. You mentioned that.”

I tilt my head. “You okay? You look like you swallowed a lemon.”

Piper’s gaze flickers away. “Why would it matter to you if she replied or not?”

I shrug. “I just like finishing what I start, you know? If someone calls me out, I want to talk it through, set the record straight. Silence is cowardly.”

Her eyes widen a fraction, but she stares at her folded hands. “Maybe she’s not worth your time.”

Something in her voice hits me like a false note. But I can’t place it. “Yeah. Maybe.” I narrow my eyes. “You sure you’re not mad at me for something? Because you’re acting like I cheated or forgot your birthday.”

She snorts, a half-hearted attempt at humor. “No, you didn’t cheat. I don’t have anything to be mad about.”

I reach across the table and cover her hand with mine. “So talk to me, Piper.”

She hesitates. Her fingers flex under my palm, but she doesn’t pull away. My heart thuds hopefully. Then, she catches herself, slides her hand free, and gives me an apologetic smile. “I’m just… I don’t know. Stressed about finances. My sponsor pulled out unexpectedly.”

I frown. “That sucks. Is it a big deal?”

She exhales. “Yeah, it is.” Her voice wavers, and for a second, I see a flash of real vulnerability. Then it’s gone, replaced by a brittle calm. “But I’ll figure something out.”

I lean back, letting out a slow breath. At least she’s being honest about that. “You should’ve told me earlier. Maybe we could do more promotions together, boost your traffic or whatever.”

She nods absently, not looking thrilled at the suggestion. “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Carla arrives with our drinks. I take a swig of sweet tea, trying to ease the awkward tension. Piper picks at her water cup, not drinking. The air between us vibrates with a million unspoken things.

How did we go from being in bed together to acting like strangers?

***

We muddle through small talk about the festival schedule until my burger arrives. Piper’s side salad sits untouched. I devour a few fries, chewing thoughtfully.

“So, how’d you like the kids’ game the other day?” I ask. “You seemed pretty impressed with my reffing skills. Hard not to be, I know.”

She musters a tiny smirk. “Don’t get too cocky. The kids are, like, five. I’m sure they’d skate circles around you in another year or two.”

“Probably,” I concede. I can’t help but tease. “But I saw you staring, like maybe you liked seeing me on the ice.”

Her smile fades. “You’re really great with kids,” she murmurs, almost to herself.

My chest warms with pride. “I love ‘em. I know what it’s like to dream of being a hockey star, and I like encouraging that.”

Something flickers in her eyes—fear, uncertainty? She swallows hard. “Must’ve been complicated, though, with Violet’s mom. I mean, becoming a single dad so young.”

I blink, caught off guard by the topic. “Yeah, it was rough. She and I… we weren’t on good terms by the end.” I rub my jaw. “But I never forced her out of Violet’s life, if that’s what you’re thinking. She just… left. Signed away a lot of her rights, too. I wasn’t about to fight it if that’s what she wanted.”

Piper’s breath catches. I see her body jerk like I just slapped her. “She signed away her rights?” Her voice is tight.

I nod slowly. “Pretty much. It wasn’t my idea. Trust me, I’d have given anything for Violet to have a mom around if she was loving and stable. But it wasn’t stable.” I hesitate, then add quietly, “I don’t talk about it much, though. People get the wrong idea.”

She pales, her fingers trembling on the rim of her cup. “Right. The… the wrong idea.”

A cold prickle slides down my spine. Something about her reaction is weird. She’s too tense, too rattled. “Piper, everything okay?”

She forces a laugh, but it’s high-pitched. “Yeah, of course. I just… didn’t realize the situation was like that.”

I swirl a fry in ketchup, my stomach tightening. Is this what’s been bugging her? Did someone feed her a lie? Before I can pry, though, my phone buzzes. I glance down to see Blake pop up on the screen. Normally, I’d ignore a call mid-date, but the tension’s so thick I almost welcome a distraction.

