by May Dawson
“And here I would have figured you for a frappe guy.”
I didn’t know why I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I froze for a second, gauging his reaction, but he smiled. The tightness in my chest eased.
“I don’t like things too sweet,” he said, his voice a fevered whisper; it felt as if his breath scraped my ear. I hated being this close to him.
“White chocolate mocha,” the barista called, setting the cup down on the counter. She smiled at him. “Have a good game, Mr. Kingston.”
“Thank you.” He released me and when I turned around, he held my drink out, an indulgent smile playing across his lips. “You have a sweet tooth, though, don’t you? You’re basically drinking caffeinated hot chocolate.”
“It’s delicious,” I defended my drink, taking it from him.
The barista watched us curiously as she returned to the espresso machine, and I wondered what she saw. I bet to a casual observer, Eli seemed charming and affectionate. I probably looked like a lucky girl.
At the football game, I climbed into the still-almost empty bleachers and sat down, wrapping my hands around the cardboard cup to keep my drink warm as long as I could. Eli was right; it was chilly in the bleachers. There’d been a steady wind all day, the cool held at bay by the sun, but now the wind blew right through my jacket.
I wasn’t used to coming out to football games, and I shifted on the cold metal seat. A few adults came and sat down in front of me—someone’s parents—and they were so warmly dressed and bearing so much stuff they could barely maneuver down the aisle. They unloaded thermoses, seat cushions, and blankets, setting up like they were going to be here all night.
“Hey.” Nick scooted in the aisle until he stood next to me. His walk seemed off, as if he was putting more weight on one leg than the other, but it was hard to tell when he was negotiating the narrow aisle. “You mind if I sit here?”
I was about to say no, since I desperately wanted to sit with Nick, when I decided I should be honest. “My date probably does.”
His head jerked up. “Who’s your date?”
“Eli Kingston.”
“Oh, he’s in the game. You sitting with friends?”
I shook my head.
“You are now.” He had a backpack over his shoulder, and he pitched it to the ground between us before he sat next to me. For a few seconds, we sat in silence, watching the football players warming up on the field.
Eli looked up at me to wave as they were exiting the field, and when he saw Nick, he frowned.
I waved back, pretending I didn’t notice the expression that crossed his face. A spike of guilt jolted me, though. I should at least be respectful if I was going to humor him by going on this stupid date.
Or did I ever really have a choice? I remembered Eli’s victorious gaze as my father grilled me in the entryway, as my father volunteered me for this date, and my guilt dropped away. I might pay later with Eli’s sullen silence—and I knew he’d hurt me, one day, if he got the chance—but for now, I had three hours to spend with a boy I actually liked to talk to.
“Have Kai and Josh been playing since they were kids?” I asked.
“Hmm?” He made an absent noise, and then said, “Oh, yeah. I guess they have.”
“Not your thing?”
“Definitely not my thing.”
“Are you not a team sports guy?”
“I spend enough time with a team,” he said. “Did you see all the testosterone in that house?”
“I did.” All that shirtless, hard-angled, handsome testosterone. Not that I’d noticed. Nick, with his broad shoulders and chiseled jaw, seemed like he fit into that world just fine, so I was curious what was going on under the surface.
I shivered, and Nick’s eyes widened. “You cold?”
“I’m fine,” I said, but he was already unbuttoning the wool peacoat he wore. He slipped it off and threw it over my shoulders.
“You’re going to freeze,” I chided him.
“Nah,” he said. “I run warm. I don’t really need it.”
“You and your brother both,” I said, and then there was an awkward pause between us while I wondered why I’d just brought up Josh.
“Speaking of the devil,” he said, nodding at the field as the Blissford Wolves surged onto the field.
We watched in silence as the game began. Eli started; Kai and Josh warmed the bench. Across from us, the cheerleaders had to be freezing in their skirts. The mascot, a small guy wearing an enormous gray wolf’s head that made him seem like he was stumbling around top-heavy, waved from the sidelines.
