But no, I had to be strong and not go down there. The dean had made it crystal clear that we were to keep things very private and she’d told Brady that if she or anyone else caught us ‘cavorting’ (her word) inappropriately on campus, she’d have no choice but to fire him and even ban him from campus. It was harsh but it made sense that she couldn’t have people spreading rumors about her faculty. Even if he wasn’t my coach anymore, he had been at one time and he was still staff.
I was halfway through my algebra when Kaylee and Chelly came into my dorm room with Celia and Emmie behind them.
“Field trip!” Chelly announced, her signature grin in place.
I looked from her to Kaylee. “Translation?”
Kaylee smiled. “The guys have a hockey game this afternoon against some other school and they asked us to come watch.”
Hockey? This was new. Not that I suspected the girls were into the sport as much as the excuse to see the guys. Except for maybe Celia who loved all sports. Although, she loved the guys too, so it was probably a double-win for her.
“Watch and cheer,” Chelly said. “Jared will love me in a cheerleading outfit.”
Emmie came around Chelly into the room and gave her a look. “He’s not even on the team.”
“So?”
Celia rolled her eyes. “Can you maybe pretend for one second you might want to watch the actual game?”
“No,” Chelly said. “What do I care about a dumb game when I have my hot guy sitting next to me?”
“Do you seriously have a cheerleading outfit?” Kaylee asked her.
Chelly laughed. “Of course.”
I shook my head. “Does hockey even have cheerleaders?”
“No,” Celia said right as Chelly said, “They do now!”
Emmie smiled and rolled her eyes. “Does it even matter?”
I looked over at Chelly who was still grinning. “Probably not,” I said. “But I can’t go. I need to do homework.”
Chelly dropped heavily onto my bed. “Come with us. Maybe Brady can come, too. You can sit together and try to pretend you’re not totally into each other and are dying to make out, which you will obviously fail at because I’ve seen how he looks at you and...” she trailed off and blew out a loud breath as she fanned her face.
I smirked. She was right. But I really had to do my homework and try to keep my distance from Brady.
“No. I need to stay here.”
“No you don’t. We’re all going.” Chelly pouted.
Emmie came up beside me and closed my book. “You know she’s not going to give up. You may as well give in now.”
I took a breath to gird my loins and be strong against my persuasive friends. I had to focus on my schoolwork and be responsible about things. I looked at my friends and opened my mouth to protest again and then thought about seeing Brady.
Oh hell, who was I kidding? So much for being strong.
~ ♥ ~
“So this is interesting,” I said, my eyes fixed on the ice. The guys from both teams were warming up, skating around in big loops, reminding me of equestrian training and how we often did trotting circles. Celia was beside me, then Kaylee, Emmie on the other side of her and then Chelly (wearing jeans and a Rosewood hoodie after we’d managed to convince her it would be too cold at the arena to wear her cheerleading outfit that she really did own) and Jared beside her at the end of the bench by the aisle.
“What’s interesting? Hockey?” Brady said from my right.
I glanced at him quickly before returning my gaze to the ice. “No. Not hockey. Us. Sitting here like this.”
“Right,” he said, his voice clipped. “Keeping our distance.”
Keeping our distance. Except for his knee pressed against mine, which I knew wasn’t an accident. I knew it because I had moved away a fraction of an inch as a test, but only a second later, his knee had found mine and here we were again, connected in the tiniest way. Every nerve ending in my body seemed to be focused on that tiny spot, maybe the size of a quarter, where our bodies touched.
“Yes,” I said, watching as the two teams responded to a whistle blast, heading to their opposite benches. I figured the game must be about to start.
“So,” he said. “Are you a fan of hockey?”
“Nope. Never seen it before in my life.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his lips turn up into a smirk as his knee pressed against mine a little. It was like we were having a silent conversation that had nothing to do with the words coming out of our mouths. “So you’re here because...”
I shrugged. “Supporting our friends,” I lied. To see you, I said silently with a press of my knee against his.
“Who’s on the team?”
“Declan, though soccer’s more his sport.” Dave was on the team, too, but I didn’t want to bring his name up. “What about you?” I asked. “Do you play any other sports?”
“Not these days,” he said, an edge to his voice.
Nice going, Brooklyn, remind him of his injury. “Sorry,” I said.
“No, I didn’t mean to say it like that,” he said. His knee pressed again; his silent apology. “Soccer, football...I’m a passable hitter in baseball. But never been good on skates.”
“You’re pretty good on a horse,” I said. And at kissing, but we’d better not talk about that sport...
“Thanks,” he said, his voice low as he drew out the word, making me look at him. Could he read my thoughts?
We shared a look that—despite the chill in the arena—heated me up from the inside out. I had to look away to break the tension. “How was practice this morning?” I asked, figuring that had to be a neutral subject.
“It was fine. It’s good to get back to it, though. I’ve been so bored just sitting around and with only part time classes...” He shrugged. “I can only study so much.”
I couldn’t help it and asked: “It didn’t feel weird not having your worst team member there?”
I felt his eyes on me, so I looked at him and pressed my knee to his.
“It felt a bit weird. And you weren’t the worst on the team.”
