Chapter 34 Sadie
thirty-four
Sadie
“You had sex with him!” Maren screams in the car. I’m thankful it’s warm enough that I have the windows up and the A/C on.
Playfully, I swat at her, also thankful that the car is in park. “What is wrong with you? You can’t just scream things like that.”
She points a finger at me. “You aren’t even denying it.”
I open my mouth, then close it again.
Maren loses it.
“Oh my GOD,” she shouts, unbuckling her seatbelt even though we are very much not going anywhere. “Was it good? Don’t answer that—your face already did.” She beams, her cheeks pink with excitement.
I swat at her again. “Lower your voice!”
“No, the kids aren’t coming for an hour,” she says, glancing at her watch, vibrating in her seat. “Absolutely not. I need a full timeline. Did you kiss first? Who initiated? Was there tension? Please tell me there was tension.”
“You are out of control,” I admit, putting my head in my hands, feeling the flush of my cheeks under my fingers.
She leans closer, eyes wild. “Was it against a wall? A bed? A car? Because if it was a car, I’m never letting you hear the end of this.”
I press my lips together, trying—and failing—not to smile.
Her scream is practically deafening in this tiny space. “IT WAS A CAR.” She gasps, clutching her chest. “I KNEW IT. I felt it. Okay, okay—where were his hands? How big is his—”
“Maren!” I laugh, covering her mouth with my hand. I look around us, relieved when it’s still just my car in the parking lot. I don’t want someone to overhear us, but the way she’s acting is the way I’ve felt internally ever since that night.
Colson is unbelievable. I can’t believe he is a living, breathing, walking man. Not just someone I dreamt up.
She pulls my hand away. “There is no one here. It’s summer and we’re in a school parking lot.”
“Fine. I promise to dish on a high level of detail if you let me get through this practice first, okay?”
She nods, lifting her hands. “Yes, Coach.”
In all honesty, I’m ridiculously thankful for her.
It was her idea to reach out to the local high school, share details about our out of commission rec center from the storm, and see if they had any space they could share.
They were more than happy to help as long as we did our own clean up—they don’t have any janitorial staff until August.
But, it’s July. It’s hot. We’re further away from the lake and miss the breeze we’re used to. Plus, it may not have been all that efficient, but we did have air conditioning. It never made the courts cold, or like we didn’t need the fans, but it would pull the sting of the summer heat away.
So, between Maren and Colson, we came up with a plan. It included our industrial fans, plus some borrowed ones from our local hardware store, a cooler of popsicles, and massive water jugs with lots of ice.
Maren even offered to come and be an extra set of eyes for the few days we’ll be here.
She and I both know that she mostly wants to spy on Colson and me, but I’m not turning down the help.
Kids in a new place? The last thing I need is to lose one of them when they’re trying to get to the bathroom or something.
“One last question,” Maren asks, bringing me back to the moment. “Did he make you forget your own name?”
I hesitate.
Maren slams her palm on the dashboard. “Say less.”
Because the universe has spectacular timing, Colson pulls in next to us. I turn to Maren and give her a look, one that begs her to stay on her best behavior. She laughs and looks away, pretending not to see me.
We get out to help Colson with the coolers. He grins at me, in a way that makes me despise that we’re not alone, and pulls me in for a quick kiss. Like we’ve done it a hundred times.
Maren lets out a low whistle, but when I turn to respond, I realize it’s not about the kiss—she’s looking in the backseat of his car.
“I forget you got that NBA money,” she jokes.
Colson opens the door and pulls out two brand new rolling coolers. They have a hard exterior and match the colors of the rec center—which I’m sure isn’t a coincidence.
“It’s supposed to be really hot. Solid coolers are non-negotiable,” he says, trying to act like he didn’t pull out the equivalent of a thousand dollars.
“I thought someone had some we could borrow?” I ask.
“They dropped them off, and they were in bad shape. I’m talking about lids that wouldn’t close. There’s no way they’d actually keep anything cold.”
Colson tries to pull off one of the price tags, but I see the cost before he stuffs it in his pocket.
“These are too much. We can’t accept these,” I protest, my hand pressing on the pit in my stomach. “We can’t afford these.”
“I can. Consider it a donation to the center. You’ll be able to use these for a long time.” He taps his hand on the top of one. “Sadie, let me help you,” he insists, quieter this time.
His eyes are lighter blue than I’m used to, the height of the sun the culprit. He has this look that makes it hard to say ‘no.’
Maren jumps in. “The man has millions of dollars. Let him buy the coolers.”
She’s right. I also know the feeling residing in my chest has nothing to do with pride and everything to do with needing help.
Colson doesn’t rush me. He waits, one hand resting on the cooler like it belongs there, like he belongs here.
He continues. “Sadie, you know you’d do the same for someone else.”
He’s right and he knows it.
I let out a slow breath and peel my hand away from my stomach. “Fine,” I grumble. “But if anyone asks, I bullied you into it.”
A corner of his mouth lifts. “Devastating. My reputation may never recover.”
Maren claps her hands once. “Great. Now that the rich guy’s guilt has been accepted, can we get these filled with ice?”
That breaks whatever tension was left.
Colson reaches for my hand, weaving his fingers with mine. When he squeezes, something in my chest dares to explode. It’s sweet, unexpected—sort of like him in general.
He holds my hand like he’s not hiding it. Not from Maren. Not from me. And that might be my favorite part.