Chapter 9
9
S helby
Reid’s offer is the first thing on my mind when I wake up the next morning. I slept well, good even, despite my bed being an old couch.
I want to do it. Live my best life for the next few weeks. Explore freedom and the opportunities I know I won’t have when I go back home. But I also know there’s one thing I need to do before I take this step.
I call David.
The phone rings as I sit up, getting the full effect of how cold the porch is and pull the blanket to my chest.
“Shelby,” he says in greeting. “Finally.”
“Hi, David.” There’s a long pause and it’s clear he’s waiting for me to speak first. Okay. “How are you?”
“How am I?” He laughs. “I’m… well, I’m the way a guy is when their fiancée takes off without telling anyone, that’s how I am.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, then instantly regret it. This is why I haven’t called him. I don’t want to apologize. I’m not sad about what I’m doing. I take a breath and add, “I’m sorry if I scared or hurt you. This was just something I needed to do.”
“That’s what I don’t understand. Why do you need to do this?” His voice is tight. “Do you not want to get married?”
“No, it’s not that.” I pick at the seam on the blanket, a smooth line running across the side. “I’m not sure,” I admit. “I haven’t been sleeping well, and all of the planning just felt like it was getting out of hand. The parties, the wedding date, the wedding clothes…” I take a breath. “The house.”
“About the house. I told your father that we wanted to make some changes.”
“You did?” I rise up, surprised.
“I did. And he had no problem when I explained to him that I needed a larger office so that I have the ability to work from home a few days a week,” he says. “But don’t worry, I thought of you too. I asked for a door to be added for a nursery with an adjoining door to our bedroom. So you can be close to the babies all night.”
Babies? That familiar hot, itchy feeling spreads across my chest and I struggle to take a breath. “Wait!” I manage to get out. “Did you say you changed the plans to include an adjoining nursery?”
“Yeah,” he says, voice full of pride. “To make it easier for you.”
I stand, dropping the blanket, letting the cool porch air hit my overheated skin. “This isn’t what I want.”
He sighs. “What now?”
“You called me your fiancée, David.” Anger licks at my spine. “We’re not engaged.”
“Close enough.”
“No. It’s just another step forward that I wasn’t included in.”
“Are you serious with this?” he asks. “You’re really going to act like the victim here of some organized plan by me and our families to exclude you?”
I realize that I am serious. I think about how Reid looked when I spoke to him the night before. He didn’t judge me. He just listened.
“Yeah,” I reply, feeling emboldened. “I’m not saying it’s not something I don’t want some day, but not like this. Not with you and my parents making all of the decisions while I sit by quietly with no input.”
“Do you not want the nursery? Because we–”
I laugh. I actually laugh. The bubble of hysteria rising out of that tight mass in my chest.
“This isn’t about a nursery, and until you figure that out, I’m going to need some space. Real space.” I swallow. “I want to go on a break.”
With a twinge of underlying fear, he asks, “What does that mean?”
“That means that until I come back home, we’re not together. I need to think about myself for once and what I want, because to be fair, it’s been so long since anyone asked me that I’m not sure I could even describe it if I was asked.”
“Fine,” he says, the petulance vibrating through the phone. “If that’s what you need, take it. I’ll be here when you get back.”
“Thank you.”
“Whatever you need, Shel. I just want the best for both of us.”
“Me too.”
I hang up without saying anything else. Pacing around the small area I say aloud, “I can’t believe I just did that.”
There’s not much time to dwell on it, because I can hear the guys coming down the stairs and entering the kitchen. Axel. I told him we’d talk. I pull a sweater over my pajamas and run my fingers over my hair, yanking at the tangles.
Stepping into the living room I take in all four guys, each holding a bowl and spoon, look over at me. Well, everyone but Reid, who seems focused on pouring Frosted Oats in his bowl. None of them seem aware that my world just came crashing down.
“Hey,” Axel says, through a mouthful of cereal. “I was about to wake you up. Go change. We’re about to head to campus. I figured we could go to the coffee shop and talk.”
“He’s addicted to their bacon and egg biscuits,” Jefferson says, tipping back his bowl and drinking the milk in a move that should be juvenile and unattractive but it’s not possible with that face. It’s a shame those cheekbones are wasted on a boy.
“This isn’t breakfast?” I ask, receiving nothing but four confused stares back.