I gave him a withering look. “Please.”
He blushed a little, which was so freaking sexy I could barely stand it. “Okay, fine, you were the worst on the team,” he said, quickly adding, “You were getting better, but it’s obvious jumping is your strength. I’m sorry we wasted time on dressage when we should have been working on your jumping.”
“I don’t think it was time wasted,” I said, giving him what I hoped was a knowing grin. “Big picture, I mean.”
He smiled, totally getting it. “Want to go get something to eat?” he asked with a nod toward the direction of the concession stand.
“Are you really hungry?” Or do you want to try to find a place where we can be alone, I didn’t say.
“Yes,” he said. He looked down at my lips and I was suddenly sure he was going to kiss me right there in the stands. As much as I wanted it and even caught myself leaning toward him, letting it happen would be a disaster. We weren’t just in public; we were in an arena, surrounded by people. Including the dean of Westwood who was friends with the dean of Rosewood. Kissing was a very bad idea.
“Brady,” I whispered a warning as his eyelids began to close.
But before there was anything to actually put a stop to, a body appeared beside Brady and sat down next to him.
“Hey, Brady,” the guy said and then leaned forward to smile at me. He was tall and lanky with dark hair and chocolate brown eyes. Celia hummed softly in appreciation beside me and I had to agree—this boy was cute. I mean, of course I was totally gone on the boy next to me, but I could still appreciate a good-looking guy when I saw one.
“Clay,” Brady said with a nod before he turned to me.
But before he could introduce me, Clay looked at me and his smile dissolved right before he said the one word that could turn my blood to ice in my veins. “Paige?”
My real name.
/> The Past is Not Always a Present
While all the breath left my lungs and I couldn’t have uttered a word even if I’d known what to say, Brady—a clueless smile still on his face—shook his head. “No, this is the girl I went to London to find.”
Clay’s eyes widened in shock for a second, making we wonder when and how Brady had told him about me and London. Brady was something of a loner and I hadn’t thought he’d told anyone about following me to London. But before I had much time to think about that, Clay blinked but kept his gaze on my face, seeming to assess my features as he processed Brady’s words. “The girl you never found...”
“Hi,” I said, trying to not sound like I was being strangled by panic as I stuck my hand out toward this guy who I now realized was Clayton Henshaw. The guy who had lived next door to me before Dad went deep under cover. The guy I had my first crush on. The guy who knew exactly who I was and where I came from because his parents had been agency people, too.
How was it possible that he was here and no one had warned me? How had I not recognized him? But I knew the answer to the last question was that I hadn’t seen him in several years and we’d both grown up. Although apparently I was still totally recognizable; he’d nailed who I was in one glance.
“Brooklyn,” Brady said when I didn’t fill in my name. “Brooklyn Prescott.”
“Wait a minute. We saw you,” Clayton said, looking from me to Brady. “In London. She walked by the pub and looked in.” he turned back to me. “That was you, wasn’t it?”
Wait a minute; they’d been together in London? How had my past and present collided like this? I had no time to even consider this as they both stared at me, waiting for an answer. I had no choice but to nod, still looking at Clayton, terrified to look at Brady.
Clayton stared at me a few long and very tense moments before he shook his head and took my still-outstretched hand to shake. “Wow. You look just like a girl I used to know. Though she had long brown hair. Just...your eyes...and mouth and even that freckle beside your right eye. But I guess not; it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her. She moved away.”
I waved him off, suddenly wishing my hair was a lot longer so I could bring it forward over that damning freckle. “How could you remember a freckle on a girl you haven’t seen in years?” I said casually, trying to throw him off.
It was meant as a rhetorical question, but he had an answer. “Oh I had such a crush on her back then. I was sure I’d memorized her whole face.”
I had nothing to say to that. Not with Brady and a whole crap-ton of lies between us. Plus, now the admission that my old crush had had a crush on me? Like I needed that information right now? Had they talked about me while they were together in London? Clayton talking about an old crush while Brady talked about his new one, the girl he’d chased halfway around the world, not realizing they were both talking about the same girl?
Ha ha, Universe! Where’s one of those black holes when you need one?
Of course, Clayton wasn’t done with me. “Are you sure your name isn’t Paige Carrington and you didn’t used to live in Denver?” he was smiling like it was a joke. But there was nothing funny. Nothing at all.
Crap.
“You’d have liked her, Brady,” Clayton went on, despite my silent prayers for him to stop talking. “She used to ride horses, too. She seemed to always be coming or going from her riding lessons.”
Brady looked between us, his smile faltering a little. He knew I was from Denver. He knew I used to take riding lessons. And the freckle, well, he was looking right at it.
“Ha ha,” I said, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. But for the life of me, I couldn’t seem to get my brain and mouth on board to deny who I was. But I had to say something. “All girls love horses,” I managed lamely.
Celia must have clued in then and made a valiant effort to save me. She didn’t know my real name (until right then, of course) but she knew I was using an alias and had kept my entire backstory from Brady. “Hey Brooklyn, want to go get some popcorn?”
“Yeah,” I said, grateful for her lifeline.
