None of those rang true.
“Wait. Do I know you?” she blurted with a frown, breaking all of the rules she so carefully followed all of the time and probably sounding just like all his other admirers he had interacted with all day.
He shook his head and glanced at the counter between them. “No,” he answered quickly, and then, “What size for the shirt?”
“Uh, large,” Hannah answered, not being able to shake the feeling she had definitely seen him somewhere. Especially since she had been cataloging everyone in her life in a just-on-this-side-of-obsessive way since she’d moved to Chicago.
For survival reasons.
He placed the hideous blue and gold purchase on the counter and eyed the horrible graphic on the front.
“It does look like a badger,” he muttered with a chuckle.
His eyes connected with hers and they shared a moment.
It was just a laugh, a joke, a shared breath.
But it wasn’t part of her routine.
Something warm stole through Hannah’s insides and startled her.
It had been so long since she’d shared a connection of any kind with a human outside of the twelve-year-old she adored.
Pushing aside the panic that threatened to barge into this moment, she handed over the twenty she’d removed from her billfold.
His hand closed around hers unexpectedly and she froze.
His hand was warm. That was her first and only thought.
Which made her feel like a total moron because obviously a living, breathing person would be warm.
But the sensation rippled across her skin and made her feel it.
“Sorry ’bout that,” he muttered, slipping the bill free of her hand.
Hannah took a slow breath and swallowed.
Remember that time when you were so numb that you couldn’t register being touched at all?
Yeah. Apparently, she had swung the complete other way on the pendulum if a touch of the hand had caused all of her nerve endings to sing at once.
Hannah grabbed the shirt off the counter and hurried out of the line.
Whatever.
Shake it off, girl.
She headed to the bathroom to change.
School bathrooms all had the same smell. Chlorine, rust, and the faintest echo of fruity body spray.
Hannah avoided the mirrors and steered to a stall; she didn’t bother locking it. She quickly unbuttoned her flannel, tossed it over the top of the stall door along with Piper’s coat that she was still lugging around, and slipped her new shirt on. It hung just at her hips—not too loose and not snug. A general fit as far as shirts went. She tagged the flannel and left the stall.
And paused.
There she was.
In the mirror above the sink.
Seeing her reflection had not gotten any easier. No matter how many therapy sessions she went to, or what kind of meds she was on, seeing her face in a mirror was still difficult.
She’d spent a great deal of her life perfecting that reflection. Every inch of it had been examined, measured, and improved to the point it had become her biggest sense of pride. Even more so than her singing career or musical talent.
The image was all that mattered.
She’d made herself into her own idol.
Just another false god.
She tied the arms of the flannel around her hips and took a deep breath.
Sometimes, if she slowed down for a minute, she’d catch a glimpse of herself. A spark, like the flash of a camera or a striking match. The sudden recognition was startling…and it filled her with a hope she didn’t recognize and was unable to hold onto.
And then it would fade and she’d be back to looking at this. This new creature that looked half alive and felt the same.
Cheers from the court echoed into the bathroom and she blinked away her thoughts.
Piper.
She had Piper.
Piper was good and clean, and despite everything Hannah had done, Piper loved her.
That was all that mattered.
Hannah would do whatever it took to deserve that love.
She grabbed Piper’s coat and left the bathroom.
Ugh.
That’s right.
She hadn’t picked a spot to sit yet.
By now the game had started and the bleachers were completely packed. Did public schools have this kind of turnout?
Her attention was drawn to someone waving at her.
Recognizing Sarahi from earlier, she wasn’t sure she was the one being waved to. Hannah glanced behind her to check. No, she was the only one nearby. Still, she pointed at herself with a frown. Sarahi exaggerated an eye roll and then nodded emphatically, waving her over again.
Um. Okay.
Hannah made her way that direction. When she was close enough, Sarahi stood up and moved over, leaving exactly enough space for Hannah. Right behind the bench.
Hannah climbed the stairs and stepped around the other spectators, who either glared at her or ignored her.
She finally reached Sarahi and sat down.
“Was this what you wanted? Because I’m not going back,” Hannah stated, but she was lying. If Sarahi wanted her to leave, she would do so.
Sarahi giggled wickedly and Hannah couldn’t help but smile.
“I wanted to sit by you,” Sarahi said. As if that explained anything.
“Mine is number 5, Ana.” Sarahi pointed to the girl at the free-throw line.
“I’m with number 3, Piper.”
Sarahi eyed her closely. “You two look very much alike. Is she your daughter?”
“No, she’s my little sister.” Hannah caught Piper’s eye and smiled when the girl waved at her.
Saying it out loud filled her with a rush of emotion.
She had a sister.
She’d never forget the day she found out.
It had seemed as if everything in her recent life had prepared her for that moment. If she would’ve found out about Piper even just a few months sooner, they wouldn’t be where they were now.
And what they were now was more than Hannah had ever had.
At that moment, a girl from the other team aggressively bumped into Piper with her shoulder, causing Piper to stumble.
