Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
NATHAN
My morning is filled with drills and while I can’t exactly impress Coach by doing the best circle cross-overs, I still give it my all.
I’m a sweaty, overheated mess by the time we break for lunch, and I drag myself to the locker room to switch out of my damp, hockey gear.
My hair clings to my forehead. I push it back with one hand as I pull out my phone to text Riley. I want to see her today, so I eagerly type:
Nat: You, me and Bob’s Burgers? You in?
Whoa. Is it just me or does that sound corny? I erase the text.
Nat: Are you free? Want to grab burgers with me?
I erase that too.
Nat: Have you had lunch?
I consider the text and then figure it’s a nice, safe, brotherly thing to ask, so I send it.
“Yo, Campbell!” Someone calls my name.
I look up.
“We heading to the Tuna. You in?”
“You guys go ahead.” I wave them on and focus on my phone again.
Riley must be busy because the message says ‘delivered’ but she hasn’t replied.
Maybe she’s in the middle of fixing a car or filing paperwork. Should I drive over there and see what’s going on? Or would that be too much?
How do I handle this ‘brother’ thing?
Finally, my phone chirps.
Riley: I haven’t eaten yet.
A smile breaks free and I lean forward, letting my thumbs fly over the keyboard on screen.
Nat: How about Bob’s Burgers? Let’s celebrate you officially becoming a car woman.
Riley: I’m an ‘auto mechanic’.
Nat: Auto mechanic car woman.
Riley: *sends an eye rolling emoji*
I laugh and start typing, but she sends a message first.
Riley: I can’t today. I have plans.
My expression falls flat and I stare at that statement as an uneasy sensation floats in my stomach.
I remember Cordelia offering to set Riley up on a date yesterday.
Is it possible the ladies already made their arrangements?
Is Riley getting ready to eat lunch with some random guy who doesn’t deserve her?
And what? You think you deserve her?
I ignore that thought and barge to my feet.
Then I sit back down in indecision.
What am I going to do? Storm Riley’s auto shop and forbid her from going on a date?
I scrub a frustrated hand down my face. In the distance, voices get louder until finally, Renthrow, Kinsey and McLanely appear.
“Campbell,” McLanely blinks in shock. “You’re still here? I thought everyone had left for lunch.”
“Yeah, I’m… probably going to practice some more.”
Shades of disapproval appear on all three of their faces.
“The harder you push your body, the more nutrition you need,” Renthrow says, sounding like the dad that he is. “I heard you were practicing early this morning too.”
“Don’t over-do it,” Kinsey says, nodding to my leg.
McLanely grunts in agreement.
Overdoing it is not the issue right now. Riley might be on a date and it’s driving me bonkers.
I stare at Renthrow. There’s a huge chance that he knows whether Cordelia went through with her threat—I mean, promise—of arranging a boyfriend for Riley. I launch toward him and the man staggers back, eyeing me warily as if he can sense the anxiety rolling around in my stomach.
“Renthrow, when was the last time you spoke to Cordelia?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Is she busy today?”
Renthrow’s eyes narrow in suspicion.
“She’s not doing anything special? Like playing matchmaker over lunch or anything like that?” I try to laugh casually, but it fails to mask the rising panic inside.
“What is he talking about?” McLanely asks, opening his locker and grabbing his bag.
Kinsey shakes his head as if he doesn’t have the time or the patience for my nonsense.
I ignore the both of them and pay careful attention to the slightest pull of Renthrow’s facial muscles. His lips are twitching and he’s watching me the same way Cordelia did when she made that random and unsolicited offer at the ice cream shop.
“I’ll take that as a no,” I say, a question in my tone.
“As far as I know, Cordelia hasn’t done any matchmaking.”
“Good.” I flop into a nearby bench as the tension in my chest eases. “Keep her busy, okay? Don’t let her remember anything about that.”
“I thought you and Riley were basically siblings?” Renthrow says.
“Whose sibling?” McLanely asks, finishing up with a text.
“Campbell’s,” Renthrow says. “His sister’s in Lucky Falls.”
McLanely makes a sound of disbelief. “You must be close. I couldn’t convince my sister to move to Lucky Falls if I breadcrumbed her with wine.”
“She’s not my sister by blood.”
“Uh-huh,” McLanely says distractedly. “Where does she work? Is she settling in okay?”
“She’s the manager at Stewart’s old garage,” Renthrow says.
