A five-minute walk later, we reach the park and find a spot in the grass beneath a tree, the shade providing a much-needed cover from the blazing summer sun.
We sit and Xander stretches out his long legs. It’s a little more awkward for me in my skirt, but I manage.
He opens the bag and hands me my sandwich and water bottle.
“It’s a nice day,” he comments, pulling out his own sandwich. “Don’t you think so?”
I fight a smile. “Are you seriously talking about the weather right now?”
He cracks a half smile and a bubble of laughter bursts forth. “Yeah, sorry.”
I smile and unwrap my sandwich. “Talk to me about anything but the weather. Please,” I beg, brushing an invisible crumb from my skirt.
He plays with the paper wrapping his sandwich. “If you were one of the Halliwell sisters, which one would you want to be?” He asks. “Is that better?”
I laugh. “Yes, and I’d want to be Piper. She seems like the most level-headed one—plus, who wouldn’t want to freeze time? What about you?” I take a bite of my sandwich.
He ponders it for a moment before finally saying, “Prue. She can move shit, and that’s pretty awesome.”
“Poor Phoebe,” I comment. “She only gets to see the future—and call me crazy, but I wouldn’t want to know that.”
He nods in agreement and takes a bite of his sandwich. “I think our futures are always changing.”
“You do?”
He chews and swallows. “Well, yeah—think about it. A decision you make today might affect something down the road and so on and so forth—just like we’re always changing as people. Nothing stays the same so who’s to say that the future will stay the same too? It has to be like the ocean, always moving like a current.”
“Wow,” I say, a tone of laughter to my voice. “You’ve given that a lot of thought.”
He shrugs. “I’ve had to.”
“What does that mean?”
He sighs and stares toward the sun, his eyes narrowed into slits. He turns to look at me and I can’t quite decipher his expression. “A story for another time.”
I’d normally pry to get information out of him, but something tells me not to press my luck.
We eat in silence for a little bit until he says, “Have you figured out your major yet?”
I sigh. “No.” I pull up a blade of grass and rip it between my fingers like it’s personally offended me in some way. “I have no idea what makes me happy. I just … I don’t want to be a teacher, I don’t want to be a lawyer, or an accountant. There’s nothing I want to do.”
He presses his lips together and his tongue sticks out slightly—a telltale sign that he’s thinking deeply. “What about something with sports? You love football. You should do something that makes you happy.”
“Well, I can’t play sports, for starters.”
He laughs. “I was thinking something more along the lines of physical therapy.”
“I failed health class my sophomore year—I don’t think I possess the smarts to do that.”
His laughter booms around me. “I forgot about that.”
“I was so embarrassed,” I mumble. “Who fails health class? Me. That’s who.” I point to myself, and we both laugh.
“Just think about it,” he tells me. “Maybe something will come to you.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “The fact that you think I haven’t thought about it at all is mildly offensive.”
He sobers. “No, I know that you have, but sometimes we get caught in the everyday and forget to think about the tomorrows. The tomorrows become the forevers so don’t ignore them.”
“You know, you’re pretty smart for a jock.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Thanks, I think.”
Music begins to play from somewhere in the park and I grin. I jump to a standing position and hold my hand out to him. “Come on, let’s go.”
He takes my hand and gathers up our trash to throw away in the other.
Together, we make our way toward the sound of the music and find a girl, maybe sixteen years old, playing her guitar and singing in front of the fountain that marks the center of the park. Her hair is a rainbow of colors and she sings with all the love and passion I wish I had for something. Her eyes are closed and she’s so absorbed in the music she doesn’t even know that a crowd has gathered around her.
I smile as I watch an older couple nearby. The gray-haired man reaches for his wife’s hand and places his other at her waist. She beams up at him, clearly still as in love with him today as she was many years ago, and they dance to the music.
I look away and back to the girl, swaying slightly to the beat of the music.
Finally, I can’t take the itch beneath my skin a second longer.
I step out of my heels and hand them to Xander. “Hold these.”
“What are you up to?” He narrows his eyes on me.
I don’t tell him. I show him.
I run for the fountain and cry out with joy as I step into the cold water. Someone will probably come and yell at me to get out, but for the moment, all I want to do is be crazy.
“Thea!” Xander calls out and I find him in the crowd. He’s shaking his head but sporting the biggest grin. “You’re crazy!”
I lift my arms above my head and spin around. “Better crazy than boring!” I call back.
His answering laugh echoes through my ears.
I close my eyes and a smile graces my lips as I dance through the water, spinning in circles. If I’m not careful, I might fall, but I can’t bring myself to care—and heck, if I did fall it would make for an even better memory.
When I open my eyes, Xander stands in front of me at the edge of the fountain. I run into his arms, giggling like a little girl, and dive into his arms.
He grasps my legs and swings me up into his arms. “Are you Prince Charming?” I ask with a laugh.
He grunts. “I’d rather be Peter Pan.”
“Why?” I ask, curiosity leeching into my voice as he carries me to a bench.
“Because Peter Pan never had to grow up.”
“You never want to grow up?”