Piper’s head whipped around and Hannah stood up, heat filling her face.
Sarahi gripped her arm and tugged her back to her seat.
The girl said something to Piper. Hannah couldn’t hear it, but she recognized the lip twist. Hannah’s pulse picked up.
Piper took a step toward the other girl. The ref blew a whistle.
But all Hannah could hear was the blood pounding in her ears.
Ana hooked an elbow around Piper’s neck and took on a casual posture. She said something in the direction of the opponent and then laughed. Piper smiled and her shoulders relaxed. Ana tugged her teammate back to their bench.
“See?” Sarahi remarked. “Someone has her back.”
Hannah swallowed, her anger slowly dissipating.
It helped to know she had a teammate who would be there, but that’s not what Hannah was worried about.
The look on the other girl’s face, the aggressive way she had behaved. It was all too familiar. Hannah used to be a girl just like that.
JOHNNY
The initial rush slowed down and he finally had a moment to breathe.
But it was a hard breath to take.
Immediately his eyes went to her.
Across the gym floor and just behind the home team, she sat wearing her new shirt that she’d purchased from him.
Sarahi had sat down right beside her.
Of all the school gymnasiums in all the world…
“I told you,” Shawn singsonged at his shoulder.
The teenager had been skipping around him in the small gym kitchen area for the better part of an hour. It had taken a lot of strong-arming to keep him sequestered to their zone and not go over there and fanboy all over the place.
But he wasn’t wrong.
At least, it didn’t appear he’d been wrong.
Johnny had kept one eye on Ashton James all day.
Or the woman who looked like Ashton.
As far as he knew, she didn’t have a twin or a look-alike. Not that that would be too far from the realm of possibility. Entertainers often employed look-alikes for various reasons, usually having to do with privacy.
But that electric blue color of her eyes was something he’d never seen in another human being.
“This is the perfect opportunity. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna give it to her.”
Johnny blinked rapidly, trying to catch up with what Shawn was saying as he untied his apron.
“No,” he said firmly. “No. Absolutely not.”
Shawn’s incredulous expression reminded him so much of when he was little that Johnny almost smiled.
“Why not?”
“It’s not…appropriate,” Johnny finished with a tight whisper. He grabbed Shawn by the elbow and steered him toward the back of the kitchen.
Shawn’s mouth hung open and his brow furrowed. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am serious,” Johnny reiterated. “First of all, we have no way of knowing if that’s her. Not without making everyone very uncomfortable.”
Shawn’s expression turned that special brand of teenage bored and fed up. “You mean, it’ll make you uncomfortable.” He narrowed his eyes at Johnny. “When are you gonna get over that? It was years ago.”
“Second,” Johnny continued, ignoring Shawn’s question. “This isn’t the place for that. You’re so close to graduation. Can we please avoid any more trips to the principal’s office?”
Johnny glanced back at the Ashton James look-alike.
It was uncanny.
But there was so much about her that didn’t add up.
For one, she was laughing.
Admittedly, Sarahi was hilarious and it would take a special kind of demon to not be amused by the woman.
But Ashton James only laughed at people she was stepping on.
And then there was absolutely everything about her.
She was dressed in black jeans, the tee she’d bought earlier, way too large for her frame, a black and gray flannel tied at her hips. Her dark hair was tied in a tight ponytail, she had on her ugly glasses, and she was free of all makeup.
Ashton James didn’t go anywhere barefaced and without an entourage.
And she didn’t wear glasses because she had perfect vision. One little fact he remembered about her.
But this person, the one sitting on the bleachers and cheering for the girls’ basketball team, laughing at his cousin’s jokes, smiling, hugging a younger version of herself—this was someone he did not know.
It had to be a trick of the light.
Or of the fates.
Some sort of karmic indulgence designed to mess with his head.
“Fine. But if I see her again outside of the school, I’m doing it,” Shawn declared belligerently, yanking his arm forcefully from Johnny’s soft grip.
“Fine,” Johnny muttered, not really listening.
It couldn’t really be her, could it?
It didn’t make any sense. Or did it make all the sense?
Why would she be in Chicago? Maybe she was filming a reality show? Real Homewreckers of the Midwest?
Yikes, Johnny, that was petty.
He needed some fresh air.
“I’m taking out the trash,” he announced loudly, seizing the not-quite-full bag and cinching it closed.
HANNAH
“Sorry,” Piper muttered, averting her gaze and slinging her bag over her shoulder.
“For what?” Hannah snorted. “That was the perfect amount of time for me to finish my book.”
She handed Piper her coat.
Piper tried a half smile at Hannah’s levity. “Was this one of your sexy books?” she teased.
“It was a romance, yes,” Hannah answered. “And it happened to be on the sexy side. I feel no shame in that.” She jutted her chin into the air and Piper laughed.
They left the empty building together and crossed the empty parking lot.
Piper didn’t like to shower with the other girls, but she also didn’t like to get in the car without having showered. Some (okay, a lot) of that was because of Life Before.