Kinsey’s head whips up. “You’re Riley’s brother?”
“Not. By. Blood,” I insist. Which is the truth, but the fact that I have to keep saying it makes me feel like I’m making excuses or covering up a big secret.
“I didn’t know you were related to Riley,” Kinsey says, integrating into the conversation. His eyes peruse my face. “Hey, is she okay?”
“Why wouldn’t she be okay?” Renthrow asks, retrieving his Hello Kitty duffel bag from his locker.
“Rebel said they had a rude customer over there. Guy made a big stink about the estimate the shop gave him. She was worried that the new manager would get upset and quit.”
“Riley’s not a quitter,” I say firmly, thinking of the text she sent early this morning. “She cares about being a good mechanic and she wants to do well. There’s no way a setback like that can stop her. She’s too amazing for that.”
“Huh.” McLanely looks me up and down.
Kinsey squints at me like he’s studying a puzzle in an escape room. “Did you say you two weren’t related by blood?”
I suddenly find the rust on the edge of the locker to my right very interesting.
“That’s what he said. Multiple times,” Renthrow confirms, slamming his locker door shut.
“I see,” Kinsey muses with a smirk.
I don’t want to know what he sees. The guy could walk around blindfolded as far as I’m concerned.
“Have you two ever dated?” McLanely asks point-blank.
“No. No way, man.” Not that I haven’t thought about it. “It’s not possible.”
“Why not?” Renthrow asks.
“I’m best friends with her brother.”
“So?” McLanely shrugs. “Like you keep saying, she’s not your actual sister.”
“And you’d be dating her, not her brother. I don’t see an issue either,” Kinsey observes.
See? A voice whispers. There’s nothing wrong with liking Riley.
I shake my head because if I follow this train of thought, I might end up doing something very stupid—like making a move on my best friend’s little sister.
Again.
Intentionally, this time.
“She’s… she’s too young for me,” I argue.
“How much younger?” Kinsey asks, stroking his chin.
“Six years.”
“That’s not too bad,” Renthrow grumbles.
“Yeah, and you’re both adults,” Kinsey points out. “Six years isn’t a crazy gap.”
“A crazy gap would be, like, Max and May—April’s little sister.” McLanely shudders. “I’d be uncomfortable with that. But six years… nah. That’s fine.”
This is not the sort of encouragement I need when I’m trying to navigate my interest in Riley—that’s growing rather than going away—and my role as her stand-in older brother.
Thankfully, my phone rings, saving me from the conversation.
“Gotta take this. See you guys for afternoon training,” I say, grabbing my duffel and making a beeline for the door.
I’m in such a hurry that I pick up the call without checking the number. “Hey, this is Campbell.”
“Hi, Nat. It’s Layla.”
I scream to a stop in the parking lot outside the arena. The sun beats my temple and I feel an instant headache brewing.
“Layla.” My voice is frigid.
Unfortunately, Layla has enough high-pitched energy for the both of us. “Oh my gaaash,” she drawls. “How are you, Nat? I’ve been thinking about you non-stop lately. I was thinking ‘I hope Nat’s doing well’.”
“I’m doing fine.”
“Great, great.” She doesn’t sound interested in the least. “Hey, Nat, guess where I am right now.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Where are you right now?”
Because of Renea’s heads-up, I already know what she’s going to say.
“I’m in Lucky Falls!” The statement is followed by about two minutes of giggling. “I love this town. It’s so cute and old-fashioned.”
I tilt my head back and sigh heavily. Please just get to the point. “Well… that’s nice. Hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Oh, Nat before you go. I was hoping we could meet up and you could show me around. Maybe introduce me to some of your new hockey friends?”
“I can’t, Layla. I’m busy.”
“That’s fine. That’s fine.” She backtracks. “We can still meet up some time. Grab some coffee. Catch up. It’ll be nice.”
About as nice as poking my eyes out with my skates. “I don’t think I’ll have the time.”
“Well, let’s play it by ear.”
I grunt, refusing to agree to anything.
The dial tone rings in my ear.
Well then.
My entire body starts to ache and I feel like I’ve aged two years in a day.
I don’t have any hard feelings about my breakup with Layla, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten everything that went down. My ex smiled in my face when I was healthy and coldly dumped me when I stopped being of purpose.
That kind of duplicity is something I don’t want anywhere near my teammates, my friends, or my… Riley.