He nods. “No.” He bends down and grabs my foot, putting one shoe on. “But you must be Cinderella since it appears you’ve lost your shoes.”
“Well, you put it on—so like I said, Prince Charming. Besides, I think it’s a little late to be Peter Pan.” I lower my voice to a hushed whisper. “In case you didn’t notice, you’re all grown up.”
He laughs as he puts the other shoe on me. “Unfortunately, I noticed.” He stands up straight and extends his hand to me. “All right, Cinderella, we better get back to the ball—and by ball, I mean work.”
I pout. “The ball sounds more fun.”
“For once I’d have to agree with that. The Hallman account is kicking my ass.”
I frown. “I’m sorry.”
We start back through the park, and after a few minutes of silence I ask, “Are you happy?”
“Yeah,” he answers immediately, looking at me like I’m crazy for thinking he’s not.
“I don’t mean in general,” I clarify as we walk, waving my hands wildly like that will help drive home my point. “But working there—architecture, does it make you happy?”
A shadow passes over his face. “Yes,” he answers, but it sounds robotic, and I don’t believe him for a second.
It was only minutes ago that he told me I should do something that makes me happy, yet I can tell this doesn’t make him happy.
Are we all fools to think there really is such a thing as true happiness in this world?
Or are we all destined to live a lie spun of our own delusions?
I walk off the field, sweat beading on my face. I’m exhausted. I thought college ball was bad but it has nothing on the pros. It’s absolutely grueling and yet, I love it.
My practice schedule makes working for my dad difficult but not impossible. I know my life would be
a hell of a lot easier if I would tell him and quit so I could focus on football completely, but for right now I want to keep this to myself for as long as I can. It’s difficult, considering there’s a lot of people out there who know I’m on the team—and this is my home state, which increases the odds of someone recognizing me. My college coach and teammates all know—all except Cade. I know Cade won’t understand when I tell him—which I will, I’ll tell them all—but I hope he’ll be able to forgive me since we’ve been friends since we were in diapers. Although, I conveniently forget that I married his sister—yeah, after he finds out about that and coupled with this … I might lose my best friend.
A sharp pang pierces my chest as I head for the showers.
I remind myself that even if he gets pissed—which he will—he’s a pretty chill guy and he’ll eventually come around. Unfortunately, I’ll probably have to let him punch me before he feels better.
I finish my shower, change my clothes, say my goodbyes to a few of the guys, and head out. I’m exhausted and my body aches all over. All I want to do is get home and tumble face first into bed.
I yawn as I head to my bike with my gym bag slung over my shoulder.
Bed.
I am going home and going to bed.
Forget dinner. All I need is sleep.
Unfortunately, I’m going to hit peak traffic time, which means the normal forty-five-minute ride home will be closer to an hour and a half.
I fix my bag onto the bike, slip on my jacket and helmet, and get out of there.
An hour into my drive, I watch, stunned as the fluffiest dog I’ve ever seen darts out into the road and into traffic. I slam on my brakes and the car behind me honks its horn. The car in the lane beside me doesn’t see the dog in time and hits it.
Time seems to stop.
My bike passes the dog, lying there on the ground, and I see the blood matting its fur, and something inside me breaks. I can’t leave this dog here to die alone. I veer off the road and park on the side. People honk at me as I run across traffic to get to the dog but I don’t give a fuck; I’m not leaving it there.
I pick the dog up in my arms and carry her over to the side by my bike. She looks up at me with big, pleading, brown eyes and her breath is labored. “I’m going to help you,” I tell her, and she blinks like she understands.
I fish around in my bag for my phone and call the most recent contact.
“Hello?” Thea picks up.
“Thea,” my voice cracks.
“Xander?” She sounds worried. “Where are you? Are you okay? Oh, God, please tell me you haven’t been in an accident.”
“I’m fine,” I assure her. “But there’s this dog, it got hit by a car and-and I can’t leave her here to die, I need to get her to a vet. I can’t take her on my bike, though. I need you to come to me.”
“I don’t have a car,” she reminds me.
“You can borrow my truck.”
“Oh, right. I guess so. Text me where you are. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
“Thank you.” I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“And Xander?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
I chuckle. “Never.”
She hangs up and I text her my location before I put my phone away.
I look down at the helpless dog in my arms as the traffic passes us by.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her, searching for the spot where the blood is coming from. I lay her down and remove my jacket and then my shirt so I can use my shirt to help stop the bleeding. I’m not sure if that’s what you’re supposed to do, but it seems like the logical thing to do, so I’m going with it.
Her tongue lolls out of her mouth but her eyes stay firmly fixed to my face.
Since I have the best fucking luck in the world, it begins to rain. It doesn’t take long for me and the dog to be drenched, but I don’t care. I’m not leaving her.
When my Nissan Titan finally pulls up, I breathe out a sigh of relief.
Thea hops out and shrieks, “Where’s your shirt?” while waving her hands wildly at me.
“I used it for the dog.” I stand with the dog in my arms and head to the backseat of the truck to put her in. Thea gets the door for me and I lay the dog across the seat. Her breathing has grown more labored and a desperate ache has seized my chest. I don’t want anything to happen to her.
