Page 13

Chapter 13

APRIL

I t was a gorgeous day for a trip to the farmer’s market. Well, it looked gorgeous. The sun shone, the sky was blue, and vibrant green leaves decorated the trees. The September breeze, however, felt like a hair dryer. That was to be expected this time of year. Our area wouldn’t see any relief until about mid-October, and even then, those days were few and far between.

At any rate, I was excited to be out with Billie, even if that meant shopping in an air fryer. Everyone else in Pearville was, too. The parking lot was packed. I zeroed in on the lone spot within a mile radius. I was so focused that I almost didn’t see the flash of black dashing across the parking lot.

Billie screamed, “Cat!” right as I slammed on the brakes. We bounced to a stop, frozen by the close call, and the black feline disappeared into the bushes.

As our breathing slowed, I pulled my Subaru into the spot, this time at a crawl. When I put it in park, Billie looked at me and said, “You’re not going to be weird about that black cat, right? ”

“Of course not,” I replied, but my stomach felt slightly nauseous as I pondered what the universe had in store for me today.

“Because you know bad luck isn’t real.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t believe in it,” I lied as I exited the car.

Billie gave an unconvinced, “Sure you don’t,” which I ignored, forcing myself to focus on the cute booths instead of my impending doom.

Ten minutes into shopping, Billie picked up a little horseshoe charm from a vendor. “Why don’t you get this to offset the bad chi.”

“I thought you said luck isn’t real.”

“It’s not. But the problem is that it’s real to you. So why not make your own good luck to battle the bad? Fight magic with magic.”

“That’s actually—” I eyed the adorable array of charms. “Not the worst idea.” I picked through the options. There was also a rainbow and a four-leaf clover, but then my fingers grazed the smooth surface of a tiny butterfly.

I could almost hear my mom say, Look, a little bit of magic.

I purchased the charm, along with a silver chain, to make a necklace. Now, I’d always have a bit of magic with me.

With the little butterfly on my chest, I stopped worrying about the black cat and just enjoyed shopping. Billie found some mushroom jerky. I bought a box of intricately painted cookies in the shape of flowers. We oohed and ahhed at a booth with braids you could clip into your hair.

Billie stopped to point a carrot at me as we picked our way through a vegetable stand. “Oh, before I forget. I’ve got you down for bringing the artichoke dip to the party.” She was hosting a triathlon party the next day, which was laughable. If there was an Olympic sport for disinterest in sports, Billie would bring home gold every time. She once wore a T-shirt to a Superbowl party that read: I hope both teams lose .

Billie pretended to be offended when I asked her why she was hosting it. “I’m obviously passionate about the sport. I’m a cashier for a triathlon store.” Then she’d straightened her septum ring. “And women who do triathlons have the most spectacular thighs.” And finally, the truth had entered the chat.

I frowned. I always brought artichoke dip. “What if I want to bring something else?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No means no. You’re bringing the artichoke dip.”

“We’ll see.”

She looked ready to argue further when her eyes shifted to the left of my face. “I think I see your coach.”

I swiveled, shamefully fast, at the mention of Gabe. I’d had a hard time getting him out of my head since he’d had his hands all over my leg for that massage. Honestly, I kept having to restart audiobook chapters because it would get to a spicy scene, and I would insert my own fantasy—Gabe running his hand from my thigh to my center. Those long fingers exploring me.

“Stop staring at him like a weirdo and say hi,” Billie said, breaking me from the perverted images my mind liked to torment me with.

Leading Gabe was the pit bull Trevor had given him. The dog’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he pulled against his leash so hard the harness went sideways, giving him an awkward gait as he pushed forward. He wasn’t the apprehensive dog Trevor had found. He had the confidence of a dog who knew he’d have a place to sleep at night.

Busy reading the nutritional facts on a bag of dog treats, Gabe probably wouldn’t have noticed us if I hadn’t said, “He’s looking so much better.”

Gabe looked up, and I watched the question in his eyes turn to recognition. Then his smile stole the show. It was so genuine; my knees felt like noodles cooked al dente. I was pretty sure I had never paid attention to dimples before, and now I was waiting for his to appear.

“Oh, hey!” He looked down at the dog, seeming to slowly piece together what I’d said. “Yeah, he’s coming around. I probably shouldn’t let him pull when I walk him, though.”

“Man,” Billie said. “Don’t stress about shit like that. Rules aren’t even real.”

Gabe tilted his head, and I realized that not everyone was used to the free spirit that was Billie. Finally, he settled on, “I thought it would be a good idea to get Chuck around people—to socialize him a bit.”

“Chuck? Didn’t Trevor name him Beast?” Billie asked.

“He needed a real name. Beast makes it sound like he’s a wild animal. Chuck is dignified.”