“Nope. This is just a pre-breakfast snack.” Axel sets his bowl down and walks over. “I’ve got a free period this morning, and I figured you may want a little tour of campus.” He nudges me and says with an overexaggerated Texan drawl, “And try the best bacon and egg biscuits north of the Mason-Dixon line.”
All I feel like doing is crawling back in bed, finding my phone, and calling David to take it all back, but over my brother’s shoulder, Reid’s gaze meets mine, eyebrow lifted in a challenge.
Right.
I wanted something new, some adventure, and although I’m pretty sure coffee with my brother doesn’t count, I can genuinely say it’s something I’ve never done before.
“Holy cow.” I cover my mouth while chewing the steaming bite of buttery goodness. “That’s amazing”
“Almost as good as Mom’s, right?”
“Never,” I narrow my eyes, “ ever, tell her that. She’d cry worse than when you decided to move two thousand miles away.” I take another bite. “But yes.”
I’d given him a story on the way over about how, for a minute, I got cold feet and was planning on going back home, but that after sleeping on it, I’d calmed down. For some reason, I don’t tell him about David. Probably because he’d pull out the champagne to celebrate and that’s not exactly how I feel.
“So why’d you do the one-eighty?” He crushes the wrapper of his first biscuit into a ball and reaches for the second.
I’m just thankful my brother is focused on his food and not the heat I feel creeping up my neck. He can’t know about Reid’s encouragement or he’ll pack my bags himself and drive me directly to the airport.
“I admit that I was overwhelmed, and look, I really like Nadia, but–”
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me. Taking you to the Badger Den first off was a terrible idea. That was way out of your comfort zone.” I want to argue that and tell him I was fine, but we both know it’s a lie. I almost ran away, again. “Nadia is a piece of work.” He stares dreamily at the biscuit, the piercing in his eyebrow glinting in the overhead light. I’m pretty sure the glassy eyed gaze is about his girlfriend. “Fuck, I love her.”
Seeing my brother like this is surreal. He’s always been so wild, rushing from one high to the next. One girl to the next. I never thought I’d see him fall so hard. It makes me question what I have with David even more, because that stupid look on my brother’s face? I’ve never once seen David look at me like that. “You really do, don’t you?”
“She’s the fucking best.” He shoves the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, chewing slowly before he speaks again. “But look, Nadia hasn’t had it easy. She acts all tough on the outside, and she is a badass, but she’s been through a lot this past year.” He licks his thumb. “You can talk to her, is all I’m saying. Twyler, too. She’s cool.”
Sure, both girls are nice, and with the comment about not being able to talk about things for legal reasons, I definitely get the vibe Nadia has been through something complicated, but have either of them called off an engagement? Have they threatened to throw everything away and disappoint their family? I don’t know, but there’s someone that has come close, but I don’t think Axel is including Reid in approved friends.
After piling up his trash, he checks the time. “I’ve gotta head to class. Do you need directions back to the house?”
“No, I’ve got the address in my phone, but I think I’ll stay here for a little bit. It’s nice.”
And warm. It’s so freaking cold outside. Just the thought of venturing out again makes me want to cry.
Axel pulls on his extremely warm looking hockey jacket. “You’ve got my number. And Nadia’s and Twy’s. You can call Reese too if you need him.”
“I’ll be fine. Go learn something smart.” I shoo him off and he exits, leaving with a cold gust of air coming in through the open door.
First order of business? Warmer clothes.
I’m googling the nearest clothing store when a shadow falls over the table. I look up and my heart jolts. “Oh!” I gasp, looking up at Reid, “you startled me.”
“In the zone?” he asks, setting a full cup of coffee on the table. He’s so tall, big, his shoulders filling out the team jacket that matches my brothers. There’s a number 8 patch on the arm, and the name ‘Wilder’ is stitched over the badger logo on his chest. I’m jealous for a moment, this camaraderie of belonging. I’ve never had that before. He pulls the black beanie off his head and runs his hand through his dark hair, leaving it in loose waves.
I don’t know why I’m noticing these things about him, or why my skin heats every time I look at him. Probably because the first time I met him, I climbed in his lap like a maniac and kissed him.
“I guess you could call it that.” I flash him the screen. “I need to get some clothes. I’m woefully underprepared for this weather and some of us aren’t comfortable freezing our arms and legs off.”
