Page 42 of The Friends and Rivals Collection

OF COURSE A FOUNTAIN

Axel

Eight more hours and I can leave.

“You’d think it’d be easier to get out of town and change your flight,” I grumble to Carter on the phone as I nurse a coffee, heading toward the fountain that we passed on the bike tour yesterday.

“You’d think it’d be easy because you want to run away,” Carter says, all nonchalant as he works out, the sound of pump-me-up music in the background of our call.

“Fuck you,” I say, because damn, my brother figures me out too easily.

“Fuck you too. Also, I know that your fuck you loosely translates to my little brother is right .”

I snort, all defiant. But also damn curious. I take the bait. “How do you figure I want to run away?”

“You like to jump ship when you’ve had enough,” he says in a simple, damning assessment. I slow my pace at the street corner, the fountain one block away.

I want to deny it, but dammit. I can’t. “You dick.”

He laughs. “So, are you running away from Hazel?”

“No,” I bite out quickly then sigh, giving in. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Why is the question of the hour, of the week, of the whole year.

It’s the question of my life. “Because we work together, because I made a promise to myself, because I made a wish on a fountain.” But that barely scratches the surface.

“Because I don’t want to disappoint our readers.

Because I don’t want to have tricked everyone.

” There it is. The core of the painful truth.

I don’t want to fool others, but I also don’t want to fool myself.

I don’t want to be a mark or to make others a mark.

Which means…I’m trapped.

“And?” Carter asks.

I’ve told him the whole damn story of the trip. Of Hazel and me. What else is there to say? “And what? I just gave you the answer.”

“Good. That’s an excellent step. But take another one.”

I knit my brow as I reach the huge Gefion Fountain, where stone oxen pull a plow, driven by a Norse goddess. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere for my life. “There is no next step,” I say.

Or maybe there’s no metaphor. Maybe I should just stop pulling a pointless plow.

He scoffs, huffing as he climbs endless stairs at the gym. “You came this close and you’re going to stop?” He sounds shocked—disappointed too. “Do you just stop writing before the climax?”

“No. Obviously.”

“So finish the job, Axel. Tell her. Stop running away. Just stop stopping,” he says, and I bristle.

“This isn’t law school,” I counter, but with each assessment he levels at me, another layer of my defenses slips away.

“I didn’t say it was,” he says, and he’s firm. He’s not bending. “All I’m saying is you’ve been crazy for her for a long time, and you’re this close and you just shut down.”

“How do you know I shut down?”

“Because I know you. Because you’ve conned yourself most of all—into thinking you need to shut her out to protect yourself.”

I swallow, feeling naked and embarrassed. Unable to counter him. I have no move to make because he’s right, once again. Maybe the long con of my wish on a fountain is that I’m my own mark. I grumble, then mutter, “It’s so irritating when you know exactly what I’ve done.”

He laughs, deep and satisfied. “Tell her how you feel. Just finish the story.”

I drag a hand through my hair, as if I can undo everything I’ve messed up. But I don’t have to undo it. Hazel’s already forgiven me. We’ve already moved on. We’ve already started over. But then I did what I’ve done before— I stopped .

She might be the one who left yesterday, but with my cold, dismissive goodbye, I’m the one who walked away.

I have to stop leaving. And I have to start walking toward her, no matter the risk. I can’t keep this wish secret any longer. “I’ll tell her I love her when I return to New York,” I say, and Carter slow-claps from across the ocean.

A throat clears behind me. I spin around.

Jackie is here. The blonde booklover smiles like she has a secret. “You could tell her sooner.”

Alecia and Maria are with her too. I end the call quickly, then ask, a little amazed, “How did you find me?”

Alecia rolls her eyes and points to the water dancing across the stone, then all the coins sparkling under it. “We thought you might be here. You’ve got a thing for fountains.” Then she smiles and says, “And for Hazel.”

Does everyone see through me? Maybe I haven’t conned anyone at all. Good. That’s good. That’s damn good.

“I do,” I admit. I’m over fighting my feelings. “I’m in love with her.”

Jackie squeals. “That’s soooo great.”

“You don’t care about what it might do to?—”

Jackie shakes her head and pats the stone edge of the fountain. “Sit, and let’s come up with a plan.”

And that’s that. They’re not worried about a book. And honestly, I’m not either.

So I sit on the edge of a fountain, and I let them help me come up with a plan. It’s nice that I don’t have to plot alone.