Madden (Boston Bay Vikings #17)

2. Tessa

2

TESSA

I love watching the snow fall in big, delicate flakes. It's so pretty. At least from where I watch it, curled up under a thick blanket in my reading nook. Dad built this into a corner of my bedroom when he transformed the room from a little girl's palace to a teenager's obsession with books. The words between the pages are my escape from life. They always have been. Whenever my mind needs a distraction, I find one of my favorite books and start on the first page. It's been more active than usual this past month. If I'm honest with myself, it's been on the fritz for a few months.

Especially today after the message I got from Madden last night. I couldn't think why he would send such a message. His messages kept me going. Kept me strong when I wanted to curl up and cry. I thought our relationship had changed recently, even for the better. Then 'I'm done' popped up on my phone.

And there is Ralph hovering around me. I'm not even sure if he really likes me. More my parents' money if I have to guess. He's been persistent and I've given in once or twice and gone out to dinner with the man.

I was furious when I found out that my mother had invited him home with me. It was the last thing I wanted. Others told me how handsome he is. How lucky I am to have his interest directed my way. Ever since I was shot by a stray bullet, my eyes have been open to those around me. I've begun to ask why. Why is Ralph with me when he spends most of his time on the phone? I can't remember ever seeing him without the phone in his hands. I've also noticed that he's critical of what I wear. I consider myself well dressed. According to Ralph, I need help in that department.

Part of me wonders if finding fault with Ralph has something to do with my longing for Madden. He had given me his sole attention when I was shot. He hadn't left my side from the moment I went down until my parents arrived at the hospital. The man plays for the Boston Bay Vikings minor league team and has a fan club of Puck Bunnies.

I rub my forehead, wishing away a headache that is forming. Instead of gathering wool, I should be getting ready for dinner with my family and Ralph. It's not something I want to do. In fact, going out to eat is something I haven't done since I was shot. The scar is barely noticeable now, but it's there. I feel like everyone stares at it when I walk into a room. I know my parents look at it from time to time. This escape from the city to my hometown is me running away from my problems. I enjoy being here. Some days I wonder why I bothered to leave.

"Tessa," Mom knocks on my bedroom door, "are you ready?"

I look at myself in leggings and a Boston Bay Vikings jersey, number fourteen, and decide I'm ready. "I'm dressed." I'm certainly not dressed for dinner.

Coming out of my room, Mom gives me a quick glance, her eyes widening when she sees me in the same clothes I've been wearing all day. I smile and walk past her down the stairs, running my fingers through my red hair. I love this style and this color. My friend Diana convinced me it would look perfect on me, and it does. I slip my feet into my fur-lined boots and sigh as pure comfort wraps around my feet, ankles, and calves. Just as I tuck my arms into my long, red, padded jacket, the chimes of the doorbell rattle around my head.

"That'll be Ralph." Mom runs to the door while I roll my eyes behind her back. Dad catches me, barely hiding a grin behind his hand. Mom might like Ralph, but she doesn’t give out keys to the house to guests.

As Ralph enters the foyer, I narrow my eyes as his gaze sweeps around the elegant home before landing on me. His eyes fill with something I don't want to think about as a smile spreads across his mouth. "Tessa, how are you today?" He's spent the day with friends, for which I'm grateful. His arms wrap around me, and as his mouth comes close to my ear, he whispers, "You can't go out in public dressed like that."

Dad clears his throat as I force a smile. "It's been a long day. I want to be comfortable while I eat." With that, I zip up my winter jacket and grin. "I'm ready to go." I walk out the door, ignoring my mother’s disapproving look.