“You re named him? That’s worse than naming him.” Billie laughed. “There’s no way you will give him up now.”

“Trust me. This is a limited-time deal.”

I knelt to offer Chuck a hand to sniff. He did a nervous half-circle, head low but tail wagging like crazy. Then he nudged my hand with his snout and started licking. I looked at his too-big-head paired with his stubby legs. “Don’t ask me to explain it, but he does look like a Chuck,” I said .

“Is he already sleeping in your room?” Billie asked.

“Well . . .” Gabe hesitated like he knew his answer was an admission of guilt. “Yes, but not in my bed.”

Billie laughed. “Dude. You are so fucked.”

Gabe, clearly looking for a change in subject from his impending permanent dog ownership, turned to me. “How are you feeling?”

“My knee is so much better. I haven’t had a problem since I was on your table.” I gave Chuck a scratch around his scruff, getting under his harness before standing. “You’ve got magic fingers.”

I heard myself say that and inwardly cringed. Billie’s head snapped my way, and I didn’t dare look at her. Still, I could feel her smirk. My cheeks warmed.

Gabe’s gaze dipped to my cheeks, a bemused smile playing at his lips, but being the saint he was, he didn’t comment on the blush. “Glad you’re feeling better,” he said. “I’ll give you another week before I put running and cycling back on the training plan. Have you been doing the stretches?”

“The stretches, the walking, the swimming.” I made a face. “The ab routine.”

Gabe laughed. “Good.”

Billie’s gaze bounced between us, her eyes narrowing, and I felt like I was under an X-ray machine. Finally, she smiled and settled her attention on Gabe. “Are you coming to the tri-party?”

“That’s tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. April is bringing her artichoke dip.” I gave her a side-eye, but my glare was cut short by Gabe’s answer.

“I’ll be there.” And just like that, I was looking forward to the party.

Chuck had begun sniffing and pulling on the leash—like a kid tired of mom socializing at the grocery store. “I better get him moving. But I’ll see you tomorrow.” Gabe gave me one last smile, and I took a mental picture to hold me over.

When he was out of earshot, Billie grabbed my elbow and pulled me close. “Are we going to talk about your coach giving you a massage?”

I knew she’d make a big deal of it, so I hadn’t told her anything. “Listen. It isn’t a sexy thing. That’s what he does for a living. ”

Her lips pressed into a knowing grin. “Look me in the eyes and tell me having his hands all over your body didn’t make you hot and bothered.” I looked away, and I swear, it felt like even my hair blushed. “You are into him. I knew it!”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool, even though we both knew I was past that point. “He’s cute. So what if I have a tiny crush?”

“ So you should get you some, girl.” She swatted at my butt, but I dodged.

“He’s my coach, Billie.”

“Okay, that would be gross if he was older, but I assume he’s about your age. You are both adults.”

“The coaching company he works for might see that differently.” My eyes followed the edge of the grass as we walked along the concrete path. “Besides, what if it’s one-sided?”

Billie snorted a laugh. “Did you see the way he smiled when he saw you?”

Her words made my own grin appear, but I tried to shove it down. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s just a friendly guy.”

“Mmmhm,” Billie hummed, not entertaining any of my logic. After a stretch of silence, she sighed and then said, “There’s just one thing.”

“What?” I asked.

“For the record, I think you should climb Gabe like a tree.”

“Billie!” I laughed.

“But I heard from Ashley that he doesn’t do commitment.” I kept waiting for her to continue—to get to the problem, but she stopped there.

“Okay. Well, I’m not exactly looking for someone to grow old with right now.”

“I know. But you’ve only had sex with people you were serious with, right?” She was correct. There was Aiden, who I dated for the first two years of college, and then Wyatt. We’d been together for a year, and I’d wondered if he was the one.

“I could do casual,” I said, but the uncertainty in my voice gave me away. I really didn’t know if I could be intimate with someone and not catch feelings.

“Again, I think you should go for it. You’ve been so stressed about this race. You could use a release. Casual sex might be exactly what you need.”

A teenage boy looked our way and smiled.

“Why don’t you say sex louder?” I said out of the side of my mouth. “I don’t think enough people heard you.”

“I’m just saying—” Billie pulled me off the path. “Get it out of your system, but be careful. Gabe is the kind of guy who gives a dog a name and still plans to get rid of him. I don’t want to see you get your heart broken.”

I appreciated her warning, and it gave me a lot to think about, but unable to be serious with her for long, I said, “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be careful.”

“Yeah,” she said, matching my energy. “Use protection on your nethers and your heart.” She jabbed a finger at my chest, then she looked past me at a row of vendors we hadn’t been to yet. “Are you ready to leave? My bank account weeps every time I step into a booth.”

“Yeah, I need to get home anyway. I’ve got artichoke dip to make.”