Page 15

fifteen

Noah

Nobody can ever accuse Bill of not loving his team or his community.

It’s Saturday, right before noon, but that doesn’t mean the sun is shining. It’s gray and overcast, with a light wind dancing through the air. I wag my head as I help Bill—per his insistence—drag a twenty-foot inflatable slide to the center of the town square. He rented the entire park, invited every food vendor he knows, hired a band, and even brought in a petting zoo. He also assigned each member of Granite Ice a game booth to work. He ran out of game booths by the time he got to me, so I got roped into the inflatables.

Despite all this fun, the only thing I can think about is Paisley and why I didn’t try to stop her from leaving. Anxiety attack or not, I was a jerk for not helping her when she was afraid. Even though it turned out to be Bill, she still doesn’t know that. She might still be afraid someone dangerous is coming for her.

In addition to that, I haven’t had time to deal with Bill or even process how messed up what he did was, but that hasn’t stopped him from acting like he owns me. When we have the slide spread out, I grab the security strap closest to me and call to him, “Did you bring the stakes?”

“Ah, I’m letting Red Barn Kabobs handle those.” His lips bend up at his joke, but his gaze is down, as he’s focused on plugging the air compressor hose into the slide.

“Ha ha.” I fake laugh, giving him time to get over his own joke.

He pats his coat pocket. “I must have left them in the trailer.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder back to the parking lot. “Want to run and grab them?”

“I can . . .” I pause and watch Bill crank on the air compressor, the sound filling the space between us, drowning out the warning I was going to give him about waiting to fill the slide until it’s properly grounded.

I sigh, letting it go.

This is Bill I’m talking to.

He does things his own way—the hard way.

The best use of my time is to get the stakes as quickly as possible. I spin on my heel and jog back through the game booths that are already filled with kids.

As I head back, a steady stream of families, couples, and even teens filter into the park. Everyone is laughing and enjoying the day. I admit I was dreading today—as it’s an awful lot of work to throw a carnival—but now that everything is coming together, I can’t help but feel proud to be a small part of it.

I scan the parking lot for Bill’s truck and trailer and I find it backed up against the sidewalk. I pick up my pace and scurry over. Unlocking the back, I find the stakes all tie wrapped together on the floor. That’s easy enough. I grab them and turn to hustle back.

As I cut back through the thickening crowd, a sense of nostalgia washes over me. Memories of my childhood spent playing in this park, specifically hockey on the pond when it was frozen, flood back. I pause in front of the little pond. Kids skate in circles, passing a hockey puck back and forth to Jackson, who got put on pond hockey duty. It’s cute to see the kids swing their sticks back and slam the pucks as hard as they can to Jackson, who pretends to miss each goal. He lets out fake animated sighs of disappointment. The kids all pile around him, each one beaming with a full smile.

Across the pond, Axl and Sophie are crossing the park with arms linked together, coming this way. They make me think of Paisley. It would be fun to experience this with her. I take a deep breath, savoring how I can easily do that again now that my meds are finally working.

It’s funny how I had started to think this team was lame, but when I’m forced to take a step back and look at the big picture, this team and what it does for the community is pretty amazing. I bite my bottom lip, now seeing that my feelings of apprehension had nothing to do with the team, or even Bill. It had everything to do with my desire not to feel as if my life was out of my control.

“Hey.” Axl jogs up next to me, nodding toward the pond. “Think you can take on those kids?”

“I don’t know,” I say with a chuckle. “They aren’t going easy on Jackson.”

Axl snickers while his face takes a more neutral expression. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh, yeah?” I pull my gaze away from the kids to Axl. The sounds of sticks slamming against the pucks echo in the distance. “What about?”

“It’s about my apartment.” He nods across the street at the old building. “As you know, Sophie and I are getting married. We found a house we want to buy outside of town on five acres. I stupidly renewed my lease a couple of months ago. I was wondering if there’s any way you’d want to sublet it.” His expression takes on a mischievous smile. “Unless you like living with Bill?”

“Funny.” I cut my gaze back to his apartment building, having never considered it before. Most of the guys live close to the arena in new apartments, but those are so expensive. This building is old and perhaps affordable . . . “What do you pay?”