“I won’t apologize for running hot,” he says with a quirk of his lip, “or for being hot.” Without asking permission he sits across from me. “Where are you looking?”
“I don’t know. It looks like there’s a shop on campus.” I glance up. “Do they have clothes?”
“They do, but it’s Wittmore centric, fan stuff mostly. Although they do have sweatshirts and hats.”
“I really think I need a heavier coat and a few sweaters.” I stick out my foot, revealing the ballet flat. “And shoes. My toes are freezing.”
He grabs my foot and pulls it into his lap. The move knocks me off kilter, and I swiftly shove my skirt under my thighs to avoid exposing myself further. Then he runs a warm thumb over the top of my foot and I freeze. “What are you doing?” I whisper, way too aware of the rough skin of his thumb touching me.
“Just helping out.”
“We’re in a coffee shop.” I pull my leg back, but he holds tight. “People can see.”
His eyebrow cocks. “You don’t know a single person in here but me. Why do you care?”
“Because it’s not appropriate.” I wiggle my foot away, and this time he releases me. My foot feels like it’s on fire. “And I may not know anyone in here, but I get the feeling everyone else knows exactly who you are.”
I noticed it the second he sat down. Every eye in the room followed his movements. Especially the table of girls, talking quietly in the corner.
“You really are a good girl, aren’t you?” he asks.
“What if I am?”
He leans back in his chair and assesses me. “You know, if I were your brother you’d have a nickname by now.”
Axel is notorious for shortening everyone’s names, including my own. In a low voice I beg, “Please don’t start calling me Shellybean.”
Reid laughs. “Noted.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s a shop a few miles off campus that should work.” His eyebrow lifts. “You want a ride? I’ve got time before my next class.”
“In your car?”
“Yes, in my car. Well, truck.” He frowns. “Were you expecting a bicycle or something?”
“No.” What I wasn’t expecting was to be so flustered. “But yes, that would be really helpful.”
While I put on my coat, he grabs my trash and tosses it in the bin. “I’m in the lot,” he says, turning down a pathway that leads away from the campus. “I had to run an errand between classes anyway.”
His truck is older and a little beat up, with small patches of rust along the tailgate. He opens the door for me. “I’m from Texas and know my way around a truck, but you need some running boards.”
“Sorry about that,” he says, offering me his hand. My skirt goes to my knees and I have to hike it up to take the step in. I’m halfway up when I feel his hand on my hip and a crackle of heat zaps up my spine. I’m leveraged onto the bench seat and I quickly shift over. “You good?”
“Great.” I say, flashing a quick grin.
He slams the door shut and walks around to the other side of the truck, while I buckle up. The cab is cold, but has a warm spicy scent that reminds me of Reid. I shove my hands into my pockets as the engine rumbles to life. He fusses with the knobs, and a blast of heat spills into the small space.
“So how’d you end up with a truck like this?” I ask.
“I bought her.” he says, placing his hands on the big steering wheel. “It was all I could afford with my part time job.”
“Her?”
“Lurlene.” At my raised eyebrow he adds, “My grandmother’s name.”
“That’s sweet.” And a little adorable, I think as he eases the truck out of the lot. “What kind of job?”
“Coaching hockey at the local rink.”
“Ah, of course. Hockey.” I rub my hands over my knees. “Well, I’m impressed. I can’t imagine earning enough money to buy something like a car.”
“No?”
“I’ve never even had a job,” I admit, feeling a little embarrassed by it. “At least not a paid one. My father always wanted me available to volunteer at Kingdom.”
He nods, and I stare at the hard line of his profile, the sharpness of his jaw. “Axel’s mentioned how he wanted you both to follow in his footsteps.”
“Well, he wanted Axel to follow. I’m more of a supporting role.”
“To David.” He glances over and I avert my eyes, suddenly feeling hot and distracted by his overwhelming scent in the boxy cab.
“Yeah.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him about breaking up with him, but it also still doesn’t seem real. Or maybe I don’t want it to be real? What if I made a mistake?
I focus on the view outside the window, and not my crumbling life, and the streets turning more commercial until I see a strip of shops up ahead.
He parks on the street, but even after Reid turns off the engine, I can’t bring myself to open the door. “You ready?” he prompts.