“Sorry, gotta take this,” I mutter, standing to step away from the table. Piper nods, staring at her untouched salad.

***

I duck outside, cold air hitting me. “Yo, Blake. This better be good; I’m on a date.”

His voice crackles. “Look, thought I should warn you: Davidson’s been snooping around the festival stuff. Word is he’s itching to stir drama. Something about you?”

My jaw clenches. “ Davidson, huh? Why would he care about me?”

“No clue,” Blake says. “He’s just… a known meddler. He invests in businesses, then twists arms. People say he’s poking into your personal life. Might want to watch your back.”

My gut twists. “Great. Another old man who thinks my life is his business.” I rub my forehead. “All right, thanks for the heads-up, bro.”

We exchange our goodbyes, then hang up. I stare at the phone, a thousand possibilities spinning in my head. Davidson—didn’t I see him lurking around the kids’ game? The memory niggles at me. And Piper’s been acting weird about Violet’s mother. Could Davidson have said something to her?

A twinge of anger flares. If that jerk is messing with Piper, I’ll wring his neck. She’s fragile right now, especially if she’s dealing with money troubles. The last thing she needs is some rumor about me or my custody situation spooking her.

I re-enter the bar, scanning for Piper’s figure. She’s still at the booth, staring at her phone, brow furrowed. I spot her screensaver—some generic pattern—before she clicks it off too fast, eyes darting up at me.

“Everything okay?” I ask, sliding back in across from her.

She nods stiffly. “Yeah, sure. Just a message from a, uh, sponsor.”

I want to call bull , but I hold back. Instead, I lean in, voice low. “Piper, I gotta know—did somebody feed you a story about me? Because if Davidson or one of his cronies is lying about how I got custody of Violet, I’d like to nip that in the bud.”

Her expression goes guarded. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you freaked out a second ago when I mentioned her mom.” My gaze locks with hers, refusing to budge. “I’m not proud of what went down back then, but I didn’t take Violet from anyone. I’d never do that.”

She flinches, and guilt slashes across her face so fast I almost miss it. “Jake, I… I’m just being overcautious.” She tries for a reassuring tone, but it falls flat. “Like I said, you’re a great dad. I can see that.”

I watch her, suspicion mounting. She looks guilty. Over what, though? Believing a rumor? Publishing something about me? I push the thought away—no, she wouldn’t do that. Would she?

I force a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “All right, Ms. Overcautious. Let’s get out of here, maybe take a walk by the river or something.”

She blinks, like she didn’t expect me to pivot so fast. “Oh… sure.”

I toss some bills on the table for the meal, ignoring that she barely touched her salad. Then I guide her outside, placing a light hand on her lower back. She stiffens under my touch, like she’s bracing for a blow. My heart sinks. What the hell is going on in her head?

We step into the crisp night air, the moon shining on the deserted sidewalk. I slide my arm around her waist, gently pulling her closer. “Piper—tell me what’s wrong,” I murmur.

She looks at me with those big, haunted eyes. “Nothing. It’s just… I’m tired. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?”

I want to press, but something in her expression begs me not to. My chest twists. “Yeah, sure. Tomorrow.”

She nods, relief flickering across her face. “Thank you.”

We walk to her car, our hands brushing occasionally, the tension thick as tar. She unlocks the door, then turns to me. I wait, hoping she’ll at least kiss me goodnight, something to prove we haven’t lost everything we built last night. But she just leans in for a stiff hug.

“Bye, Jake,” she whispers, pulling away almost immediately.

I step back, letting her slip into the driver’s seat. The door slams, and she starts the engine. My reflection in her side mirror looks grim, uncertain, not the cocky hockey player I usually see. With a wave, she’s gone, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

As the taillights fade, I let out a harsh breath. Something’s broken between us, and I can’t fix it if she won’t tell me what’s wrong. The knowledge sears through me, an unfamiliar ache in my chest.

I’m losing her, and I don’t even know how to hold on.