I started to stand up, but Brady grabbed my wrist. Not hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough to keep me in place. “Wait a second.”
I swallowed and looked at him, sure he could see my heart pounding in my chest even under the thick sweatshirt. I tried to make my face innocent or at least blank, but knew I was failing terribly. My cheeks felt flushed and there was no way they didn’t look it.
He was frowning. “That was you in London. So where were you? I thought my mother had the wrong address but...why did she have the wrong address? Why couldn’t I find you?”
“I...I can’t...”
As I stumbled, trying to figure out what to say, I could see on Brady’s face how everything seemed to slide into place. He looked at Clayton who had now lost his smile too, before looking back at me.
“What’s going on? Who are you?” he said, his voice so low it was almost a growl. It wasn’t lost on me that it was the same question his mother had asked.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Instead the sounds around us erupted as the hockey game began. Boys yelling, sticks on ice, the echoing shouts of people in the stands.
My heart thudded so hard and I began to feel dizzy as I stared at him, speechless, like maybe I’d pass out from nerves or stress or maybe I was having a stress-induced heart attack. All I knew was that I needed to get out of there before I fainted or worse. I pulled my arm from his grasp as I stood up.
“Wait,” he said, his fingers closing around my wrist again.
I shook him off and turned away. “Let me out,” I blurted as I pushed past my friends to the aisle. I worried that Brady was going to catch up with me but thankfully Jared stood up as I squeezed by. “You okay?” he said and as I shook my head and rushed past him, I heard him say, “Let her go, Fleming.”
Brady was no small guy, but Jared was a lot bigger and I glanced over my shoulder to see him standing in Brady’s way. I exhaled, allowing myself that tiny bit of relief as I bolted down the stairs to get to the bathroom I’d passed by on the way in. Not that I wanted to run away from Brady, but I needed a few minutes to collect myself and figure out what to do without both Brady’s and Clayton’s eyes on me waiting for the truth. Because there was no way around it: I was going to have to tell more lies. I just had to figure out which ones and to whom.
~ ♥ ~
Celia and Emmie found me in the bathroom a few minutes later. I was already in a stall, wiping my face with a handful of shredded toilet paper.
“In here,” I said when they called out what they now knew was my fake name. Well, it wasn’t technically a completely fake name. Brooklyn is my real middle name and the one I was used to, but now they knew my real first name, and—if they were listening—my real last name, also. Dad was going to lose his mind if he found out.
I unlatched the lock on the door and was going to let them into the stall, but realized that would be a tight fit, so I came out into the otherwise (thankfully) empty bathroom and headed past them and over to the mirror to try to salvage my makeup. Good luck with that.
“What’s going on?” Emmie asked from behind me. “What happened out there?”
I looked at her concerned face in the mirror as I wiped the toilet paper under my eyes to try to clean off the smudged mascara. “That guy? Brady’s new friend?” I asked, seeing her and Celia nod before I continued. “I knew him when I was a kid. He recognized me.”
It was weirdly satisfying to see both of their eyes go wide as they realized what that meant.
“Oh,” Celia said.
“Just come clean to Brady,” Emmie said with a dismissive wave, like it was no big deal. “Tell him the truth and he’ll understand. You were going to anyway, weren’t you?”
I sighed. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I guess I probably was, but my dad said I wasn’t allowed to. He said it was too risky.”
“Really?” Celia asked. “Are you
still in danger?”
“Probably not,” I said with a shrug, trying to play it down even though I really didn’t know. “He’s paranoid but I guess there’s always a chance...” I shivered as I thought about the threat I’d gotten on my cellphone at Thanksgiving. They’d found me when I’d been undercover, who knew what could happen now if it got out where I was.
Emmie screwed up her face. “You should still be able to tell the truth to the guy you’re dating, though.”
“That’s what I said. But he’s still being really careful. Plus, I don’t want to put anyone at risk after that threat back at Thanksgiving.”
“But your dad got that new job,” Celia said. “Isn’t that why?”
“Yeah,” I said. “But you never know. If someone ever hacked into old files, his name is still on old projects.”
She nodded.
“Well, I still say you need to tell him, anyway,” Emmie said. “At least to explain why you lied all this time. I’m sure if you explain your dad’s situation, he’ll be cool.”
I turned and looked at her straight on. “You’re probably right. He’s a reasonable guy.”
“Maybe you can get your dad to do a background check on Brady so he knows he can be trusted,” Celia suggested.
Why hadn’t I thought of that? “That’s a great idea. Thank you.”
Celia nodded and her cheeks got a little pink like she was shy about it. “What are the chances, though,” she said. “I mean of that other guy being here and knowing you. Didn’t you recognize him?”
“Not at first,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s been a few years...”
“Puberty was good to him,” Emmie said with an eyebrow waggle.
I laughed at that. “Yeah. But Celia’s right. What are the chances? And how were they in London together? I’ve never heard Brady mention any friends. This is so messed up.”
Emmie pulled me into a side-hug. “You’ll fix it. Just go out there and explain it to Brady. He’ll forgive you for sure. He just didn’t like being blindsided.”
Hitting the Target Page 12