Survival instincts that she didn’t need anymore but still hung around like psychological poltergeists. Hannah never pushed her to drop them. Her goal was to slowly build a life for them both that did not need those instincts to stick around.
A life of security and love.
All that meant was that they were usually the last to leave the games.
She also hadn’t minded waiting because she needed just a few minutes to herself to think about how she wanted to talk to Piper about what had happened during the game. She knew she needed to address it, but she wasn’t sure how without losing her absolute shit.
Hannah clicked the unlock button on the key fob.
They got in, buckled their seat belts, and listened as the engine didn’t start.
Piper glanced at Hannah. Hannah blinked and turned the key again. The ignition clicked and then nothing.
Well.
That wasn’t good.
“What’s wrong?” Piper asked.
“I think…” Hannah tried the ignition again. “The battery is dead?”
Her mind raced with all the possibilities. She wasn’t a mechanic by any means. But she’d been around vehicles a large portion of her life and picked up a few things here and there.
The battery in her Toyota was original to the vehicle. They’d never had an issue before, but she also didn’t drive it that much. She usually took the train when she could.
She pulled the lever for the hood release and unbuckled her seat. Her eye caught on the console under the main display.
“Piper?” she asked slowly. “Were you charging your laptop in here?”
Piper’s eyes darted to the car charger still plugged in and followed the cord to the underside of the seat where she pulled out her laptop.
She looked up at Hannah, cheeks pink and eyes sheepish. “Yeah?”
Hannah rolled her lips inward to keep from smiling, and when she succeeded at that, she sighed. “The battery is dead.”
Piper shivered as the cold from outside began to permeate their warm coats.
“I can call for a jump,” Hannah said, wrestling her phone from her coat pocket. Hopefully they would be able to get there before they got too cold. Hannah didn’t care about herself, but thinking of Piper waiting in the subzero temperatures made her uneasy.
Maybe the school was still open. She squinted at the gymnasium doors, getting ready to send Piper running over to check.
The doors swung open and a man emerged, a brown aviation-style coat zipped up to his chin, the collar pulled up around his ears. He plunged his hands in his pockets and strode toward the one vehicle left in the parking lot.
Excelsior!
“Wait here,” Hannah instructed as she quickly opened the door. She slammed it behind her before Piper could respond and sprinted across the parking lot.
“Hey!” she called out, hoping she didn’t look threatening. Or crazy. And hoping this guy was of the good Midwest variety of helping his neighbors and strangers in distress.
He opened the door to his silver Camaro before he turned her way. His body stiffened and he gripped the top of the door frame with one hand. Probably trying to decide if he should flee or not.
Her sprint brought her to him just as she recognized him as being the handsome man from the concession stand who had sold her the T-shirt.
He recognized her in the same moment and his curiosity was replaced with suspicion.
Crap.
He probably thought she was going to come onto him.
“Hey,” she breathed. “Can you jump me? I mean, can you give me a jump? My car died and I can call for a service, but it’s cold and Piper
is in the car and I don’t know how long it’ll take. And I know I’m overexplaining, but I don’t want you to think I have ulterior motives. I didn’t even know it was you until I got all the way over here. I swear, I just need some of that sweet, sweet electricity from your car battery.”
He narrowed his eyes at her as she spit out her needless sentences. When she stopped, he leaned to look around her. “The Toyota?” he asked.
She nodded.
He tugged his beanie, which she noted was painfully threadbare, a little further down over his ears. “Just let me get my cables.”
“Thank you!” Her exclamation came out a little more forceful than she intended and his dark eyebrows dipped into an equally dark frown. But she didn’t care. He was awesome and a hero and now Piper wouldn’t be cold for much longer.
She spun around and jogged back to the car.
“Is he going to help us?” Piper asked, watching through the windshield, her words coming out in little white puffs of frost.
“Yes,” Hannah declared, rubbing her mittened hands together. “He also sold me my new shirt today. He’s a very helpful person.”
The Camaro pulled up facing the Toyota and the man got out. Piper inhaled sharply.
“That’s Ana’s uncle.”
Hannah filtered through the events of that morning. Things made more sense with the rest of the information.
“Ana…was I sitting by her mom?”
“Yeah.”
It wasn’t until that moment that Hannah realized that sitting and talking with Sarahi today had made her feel like she was actually part of a community. Instead of just another outsider.
It was nice.
Piper nodded and her eyes widened when the man approached Hannah’s side of the car.
“He’s so pretty,” Piper whispered.
Hannah snorted and got out of the car. But she wasn’t wrong.
“Does your daughter want to sit in my car while we wait for yours to start?” he offered. “It warms up quick and I have heated seats.”
Hannah’s heart melted just a little bit for two reasons. It was the first time she’d been mistaken for Piper’s mom. And it didn’t suck. Not at all.
Also, putting Piper’s safety and comfort first, even when he was clearly uncomfortable with this strange woman asking for help? Yeah, that was hero stuff too.
Key Change: A Slow Burn Rockstar Romance (Common Threads Book 3) Page 4