“You guys must feel comfortable here,” I said, thinking of Callum’s wolfish art. “Wolves everywhere.”
Nick turned to me in surprise, his lips parting, then shrugged. “I guess Blissford used to have a lot of wolves in the mountains.”
Eli ran hard with the ball, finding a path through the opposing team. The crowd jumped to their feet around us, as if their energy could spur him faster. When he got sacked, he held onto the ball and bobbed up to his feet, raising it above his head. The crowd cheered for him.
“Now they’re just here in the student body,” I joked.
Nick’s eyes seemed to follow mine. The faint lines around his hard-angled mouth were suddenly etched more deeply, making him look older. “I guess so.”
“You guess a lot of things,” I teased.
He leaned back, bracing his elbow on his knee, so he could look at me in the face when we sat so close together. His face changed in an instant, suddenly transforming into light-hearted, handsome flirtation. “Oh, there’s plenty that I know.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“I know that being really good at something like, say, football may make people like you, but it doesn’t mean you’re actually good,” he said. “I know that nice people sometimes miss what’s right in front of them because they think everyone else is just like them.”
The look he gave me was meaningful.
I patted his knee, being purposefully just as condescending as he was. “Trust me, nice doesn’t mean stupid. Nice people can see plenty.”
“And yet here we are,” he said.
“Here I am, sitting next to you,” I retorted. I started to move my hand from his leg, but he rested his hand on mine.
“Your hands are cold,” he murmured, his thumb tracing back and forth across my palm.
I leaned in, close to him, and he ducked his ear toward my lips.
“I’m on a date with another boy,” I said softly, “and you just took my hand. Could you be any more cocky?”
He turned his face into my hair, and I tilted my head, curious what he would whisper back.
“You’re on a date with another boy, and you’re holding my hand.”
I shook my head. “You started it.”
“Just trying to warm you up.” He cupped my hand in his, raising it to his lips to blow on my fingers. His breath, and the grip of his big hands, was warm, and it did feel good on my cold skin.
“I know things too,” I said, gently pulling my hand out of his. “I know trouble when I see it.”
“Yeah?”
“You and your brothers,” I said, “you’re trouble.”
“Good trouble,” he promised me.
“No such thing.”
He shrugged, a lazy rise of one big shoulder. “Agree to disagree. We’ll re-evaluate later when you’ve gotten the chance to know us better.”
“Cocky,” I confirmed.
“Nah.”
The smile that played across his lips was sexy as hell, and even though I’d just pushed him away, it made me fantasize about pulling him close.
He reached into his backpack and pulled out a pair of thick, fleece-lined leather gloves. He held the first one open for me to slip my hand into.
“You had these the whole time and you just wanted to torment my would-be boyfriend?” I raised an eyebrow at him, but slipped my hand into the welcoming warm fleece.
“Okay,
” he admitted, “sometimes I am just trouble. I don’t like that guy. And I wouldn’t mind stealing you away from him.”
“It wouldn’t be stealing,” I said hotly. “I’m not a thing. I can’t be stolen.”
His lips tightened. I thought he was mad, and for a second, silence reigned between us. I stared out at the field, watching players rearrange themselves.
“You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what I was saying.”
The apology startled me. “Oh. It’s okay.”
“And it’s not him I care about.” He bumped his shoulder against mine, flashing me a meaningful look.
“You barely even know me.”
He inclined his head. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”
I tried to hide the grin that came to my lips. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but he had said I guess eighteen times in this conversation.
“What?” he asked.
I raised my eyebrows at him innocently over my cup and took a long sip, avoiding the conversation.
“They’re sending in Josh and Kai,” he said, bumping my shoulder with his. The light-hearted contact sent warmth flooding through my arm.
“At the same time? Bold move. Since no one knows how good they really are.”