“Only six hundred, but it comes with a pet mouse, and you have to promise not to kill him because he’s actually cool. You also must feed him at least once a day, but he surprisingly doesn’t like cheese. He prefers peanuts or dark chocolate—” He interrupts himself and tacks on, “The dark chocolate is Sophie’s fault.”

I stuff my hands in my coat pockets as the wind picks up, and my brow furrows in concentration. I have been meaning to do something about my living situation. I’m not going to find anything for less than six hundred. It really is a no brainer, and I nod. “Yeah, that sounds great. When are you moving—”

A shrill scream spirals from somewhere in the crowd right as a massive gust of wind rips through the park. I take a step back to keep my balance. A ripple of litter cascades through the park as the wind steals napkins from vendors and even a loosely held stroller from a mother. The mom quickly catches it, but my gaze is pulled to another even bigger issue . . .

The slide!

It’s partially inflated and has lifted off the ground like a massive balloon, only held down by the hose that’s attached to the air compressor.

I forgot about Bill!

Axl sees it too, and we take off together.

Bill has been swallowed up by the slide, flattened on the ground, with only his boots sticking out the side. “Bill, just hold still,” I call out, dropping down to the ground by his feet and lifting the slide. Axl comes in beside me, and together we shimmy it off of him before Bill incurs more than a bruised ego.

When he sits up, he wobbles, and the crowd of people surrounding us cheers. We got lucky, and we don’t need to fight about whose fault it is. I hold my hand out to help him up. “Glad you’re okay.”

The wind howls, rolling through the park, and Axl extends his hand to me. “Give me one of those stakes. We need to get this pinned down fast.”

I hand them out, and we scurry around the slide, but it’s as if the weather is mocking our efforts. As soon as the last stake is in, the sky opens, dumping out the hugest snowflakes. It’s a full-blown blizzard, and people run toward the parking lot back to their cars. Axl takes off back through the crowd to find Sophie, and Bill mumbles his way back to his truck.

I should be moving too, but I can’t.

Someone is blocking me.

Someone wearing all black—from her midnight trench coat to her combat books.

Even though she has a hand over her face, shielding it from the snow, it doesn’t conceal who it is. Paisley.

My heart ticks up a notch seeing her. I so want her to be here for the right reasons, but I’m guarded. “What are you doing here?” I ask. “Don’t tell me you got a photo of Bill under that slide?”

Her lips fold in, and she shakes her head. “I wouldn’t embarrass him like that.”

I don’t have anything to add, but I study the inflection in her eyes. They look honest when she adds, “I got a bunch of great photos of you guys. I’m going to write an article on all the charity work you guys do.”

“Hmm.” I shove my hands in my pockets, still trying to understand everything that has happened. My heart is so attuned to her nearness, it hammers against my chest, but I am still so conflicted.

“I quit my dad’s magazine.”

My brows dip down.

“I know I can’t use the magazine as an excuse. I had my own choices to make, but I never want to do anything like that again. I’m going to start my own photography series that highlights sports teams and their community involvement.” She shakes her head, and no words come out for a long beat. Then tear-stained words tumble out of her mouth. “Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”

I do everything I can to ignore that I almost got Bill killed by getting distracted on my way back from getting the stakes—that being only one of the many, many things I’ve done wrong. Like leaving my meds out for Puck to grab more than once. He could have died if he’d swallowed them.

I’ve made so many mistakes.

I scratch the back of my head, pushing all the thoughts away.

She has a point.

Plus, she’s standing in a blizzard, and I can’t help but think she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I don’t want to be bitter. That’s not my nature. One of the reasons I reacted as harshly as I did was because I was having an anxiety attack.

Things are clearer now.

So much clearer.

When I look at her . . . she feels like mine.

I nod, slowly, as I watch the flakes accumulating on her hair, making her even more stunning. “I’ve made mistakes.” I step closer, closing the space between us, and stare into her fiery eyes. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. The truth is that I suffer from anxiety, and I was having an attack. If I had been thinking clear, I would have never let you leave. I'm sorry too.” Her eyes grow even warmer, not for a second losing that fiery spark. I could go on and on to further explain about my anxiety attack, but words don’t sound that appealing to me.

I have a better idea.

One to get us back together faster.

I drop my hand to her waist, pulling her to me, and lower my face until our lips crash together. Hungrily, she kisses me back. Adrenaline floods my veins, fueling a direct shot to my heart.