When she’s lying down and I don’t feel like she’s just going to roll off onto the floor, I step back. Thea’s standing beside me, her t-shirt and jean shorts soaked through, with her hair plastered to her forehead but she’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. With one look she steals my breath and seals my fate. I’m hers.
I want to take her face between my hands and kiss her beneath the pouring rain.
But we have more pressing matters at hand than me wanting to kiss her.
“I need to get my bike in the back,” I tell her.
Thunder cracks in the distance and she shivers, looking up at the dark and rolling sky.
“Get in the car,” I tell her, but the stubborn woman refuses. I’m not the least bit surprised.
I start for the bike and Thea calls out, “Can you lift that on your own? Do you need help? Xander, please don’t break your spleen.” She winces as I pick up the bike.
“Are spleens even real things?” I ask as I roll my bike to the back of the truck and lift it onto the bed. My muscles scream in protest from the weight of the motorcycle but I refuse to leave it here to be potentially stolen.
“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “I’d have to Google it.” She shivers again as I pick up my jacket from the ground.
“I’ll drive,” I tell her, heading for the driver’s side.
She doesn’t object.
When we’re seated in the car and I’ve pulled back onto the road she says, “I already Googled nearby emergency vet clinics. There’s one about five miles away.”
“Perfect. You tell me the way.”
She gives me directions, and in no time, we’re pulling into the circular drive of the clinic as lightning strikes in the distance.
“You can stay here,” I start to say, but she’s already hopping out of the car.
I get the dog from the back and my stomach gnaws with worry. She doesn’t look good. Her breaths are feathering and barely there and her eyes are only open a slit.
When I get inside, Thea’s already there telling them what’s happened and in moments, a metal gurney is brought out and they instruct me to lay the dog on it.
She’s wheeled away from us like we’re in a real hospital and I watch helplessly, wondering if this is the last time I’m going to see her alive.
I mean, it’s not like she’s my dog, but she’s an innocent creature that’s been hurt and I care about her. I’ve always had a soft spot for animals, especially dogs.
The receptionist asks us a list of questions, ones I can’t really answer since she was a stray.
I catch the words, “—more than likely she’ll be euthanized—” and see red.
“No,” I say over the woman speaking. I know she’s only doing her job, reporting the facts but I don’t want to hear them.
“Excuse me?” She tilts her head up at me from where she sits at the desk.
“I said, no.”
“Sir.” She gives me a sympathetic look. “We’re a vet clinic, not a shelter. We can’t afford the cost of performing surgery on strays—”
“I’ll pay it,” I say, slamming my palms on the counter. “Whatever it is, I’ll pay it.”
She gives me a hesitant look. “It could be several thousand dollars.” Her cheeks flush, and I wonder why she’s blushing but then I realize I’m still shirtless.
“Xander—” Thea touches my arm.
“I don’t care. I can pay it. Do you need proof? Is that it?” I start pulling out my wallet.
“If you’d like to pay for the procedure we need a five-hundred-dollar depos
it, and if it’s more, we settle that at the end, and if it’s less you’ll be reimbursed.” I hand her a card and she appraises me carefully. “I assume this means you’d also like to adopt her?”
I nod. “Yes, I would.”
Our rental house allows pets and I really don’t give a fuck if Rae and Cade agree. Probably the wrong mindset to have since they are my roommates, but there’s no way I’m letting that dog go to someone else.
She nods. “I’ll get the paperwork together for the deposit and adoption.”
Thea looks at me and her lips quirk slightly. “So … a dog?”
“Yeah, a dog.” I run my fingers through my wet hair. “You like dogs, right?” I rack my brain for any memory of Thea not liking them.
“Yeah.” She laughs, gathering her damp hair into a bun on top of her head. “I’m just surprised is all.”
“Surprised? Why?” My brows knit together.
She shrugs her slender shoulders and the edge of her t-shirt slips over one. Before I even think about it I’m reaching out and righting the fabric. A small smile touches her lips at the gesture.
“I don’t know. It seems like you have a lot going on right now.” I tense, momentarily thinking she knows about me being on the team. “What with working for your dad and this whole … marriage thing.” She smiles shyly at me. “Don’t you think adding a dog into the mix might be a bit much?”
I shake my head. “Never.”
She nods once. “I figured you’d say that.” She smiles, and it’s a happy smile, not like she’s tense and worried about this. “So, what are we going to name her?”
Fuck it if my heart doesn’t beat a little faster when she says we. The last week we’ve been doing good—great, even. We’ve been more like our old selves and it’s been nice. I still wish I could kiss her anytime I wanted and … well, there’s a lot of other things I’d like to do to her, but baby steps.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “We’ll figure it out.”
She pushes a wet strand of hair behind her ear and looks up at me through thick dark lashes. “I think we better go home—”
“I’m not leaving her,” I declare.
She laughs lightly. “You didn’t let me finish. I think we should go home and change and then come back. We’re both soaking wet. And um …” She waves a hand at my bare chest and then points over to the waiting area. “I’m pretty sure you’re giving that old lady heart palpitations.”
When Stars Collide (Light in the Dark #2) Page 6