“Just bracing myself for the arctic blast.”
He rolls his eyes, but says, “Here.”
I watch as he shrugs out of his jacket. “What? No. It’s fine. I have this coat.”
“Yeah, well, it’s obviously not enough and I’ve got on layers.” He’s wearing a sweater with a shirt underneath and the beanie covering his head. “I’ll be fine.”
He holds it out in the small space between us, the expression on his face unwavering. I take it and say, “Thank you.”
He exits the driver’s side and I pull on the oversized jacket, engulfed not just in his lingering body heat but more of that intoxicating scent. I’ve got my nose pressed against the collar when he opens my door.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him, dropping the collar quickly. “I can get down easier than up.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not taking any chances.” I slip my hand into his larger one, and he pulls me to the edge of the seat. I don’t miss the way his eyes skim over my legs. “You’ve really got to get some pants,” he mumbles as he helps me to the ground.
‘“I know. It’s top of the list.” I shift under the heavy weight of the jacket. “After a new coat.”
We’ve just started walking down the sidewalk when someone calls out, “Good game, Wilder,” followed by another, “Can’t wait to see you in the playoffs.” Soon a small crowd has gathered to grab handshakes or even ask for a selfie.
“Is that your girlfriend?” one fan asks, looking over to where I’m standing a few feet away.
“Just a friend,” Reid replies, looking back at me and giving me a wink. He takes the phone into his hand to get a better angle for the camera.
“Thanks man,” the guy says, grinning at the image on his camera.
“Anytime.” They bump fists. “Thanks for the support.”
I turn to him. “Does everyone know who you are?”
“I know you’re from the land of football, but yeah, most people know who we are. Hockey is big up here, especially when we’re winning.” He smirks. “And if you’re uncomfortable with the attention, I suggest you keep your distance from Reese and Axel in public. Those two are the real celebrities.”
He sounds modest but there’s a cocky swagger to his stride as he leads us to a small boutique. “You don’t have to come in with me,” I say, just outside the door. “I’ll hurry.”
“Nope. Not a chance.”
“What do you mean?” A gust of air stings my nose.
“Remember how I told you I’d help you start living a little? Well, this is it. New clothes is step one.” He grabs the door handle and pulls it open. “And I just happen to have excellent taste.”
He gestures for me to walk in first. I duck under his arm and enter the warm, cozy shop. It’s filled with different styles. There are racks of vintage coats, a wall of well-worn jeans, and cubbies filled with T-shirts.
“I just need a few warmer things, Reid, not a whole makeover. This isn’t a teen drama.”
I point to a coat that looks like the afghan throw on my grandmother’s couch. “And there’s no way I’m wearing something like that.”
“I want you to feel yourself, find what you like. There’s a dozen different styles in here rather than the cookie cutter stuff at the mall, or,” his eyes sweep over me, “wherever it is you got these boring clothes.”
“They’re not boring,” I snap, but I know it’s not true. My mother picked them out, lined up to my father’s specifications. I look down at my knee length skirt and sensible shoes. They’re modest. Neutral. Appropriate . I sigh. “Fine. They’re boring.”
“For the next three weeks you’re living the life of a college student. You should dress like one.” He looks up at me and winks. “Only better.”
I follow him through the store as he picks through racks and piles items in my arms. Occasionally he’ll ask me a question, about color or size, but apparently I’m in his hands.
“Okay,” he says, carrying everything back to the dressing room. “Try those on.”
I stare at clothes. It’s a hodge-podge of everything, including velvet and leather. “All of them?”
“Yep.”
Who does this guy think he is? “What are you going to do?”
He nods at a purple chaise lounge, “I’ll wait here and you can model them for me.”
I blink, but he seems completely confident in this plan, and as he settles on the chair, crossing his boot clad feet at the ankles, I give up and head into the dressing room. I quickly undress, kicking off the skirt and unbuttoning my blouse. My white bra and panties reflect back at me in the mirror and I consider that if Reid saw these he’d be horrified at the plainness. I bet Darla or any other girl he’s been with would wear something sexy and provocative.
Quickly, I change into the first outfit. The sweater is robin's-egg blue, ridiculously soft and oversized, with a wide neck that creeps over my shoulder while the pants are low waisted jeans that fit tight over my hips and butt but flare at the bottom. There’s a swath of exposed skin between my top and the waistband of the jeans, that feels scandalous.