Nick’s gorgeous green eyes studied me. For a second, they reminded me of someone I knew, although I couldn’t place who. He promised, “They’re good.”
Josh and Kai seemed as if they knew what the other one was thinking, and they made a successful run up the field. Josh had the ball and Kai ran alongside him. People jumped to their feet around us as, with the opposing side knotting up around them, Kai and Josh almost seemed to collide.
Then Josh burst out of the pack, dragging two players behind him. Kai flipped over the back of one of the opposing players and ran hard for the goal. It took a second for all of us to see clearly. Kai had the ball!
He ran across the goal lines and then turned around by the goal posts. The cheering around me was thunderous, but Kai’s expression under the bright lights seemed confused for a second, as if he was double checking that he had done the right thing. Then he raised his hand, waving to the crowd, as he tucked the ball under his arm.
The team flooded around Josh and Kai. Eli looked up to me, and the expression on his face was thunderous. I gave him an encouraging smile and a wave.
Then, with the noise and chaos blocking any eavesdroppers, I leaned over to Nick. “Does Kai know how to play football?”
He froze, almost imperceptibly, before he smiled. “Doesn’t it look like he does?”
“Yeah. It looks like.”
There was no doubt in my mind that there was something weird about these guys.
Nick shrugged instead of answering.
Something weird, but something wonderful too.
Chapter 17
“Great game,” I said to Eli. We stood at the edge of the parking lot. The Wolves had won.
Josh and Kai were surrounded by a group of teenagers, on their way to the car—the parking lot was noisy and filled with people—but Josh stood almost head-and-shoulders above the crowd. He was a big guy, despite the leanness of his muscle. His gaze ran idly through the crowd until his eyes met mine. His eyes locked on mine.
“Yeah.” Eli sounded as thrilled as he would if they lost. “Well, let’s get going.”
He put his arm around my shoulders, his posture protective, and glared at Josh. Josh stared at him, his expression completely neutral and composed. Deep blue eyes watched us go as Eli pulled me toward the car.
It was only when we were in the car, with the heat blasting, that Eli said, “You sat with the new guy.”
“Well, he sat with me,” I said. “I was already there.”
“Free country,” Eli said.
“That’s right.”
“And you’re a friendly girl.” There was a faint bitterness in his voice, and I had the sense of simmering anger under the surface.
“I try to be nice to everyone,” I said. Saying the word nice made me think about conversations I’d had recently with Kai and with Nick. I don’t owe you anything. Nice people don’t see what’s right in front of them.
“You’re not that nice to me, Piper.”
I glanced at my mirror, at the parking lot full of people we were leaving behind. “Where’s the party at?”
Headlights glowed in my mirror, momentarily dazzling me, and I glanced back at Eli’s face in profile. His lips pressed together.
“Our lake house,” he said. “I guess we have to go.”
“Your parents don’t mind?”
He didn’t bother to answer.
But he did pick up the prior line of conversation, the one I’d hoped he would drop. “You were a little nicer to the new guy than you needed to be, weren’t you?”
“I’m just being friendly, Eli. Like to everyone new in school.” I said it firmly, trying to shut down as much of an argument as I could.
His fingers flexed on the steering wheel. “All right.”
He turned his truck into the driveway. There were already a few cars parked in the driveway, but he maneuvered around them and hit the button on the rearview mirror. A completely empty concrete bay loomed in front of us.
He pulled in, and the garage door rumbled shut behind us. I sat stiffly for a few long seconds, anxious about being alone with him.
But he released his seat belt and came around and opened the door for me before I could get out. His smile seemed stiff, but like he was trying.
He opened the door from the garage to the house. “Come on in. Do you want a drink?”
“I’m all right,” I said. Imagining my instincts relaxing, the tension that kept me coiled up and uncomfortable but also safe, around Eli made me uncomfortable. “Thank you.”
He shrugged and led me into the house. We entered a big, Pinterest-worthy kitchen, with an iced keg sitting on the tile at the end of the island. “Your parents want you to have a party?” I asked.