“How’s it going?” he calls from outside.
“Fine.”
“Let’s see.”
I walk out with one arm around my waist and another clutching the neck of the sweater in place. Reid’s eyebrow raises. “Hands down, please.”
Reluctantly I drop both and feel every inch of my body itch under his scrutiny. He reaches out and yanks the sweater back over my shoulder, shifting it into place, then he asks, “What do you think?”
“David would hate this.” He’d think it’s flashy and attention getting. Tacky.
“Well, David isn’t here,” Reid says, “and I don’t give a fuck about what he would think. What do you think?”
I catch my reflection in a mirror behind him. The outfit is different from anything I’ve ever worn before. There’s no pretense, like I’m trying to present something to the world, but more than that, for once in my life, I’m trying to fit in. “It’s warm.”
“Of course it’s warm. Do you like the color?”
“Yes.”
His eyes skim down to my hips. “And the jeans?”
“They’re tight,” I admit, running my hands down my sides.
“In a good way or a bad way?”
“A different way, I guess.” I twist and look at my reflection. “I’ve just always worn skirts and dresses. It wasn’t exactly a rule, but the alternative was frowned upon.”
“Do you want my opinion?” he asks, looking like he’s unsure if he should speak it.
“Sure.”
“They make your ass look spectacular.”
“Oh.” My body goes through a series of acrobatics. Heart skipping, stomach flipping, skin burning. “Well, thank you?”
“You’re welcome.” He looks instantly regretful. “ Never tell your brother I said that.”
I flash him a grin. “Not a chance.”
“Okay go try on the other stuff I picked out and we can get out of here.”
I end up choosing several outfits, all more weather appropriate and a bit more casual than what I brought with me from Texas. I’m sorting out what I’m going to keep and return to the rack, when I spot a dress included. It’s floor length and a dark emerald green with ruching up one side. There’s a long split down the leg, that even though it’s not that revealing, feels scandalous. I shove it out the curtain and say, “What’s this?”
From the comfort of the chaise he replies, “A dress.”
“This is neither warm or anything I’ll have a reason to wear.”
“True,” he admits, “but it’s sexy.”
“I don’t need se–” I swallow back the word, “anything like that.”
“Why not?” he sits up. “You never know. If you don’t wear it while you’re here you can take it back home for your engagement party or whatever.”
I look at the dress in my hand. It’s barely two scraps of fabric held together with a little ribbon. “I could never wear that to an engagement party,” then add quietly, “not that there’s going to be one.”
Reid stands, a line slashed through his forehead. “What does that mean?”
I take a deep breath. “I called David this morning and told him I wanted to take a break. A real one.”
His eyes flick down to the ring and I drop my hand out of view. Baby steps.
“That’s big news,” he finally says. “You handling it okay?”
“I’m fine. Better than fine, actually.” The words ring hollow. I’m not upset, it’s just weird.
“Good,” he says, tone unconvinced. “Did I… or our talk last night, did that have something to do–”
“The decision to break things off with David was mine and mine alone.” I cut him off and shove the dress at him, then gather the other items I plan on returning to the rack. I pile them all in his arms. “Take those, please, while I get ready. I know you need to get back.”
I duck back into the dressing room before he has a chance to reply, and by the time I come back out in the new sweater and jeans, he’s got his elbows on the counter, talking to the sales girl. She’s cute, with pink streaks in her pale blonde hair. “Friday night,” I hear him say, “after the game, at the Manor.”
“I’ll think about it,” she replies, picture perfect cool.
He grins and then straightens when he sees me. I quickly pay and meet him at the door.
“The only thing I didn’t find was a coat,” I tell him. “Afghan excluded.”
“No worries.” He hands his jacket back. “You can wear mine until you find something better.”
“You sure about that?” I ask, aware that the sales girl is watching us closely. “What if Axel,” or anyone else, “sees.”
He shrugs, and wraps it around my shoulders. “If your brother has a problem with me making sure his sister doesn’t freeze to death, then I’ll deal with it at the time.”
I’m not sure what it says about me that I feel more comfortable underneath the weight of Reid’s jacket than anything else I tried on today, but I’m too worn out to fight it. I took some big steps today and I’ll call that a win.
Even if I have to go against everything I believe in to accomplish it.