“You’re only young once, my dad says.” Eli picked a red Solo cup from a stack. “I’m pretty sure he’d go back to high school if he could.”
“Life doesn’t seem so bad for him now,” I said.
“What about your dad?” Eli asked, before taking a long sip of his beer. Foam flecked his upper lip, and he licked it off.
I crinkled my nose. I didn’t want to talk about my father tonight.
“He’s just kind of a mystery,” Eli said. “Moved here out of nowhere, bought the plant when no one thought the McGuires would sell, mysterious wife…”
“You wouldn’t remember my mom,” I said. “Of course she’d be mysterious.”
I didn’t even remember my mother, but I didn’t like Eli talking about her.
“Not me,” he said. “My dad and I were talking about it.”
There was a pile of chips and pretzels in bags at the end of the island, and I set to opening the crinkly bags and rolling down the tops, just to give myself something to do. It was strange to think about Eli and his dad chatting about my father. I tried to imagine the context. Was it about Eli and I dating? Or because Eli’s dad coveted my father’s power, wishing he could consolidate the two factories—and gain complete control of the town?
“That reminds me,” he said. “I’ve got a gift for you. Happy birthday, Piper.”
“Your dad reminded you it’s my birthday?” I said, trying to make my voice teasing.
He nodded. “Come upstairs with me.”
Down the hall, the doorbell rang. Impatiently, he ran and wrenched the front door open. “Yeah, hi, make yourself at home.”
“I don’t know,” I said as he passed me, grabbing my wrist and towing me behind him toward the dark wooden stairs. “My father’s rules definitely include staying out of boys’ rooms.”
“Your father has a lot of rules for you.” His fingers were still tight on my arm. “You ever wonder why?”
“He’s just a control freak.”
&n
bsp; “Yeah. My dad says he says you can’t be trusted to make your own decisions.”
“Great.” I knew when my ego was being played—I was sure Eli was trying to manipulate me now, into rebelling against my father by doing whatever he wanted—but I didn’t much care for the idea of my father discussing my so-called flaws around the poker table.
“I don’t believe that, Piper,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at me. For once, there was a spark of kindness in his eyes. “Your father’s full of shit.”
Strange that Eli was right twice in one night.
“We’re not going to do anything,” he said, stopping in front of a bedroom door, his hand on the knob. “I promise, Piper.”
That promise sounded less like a we aren’t going to do anything and more like I’m not going to do anything to you.
Eli seemed to know my fears, and even though he reassured me, he had to know that I questioned going anywhere with him. I wondered what was going through his head.
He pushed open the door and walked in ahead of me, then picked up a small, silvery-wrapped gift from the foot of the bed. He held it out to me, a smile on his face.
“I hope you like it,” he said.
I hurried to unwrap it. The sooner I opened his gift, the sooner we could go back downstairs into the crowd. Even from here, with the door to the room standing open, I could hear voices and laughter beginning to fill the house downstairs.
I pulled off the wrapping paper, and inside was a long blue jewelry box. I glanced up at Eli. His gaze was intent on my face, a smile on his lips.
“Open it,” he said. “Don’t be shy.”
A beautiful silver-and-sapphire necklace lay inside. When I touch the jewels, they slid over my fingers, heavy and cool. “It’s so pretty.” I looked up at him, confused. This was an expensive gift. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand?” He took the box out of my hand and gestured to indicate I should spin. “Beautiful jewelry for a beautiful girl.”
I turned around, running my fingers through my long blond hair, pulling it up on top of my head in a loose bun. He slipped the necklace around my neck, and I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror that hung alongside his door. He was tall and handsome, his gaze on me hungry. With my hands drawing up my hair from my slender neck and the elaborate jewelry against my throat, I looked pretty—and blank. I stared into the mirror like I was lost in a daydream. Someone who saw us would think, once again, what a lucky girl.
